One day long ago, not too far away, on a balmy afternoon Mr. Bob Weir walked into my studio. I recognized him immediately…
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The strange subterranean world around us has opened to release the Cicada after 17 years and our yard is abuzz…
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The crowd was roaring last night at Ground Zero, just three blocks from our apartment. The news was good and a long time coming. I will never forget that day, nor this one…
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I first met George Olson during a sniper attack in San Francisco in the late 70’s. A deranged gunman, reportedly with an M16, was firing from a high floor of an office building…
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This is #5 in a continuing series From “Blur: A Memoir,” an ongoing and random series of stories, dreams, and memories from my life as a photographer…
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#4 in a series from “Blur: A Memoir,” an ongoing and random series of stories, dreams, and memories from my life as a photographer….
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#3 in a series from “Blur: A Memoir,” an ongoing and random series of stories, dreams, and memories from my life as a photographer.
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From “Blur: A Memoir,” an ongoing and random series of stories, dreams, and memories from my life as a photographer. This is #2 in a continuing series from “Tesåo,” about my wife Tereza and our relationship…
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When Tereza arrived in New York City from Brazil in 1976, her older sister Magda got her a job in a sweatshop on 23rd Street sewing leather bags for Carlos Falchi…
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I’ve been driving up and down 280 in Silicon Valley the past few weeks working hard to launch my new book and documentary film project from my work here in the 80’s and 90’s…
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