Dad died on Saturday 9th February 2008. Until then he had spent over two years battling with the physical, psychological and familial effects of cancer.

Below I have written a record of dad's life with cancer as I remember it. It isn't perfect and it is a very personal record. I am sure that others have their stories to tell too. If you knew dad it would be great for you to add to his story and sign up for free and make a comment.

He was diagnosed as having prostate cancer whilst in hospital undergoing tests. He was told the bad news behind a curtain on a busy hospital ward on the day of his 41st wedding anniversary 2005. Dad shed a tear, and then started to get on with the business of living with cancer.

Further tests revealed that the cancer had spread to a lymph node and that dads treatment pathway was limited to controlling the spread of the cancer over time.

Dad quickly learned to cope with his cancer and he made himself a promise that he would finish off his final months at work before retirement. This thought kept dad focused and motivated during his time off for recuperation. Our first visit out with dad was at the Christmas Markets in Manchester. He was still a little fragile, but with the help of his treatment he became stronger. On Christmas Eve we made a traditional visit to Hebden Bridge and then on Christmas Day, for the first time ever, we had dinner at a restaurant with no extravagance spared.

I was always conscious of dads illness and of his limited time left with us, so I made a vow to spend as much time as possible with him. Thus, on several occasions, I asked Dad to become my 'photographers assistant'. In February 2006 I had a commission to photograph Elizabeth Gaskell's house. Dad and I spent a memorable day cooing over the late Georgian interior (although dad was more interested in the plumbing than the architecture). I took a shaky shot of him setting up the lighting in one of the reception rooms. Dad proved to be an awful assistant. After ten minutes of help he would often get caught up with anybody and everybody. He always found something in common with whoever he met. Invariably, I always completed the commission without my assistant, but dad walked away content and having made many friends.

During his first time in hospital we made a promise that we would all go out to Paris together and we managed to fly out there in March of 2006 with Mum, my wife, brother and his wife. He particularly wanted to visit the Pantheon and an English pub called 'TheBombadier ', where upon a previous visit Dad had declared the day as 'the best day of his life'. Dad was prone to having many days which were prosaically declared as the best day of his life. Such days also included my wedding in Venice, my brothers wedding, Mauritania, Algeria and Grinzing in Vienna. He had so many happy days.

Back in the UK life got back to as normal as possible. I remember a particular visit by Mum and Dad to our home where we went out for a walk around the local park. Here I took a few snaps of dad. He seemed happy yet contemplative. He never, ever took a single day for granted and he seemed to absorb each second of each day and chew it over in his mind.

Dad was only 63 when he was diagnosed. Just over one year off his retirement from work. After his recuperation it was typical of dad to want to get back to work and finish his time there. Here he spent several happy months working as a plumber at the local infirmary.

During his time at the infirmary, my wife, who also worked there, remembers hearing an explosion whilst walking down a corridor. Amidst the deafening tone of the fire alarms, dad emerged pink faced (and splattered) from behind a bathroom door, after mixing a lethal concoction of drain cleaner to unblock a particularly awkward urinal.

In the August of 2006 my family and I rented a cottage within the grounds of Rievaulx Abbey in Yorkshire and mum and dad came along for a couple of days. We spent a wonderful evening (with the abbey ruins to ourselves) picnicking in the chancel and dancing to jazz music. Once again, dad had a contemplative moment on his own and I caught him on camera leaning against the ancient columns of Rievaulx where thousands had passed centuries before. He wasn't sad - he just wasn't willing to let a special occasion such as this slip between his fingers.

Time seemed to fly by, and soon it was a year since dads original diagnosis. It was also time for dad to retire. Mum and Emily (his grand daughter) threw a surprise party for him at the house. Dad was in his element surrounded by family and friends.

Soon, it was time for another celebration - my brother Paul's wedding to Kath. Just before the wedding Paul had organised for Dad to go to the local health club and have some pampering - he never forgot that, and always talked about it afterwards. It was a day where we all forgot our problems and focused on celebrating Paul and Kath's marriage. Dad, as ever became part of the entertainment during the evening celebrations, donning the best man's kilt and subsequently losing it on the dance floor.

Christmas came around once again and we made our traditional trip up to Hebden Bridge and I made a couple of sketches of our journey. This was a particularly difficult time for Dad because he was also dealing with the news that his sister in law, Joan, had been diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour. There were times when Dad wasn't quite himself and I remember him coming up to the house and talking things through. Joan died in January in the new year.

In February, I had another commission to photograph some dry stone walling skillfully executed by the late Raven Frankland. Dad came along to Cumbria and met his wife Dr Frankland (an eminent botanist) on her farmstead. The Frankland's had single handedly saved Pendragon Castle from destruction by meticulous archaeology - slowly revealing it's secrets over a significant number of years. Dad was amazed by the C17th farm and interior and also struck by Dr Franklands stories about her late husband and his ancestors. Later we went out with her farmhand who had gained an MBE for services to farming and agriculture, and I remember thinking that Dad should get an MBE for the way that he had coped with his illness. I managed to get a photo of dad taking a photo next to the castle. Dad also helped me on numerous occasions throughout the next months, photographing the interiors of churches and the like. I was always secretly pained by his condition and I think that he realised this. It was during these times that we seemed to form a silent bond of mutual support.

In April my wife and I managed to get hold of an allotment and throughout the next few months dad chipped in every now and again to help us get things into shape. It started out as a bare patch of earth. We managed to get hold of an old greenhouse from my cousin and dad helped us put it together and install the glass. Whilst installing a particularly awkward piece of glass he cut himself and the dried spots of blood remain on the glass there to this day - a secular shrine surrounded by tomatoes, chillies, cucumbers and the faint scent of lavender.

We also stayed over at Beverley in April during the Grand National. Dad and I sneaked out to the Green Dragon on one occasion and had a couple of pints. He also loved an afternoon spent in the Monks after a trip around the Minster. During this time Dad bought a silver cross at the Saturday Market which I wear with pride today. I remember getting up early on the Sunday before leaving and sketching the Bar.

In May I was involved with organising a Heritage Skills event at Fountains Abbey for our skilled Lead Workers, and Dad was asked to come along and provide some tuition for the local visiting school kids. The weather was great and dad thoroughly enjoyed himself chatting to the hundreds of people who were interested in the arts of building conservation. It's comforting to think that dad may have inspired others in their chosen careers and in this way his memory lives on.

During the skills weekend we talked about our forthcoming planned trip to Verona. Dad had been before and he kept telling me of the wonderful architecture. Dreams became reality when we arrived in the home of Romeo and Juliet in early June. He asked me if I had anything interesting in mind for photographing; and he looked bemused when I said the door knockers of Verona. I also particularly remember one balmy night after dinner where we sat in Piazza Bra and whilst listening to the convivial chat of mum, dad and Charlie, I sketched the scene in front of me.

It was shortly after this time that dad had received the news that his cancer had spread to his hips. It was proposed that dad start a heavy programme of Chemotherapy combined with a mind blowing concoction of drugs - but he needed to wait for a little until certain drugs settled. Dad wasn't phased by the latest diagnosis, in fact he seemed to go into overdrive and at the end of July he helped my brother build a conservatory from scratch.

Throughout the summer I had been preparing for a photographic exhibition of Edgar Wood buildings to be shown at the Long Street Methodist Church. The Church is a wonderful grade II* listed building by Wood which is under threat. The exhibition was due in September, and in late August I remember feeling particularly stressed over some shots that I needed to take. Dad, kindly reminded me of his photographic assistancy skills and I (somewhat reluctantly) agreed to let him come out and help me. I took a photo of Dad just before setting off and he looked in the pique of health; in fact, he had just undergone his first bout of Chemotherapy. This didn't stop Dad having a pint of beer with me during our trip out - talking about the fortunes of our beloved Man City. After a slow start I managed to get two defining shots which were put into the exhibition - firstly: F W Jacksons gravestone and secondly Elm Street School. The gravestone is in the crematorium where Dad will be cremated, and whilst there I will remember the good time we had setting up the shot in between funerals.

The exhibition took place in September at the Church. It was dedicated to Mum and Dad. I was so proud to see him there, even though he wasn't well after another bout of Chemotherapy. Later, Dad came along to Leeds to return some exhibition boards to a historic plastering contractor, and it was at this time that I noticed that dad was looking pale and tired.

Dad's health seemed to take a turn for the worst during October, and he spent an anxious time on an isolation ward in hospital after being diagnosed with Neutropenia - which left him breathless for the remaining months of his life. Nevertheless, he still managed to make friends with the staff and patients on the ward. His spirit still remained unbroken after he was taken to hospital again with suspected DVT, but it turned out to be a condition caused by his cancer.

In spite of being told that the Chemotherapy he was undergoing wasn't working (and subsequently stopped) - Dad still continued to try and live as fulfilling a life as possible. I managed to take him out to Neston, Stockport and Manchester. As late as November last year we managed to go out on a trip to a local salvage yard in Yorkshire with his brother in law Tony and nephew Bob. We took a few photographs of him with some statues of the Blues Brothers and these were to be some of the last photo's taken of Dad.

The months of December and January took on a sombre tone.

Dad became increasingly ill and spent most of Christmas and the new year in hospital. I remember a particularly stark day spent at Christie's where he was told that his cancer may have spread further. A later scan revealed that his cancer had spread to his liver and this was a difficult fact to take for Dad. But, he managed to keep going, this time I think more for others than himself.

Just a week before he died he managed to get out to the local for a spot of lunch. I had downloaded a couple of video's of Hulme (where he was born) and Mauritania and Algeria where he worked and spent some of the most memorable years of his life. We watched them on my ipod in the pub. We later went back to the house and he got out his photographs of Algeria and for a short time we forgot about the cancer as we were engrossed in tales of billet life which would put 'Auf Wiedersehen' Pet to shame.

Just before Dad went into hospital I managed to break the patio door and I remember dad breathless and pale as alabaster, crouching down on the floor trying to fix it. He worked and endeavoured right up until the end.

During an earlier trip out to Manchester to pick up some photographic prints we talked about his illness and his thoughts on dying. He told me that he wasn't afraid of dying and that he had had the most amazing time since his diagnosis. He also noted how privileged he was to have had a wonderful life, and a caring wife in Mum. Over the previous year, Dad had made a secret and concerted effort to prepare Mum and the house for his leaving. People who live nearby may have seen Dad tinkering about the house, fixing the guttering, building a new fence and installing a downstairs loo. He traded the old car in for a new one, which was just the right size for mum. He told me that he had marked the quality of his life on a cancer assessment form as 85% during his Chemotherapy. The fact is that dad had managed to defeat his illness in his mind, and value the days he had left. This is not to say that he wasn't always happy, and I must pay a tribute to the never ending work, devotion and care that my mum has given Dad. One of his fondest activities was simply sitting in the back conservatory watching mum in the garden. The garden became dad's refuge and mental stimulant and must have added months to his life. I have fond memories of Dad sitting with his binoculars and a book in his hand recording which birds had visited the garden that day.

Dad died in a hospice nearby. He died on my wedding anniversary (he wished us a 'happy anniversary') - a fact of which I am proud and not sad.

Dad's funeral service will be at Long Street Methodist Church - a fitting place.

Dad, to me, you were a father, mentor, soul-mate and best friend.

I tell people, when asked, that I am fine and put on a smiling face - but I am not, and as I write this, I weep for your loss and what it has done to me inside.

feel free to share what you do with this here:

Mad helenina Stock

This is my new Halo Reach/Multiplayer Moc. It doesn't realy resemble a specific map, just some of the different abilities you can use on the video game: Halo Reach, such as running, jet pack, energy shield. Also, it can be opened to get a better (clear) view at it (Moc "not opened"right now). Click on the link to watch it opened: www.flickr.com/photos/53675253@N07/5196350761/

youtube channel: www.youtube.com/user/TheLegoReloaded

Brickforge (guns): www.brickforge.com/store/

TheLegoReloaded

Taken at Swingers restaurant, enjoying the night life. Had some good chili cheese fries, the service was terrible. I've heard that they are infamously known for their rude service, which is very strange. This was the last shot of the 24 exposure roll, pushed to 400.

1/30 f/1.8

Nikon N2020 - E Class 50mm - 200 Kodak Gold

Santa Monica, CA

dannymansmith.bigcartel.com/product/remembering-dreams-book

The photo in March of our obscure and unusual left hand drive XMQ6900, well it is outside now parked up in the corner...here is the cab area.

Dodge Ram 250 and BMW 535 overlooking Budd Inlet from Tugboat Annie's

Digital Painting

A beautiful specimen of 'Remember Me' photographed at Benalla Rose Garden in early November.

I'll be away for a few days... please don't forget me!! :-)

'See' you next week.

"The process of becoming is a complicated one. Doubt lingers around every bend with the promise of failure. Who we become as we become is not as important as the process--because it is through this toil, this tussle with fate, that we truly begin to understand the intricacies behind our birth." ~Christopher David

These images are from my very first shoot with a model. Courtney has certainly grown, as has his connection with more established photographers. As I've watched him grow I've debated my own, unsure if I'd successfully kept pace. In speaking with him today he commented on my growth and insisted my work had taken on a more professional appearance. Out of curiosity I decided to revisit our first shoot, and what I found surprised me. While indeed the general range within my portfolio had improved, the passion for capturing honest, pure, unfiltered moments was there, even then, as much as it is now. The polish, or professional appearance, is quite a compliment--but beyond that, the ability to capture authenticity in any image is all I ever want, or hope to accomplish. So as I continue to become, I see how important it is to revisit those moments when doubt weighed heavy but commitment to growth continually pushed you through.

Thanks Courtney, for giving me my start, and reminding me of the journey.

{Taken: Sunday, November 21, 2010 | 2:47 PM}

Wien the flowers were all in bloom

Sunbeam finds its way thru the branches of one of the giant Magnolia trees in Friendship Cemetery, Columbus MS.

2019

He looks so vulnerable:)

Yes, it's the ex-Tomahawk Railroad snowplow (which my dad snapped in 2002 on the NBN).

Photo probably by Dennis Garner.

Carving from 1973. The story here.

Erica has some great scans of slides that her uncle Don Antoine (one of the carvers) took during the carving.

Erica found an article her dad wrote about the carving and submitted to Rolling Stone in 1975 (they never published it).

You, do you remember me?

Like I remember you

Do you spend your life

Going back in your mind to that time?

Because I .. I walked the streets alone

I hate being on my own

And everyone can see that I really fell

And I’m going through hell

Thinking about you were somebody else

Somebody wants you

Somebody needs you

Somebody dreams about you every single night

Somebody can’t breath without you, it’s lonely

Somebody hopes someday you will see

That somebody’s me

All by me

model : my cousin

(no edit )

All rights reserved

=)

1k-5002cr-c-nov

My mind wanders back to the torpor of the tropics. . .and to Ling Wah. If the amber scent of her golden skin wasn't enough, the sandalwood perfume of her midnight hair would pull me to her helplessly. But it was her eyes, and the clear longing for my presence that captivated me most of all. I cherished that slight but definite smile that echoes upside down the curves of her eyes and delicate brows.

- - I've wanted to write overdone stuff like that for awhile now. . .yes, completely fiction.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNNYci5E0gI

Merci Michiel, je ne savais pas pour le titre, tu m'as aidé...

la sim - The Rose Theatre

Remembering DJ, my late wife who passed 3 weeks ago. She loved yellow roses.

Thank you all so very much for your visits, comments, and faves. I appreciate each and every one of you! Gracias. Merci. Danke. Obrigado. Grazie. Go raibh maith agat. Tapadh leat. Gratias tibi.

All photos are ©Tom Harrington and may not be used in any way without my permission. Thank you.

Foto di Bellegotti Francesco ©

500px : 500px.com/BellegottiFrancesco

Tumblr : francesco92bellegotti.tumblr.com/

Sito : www.francescobellegotti.it/

Facebook : www.facebook.com/FrancescoBellegottiPhoto

Blogspot : francescobellegottiphotography92.blogspot.it/

Flickr : www.flickr.com/photos/belleclick/

Another N&W shot from Des Moines in 1975. This time, GP7 #2441 heads light eastward (away from the shot) with a crew member getting a bit of fresh air riding outside the cab.

Nektar / Remember the Future

Side one: ( all songs written by Nektar)

- "Remember the Future (Part I)" - 16:40

a) "Images of the Past"

b) "Wheel of Time"

c) "Remember the Future"

d) "Confusion"

Side two: ( all songs written by Nektar)

- "Remember the Future (Part II)" - 19:00

a) "Returning Light"

b) "Questions and Answers"

c) "Tomorrow Never Comes"

d) "Path of Light"

e) "Recognition"

f) "Let It Grow"

Allan "Taff" Freeman – keyboards, backing vocals, production

Roye Albrighton – guitars, lead vocals, production

Derek "Mo" Moore – bass guitar, backing vocals, production

Ron Howden – drums, percussion, backing vocals, production

Mick Brockett – lights, production

Peter Hauke - production

Barry Hammond - engineer

Studio: Chipping Norton Studio, Oxfordshire, England (August 1973)

gatefold: photo by Dieter Weis (lightshow by Mick Brockett)

Label: Bacillus (Bellaphon) 1973

ex Vinyl-Collection MTP

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remember_the_Future

I am a bit late with my post, but I did want to take the time to remember all of those who sacrificed everything so that we can be free from oppression. Let’s hope that we respect their sacrifice and preserve those freedoms for everyone. As we celebrate and take the day off, let us pause and spare a thought for those brave men and women. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers as you enjoy your Memorial Day.

Photos were taken at the Arizona Memorial in Hawaii. We respect those who died here, but we include everyone from all the Armed Services and honor their sacrifice.

Have a safe and Happy Memorial Day.

DSC07934uls

The Field of Crosses Memorial in Calgary Alberta

Didn't know we had Forget-me-nots over here. A pleasant surprise!

Today is day 339 of Project 365

I have started posting the sneakera i qas going to sell on ebay if your interested check em out.

m.ebay.com/itm/271518846985?nav=SELLING_ACTIVE

They sail away from the harbour of Horta on the Paula da Gama from Graciosa (another Island from the Azores Archipelago) to unknown destination.

SpongeBob SquarePants

I created this collage one year ago to the day in memory of all those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001. I will continue to post it on this date, for years to come.. We will always remember!

I do not consider myself naïve and I did not just ride into town and fall off a turnip truck.

I have spent almost seven-score years on this earth and have traveled extensively. I have lived in Europe and spent time in the Middle East, valuing and appreciating their different cultures and the diversity.

That said, here are my thoughts on this day of remembrance:

Sure, there are lots of things wrong with the United States of America. There are a lot of things that we need to fix. Right now our elected politicians can't even come together for the good of the country much less the good of the world.

It makes us sad but at the same time there remains hope, because there are a lot of things “RIGHT” about this country. On this day we all need to reflect on and be thankful for them. We have personal freedoms and a standard of living that are only dreamed of in other parts of the world.

Unfortunately our country, like the rest of the world today lives in a defensive crouch, waiting for the next heinous act of terrorism to happen. There are children in parts of the world today that are being taught intolerance and hate by their elders, parents and religious leaders. They are being taught to mistrust their neighbor and those that are different.

Is this the kind of world we want to leave to our children, and our children’s children?

Instead of hate, teach the next generation, and future generations the value of working together toward World Peace and we might just be able to break the chain of violence and terror that plagues us today!

Hate begets hate and violence begets violence. I suspect that the first thing humans did, when they came out of caves, was to start throwing rocks at their neighbors. Fear and aggression make terrible bedfellows but we continue to learn little from the lessons of the past.

There was no rational or acceptable excuse for what happened on 9/11/2001 – NONE!

The lives of innocent men women and children were taken that day by a few radical extremists who thought their cause could really justify what they did and make a difference to the world.

Well they were right in one sense, it did! It united us in a common purpose, but at the same time it has brought undue hardship and suffering to the very people terrorists and extremists claim to represent. It is always the innocent that suffer most!

We all live in the same world! Terrorist acts are like bombing or setting fire to your own home because we did not like someone in the next room, what they believed in, or what they say. It is lunacy to think that killing and maiming innocent people, and orphaning their children, makes any cause just!

People of the world must condemn terrorism in all its hideous forms, whether it be in the United States, Britain, Ireland, Pakistan, Somalia or anywhere else.

The only way this type of violence will ever end is for the many, all over the world, to stand up to the few and say; “ENOUGH! You are a scourge on humankind and we will not support you, give you shelter or tolerate you any longer!”

***

lyrics to the song "The Kingdom Of Heaven"

- by Melissa Etheridge.

A suffering soul on the way to the Kingdom of Heaven

Held up a sign that says "God hates America"

A child has been lost

A mother is shocked and is grieving

And turning away, turning away

He said there is a love that is so hideous and destructive

We must drive it from Earth to save all of our children

He must know it well

In the night it's the hell that he speaks of

It keeps him awake, keeps him awake

My God is love

My God is peace

My God loves you

My God loves me

A suffering soul on the way to the Kingdom of Heaven

Prayed in the dark, "Death to the infidel"

He strapped all his desperate pain and his faith to his body

And blew them away, blew them away

A suffering soul on the way to the Kingdom of Heaven

Shouts on the news, "They are the godless ones"

The anger inside and the fear that it hides

never leave her

When the cameras are gone, when the cameras move on

Oh, people, c'mon? tell me where is your Kingdom of Heaven?

Where is your faith?

Where do you put your fear?

Do you have a price for truth and a price for believing?

And heaven is here, heaven is here

My God is love

My God is peace

My God is you

And my God is me.

- Rick

I took this back in November on a trip to Edinburgh and forgot about it until now. The number of crosses in the ground really brought home to me the number of people effected by War. I 'planted' a cross and it was a very moving experience placing it in the ground.

Rolling Stones, Hyde Park, London, 25/06/2022

Thank you Charlie

and passing on traditions

selfportrait

....when I collected Pullip ;)

Princi (Principessa, 2004) was my first one and now she's the only Pullip at home; she's old and her face has yellowed, but she has all my love, she made me enter the world of Asian dolls that led me to BJDs !

More here

Se non visualizzate il link potete contattarmi in privato ^_^

Now that the Provence romane (“Romanesque Provence”) trip photographs have all been uploaded, and before we embark upon the Languedoc roman one with yet more Mediæval wonders to behold, let us take a short break.

In late October 2022, we went to the Paris area to visit family, and over the course of a long weekend, we managed to go into Paris to view an exhibit devoted to The Eighties, visit the château of Fontainebleau, and drive around the lovely river towns of Saint-Mammès and Moret-sur-Loing, at the confluence of the Loing and the Seine rivers. Here are a few photos from that trip which I hope will interest you.

The exhibit about The Eighties that the Musée des Arts Décoratifs put together displayed iconic items from that period of the 20th century during which many of us baby boomers lived their 20s and 30s.

Although I couldn’t honestly say that I “recognized” many of them, it was fun to look at those artefacts, items of clothing or furniture. More than truly familiar friends, they symbolized an age of hope, prosperity, unbridled creativity, without AIDS and COVID, and without such modern-day stupidities such as wokism or political correctness. Those were the days...! :o)