Archive | June, 2015

In Memorium, Hilary Thomas Masters (February 3, 1928-June 14, 2015)

It goes something like this…

Let me tell you a story of a man who went down to the sea in ships, of an imaginary knight who took to the sky, of the struggles and joys of a man possessed by love and all things worth living for…

I knew my father.  I knew him as only his son and friend can.  As father and son we attempted to fly, to join up.  But it was as comrades and friends that we finally earned our wings.  As an only child in what would today be called a “dysfunctional family” he came to us with whatever he had learned from his grandfather, an old 19th century cavalry soldier: deep morality, sense of duty and a set of standards to which perhaps even he could never rise.  Hard work was forever its own reward.  This was sometimes bitter and angry when mixed with his love for us, yet that never stopped us from loving each other, as only great and deep friendships can attest.  He was, after all, my father.

He was a sailor, a skier, a swimmer, a writer, a newspaper man, an historian, a photographer.  He learned how to build with wood, cement, paper, plastic, paint.  He drove his Morgan Plus-4 with joy and calm excitement.  His love of history and adventure drew him to the stories of the great aces of the First World War, an age of modern chivalry when derring-do flew hand-in-hand with honor and comradery.  He became Dilly O’Dally, the Irish ace of the skies over the Western Front in 1917.  He was, after all, my father and I knew him for 50 years.

Writing was his real work, although he taught for many years to pay the bills.  “One must always work,” he would say to me.   This ethos kept him laboring, pushing, grinding away at his desk every day, word by word, sentence by sentence.  I do this now, but in a different medium, as do my sisters.  He was, after all, my father and I knew him for 50 years as he taught me of these things.

When I saw him just a month or so ago, he said to me, “Tell your mother that I love her…”  Despite a painful and long separation and divorce, he asked about my mother often.  Maybe some regret plagued him, a guilt that only he could really ever know.  Or perhaps not.  I think it was just love bubbling up from below, or a memory of love, a memory of green trees in the Hudson Valley or a beach on Cape Cod, of three children and a home, a family unlike the family he had known as a child.  He was, after all, our father for well over 50 years and we loved him in the only way we had ever been taught.

Like Greek drama, there is no surprise finish.  At the end of the story the great ace of the skies, the sailor, the man who loved life ends the struggle and, running low on fuel and mortally wounded by the betrayals of age, banks his delicate spruce and canvas craft and heads west.  He was, after all, my father and I loved him and knew him for 50 years.

HTM, 2006

HTM, 2006

–JDCM

5th Circle of Paros bicycle race…

The Circle of Paros bicycle race has come and gone and I feel pretty good about it.  The course was the reverse of last year so the hills were more vertical and the downgrades less intense.  Still, I managed to ride it in about the same time as last year, coming in at 2:38:37 compared to last year’s 2:37+.  Like I said, I am alright with that. My Boardman cycle was an excellent ride.  About 6 kilometers from the finish my right hamstring cramped with a very painful charley horse.  It is bad enough when that happens and you are not moving at 30 km/h on a 8.6 kilo bicycle…no time to stop!  I had to stretch my leg while I was pedaling.  Then I had to get my foot back in the pedal.  There are loads of pictures of the whole race here but I gleaned a couple of good ones for you all…

The final kilometer...photo by Dimitris Chaniotis

The final kilometer…photo by Dimitris Chaniotis

The end...photo by Robert Van der Most

The end…photo by Robert Van der Most

The times are here…

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B4PyrkQmGFMMVy1TYjlDVVR2aE51TEM4a1lBWGFVUnk4eWMw/view

 

–JDCM

The Dancing Bear of Change…

It has been a month since my last post and, like a friend wrote so well, it is not because nothing has happened, but rather because so much has occurred that is tough to sort it all out.  I’ll try.

I have finally delivered my new portfolio to the framers. I am only a few days off schedule, and I am alright with that.  There are 24 pieces of assorted images, things that caught my eye.  In fact I am considering of naming the portfolio just that–“Caught My Eye.”  It feels very good to have this off my desk.  Now I am thinking of what is next…

Summer is beginning here on Paros and the tourists and weekenders are ambling off of the ferries in larger numbers, with backpacks and rollies, hats and sunblock.  The roads are more busy with cars and other vehicles so when I bike I must be extra cautious, especially in Paroikia or any of the other towns.  Those are the most dangerous places to ride a bicycle here.

The Circle of Paros bicycle race is this weekend and I will happily participate.  I have been riding more this winter and spring but not so much in the past few weeks.  The weather, combined with a serious head cold, kept me off the saddle for almost a fortnight and I was also out of town for a bit.  I am racing against myself, so I will keep it light and fun.

I have sold my high-end Canon gear and invested in a smart, small Fuji FinePix X-T1.  The images are sharp and since it is a mirror-less camera, it makes almost no noise when the shutter fires.  It has some gimmicky gizmos that I am not keen on, but I do have to use them.  It also has an array of Fuji film simulations that are pretty good too.  I find myself doing more with less.  I purchased it with the kit 18-55 mm lens.  I love that I can use my Voigtlander/Leica M lenses when attached to an adaptor.

Hazy Sifnos

Hazy Sifnos

Change seems to be all around me these days.  The days change, and with them the seasons.  Beginnings and endings are macrocosmic reflections of larger shifts.  The best I can do is embrace the dancing bear of change and revel in its sometimes disconcerting waltz.  I can try to lead, but only when the beast allows.  I can do my work, help out when I can, and not worry about the tune.  Like a young boy standing on the feet of an elder, I let my ursine partner carry me along…

–JDCM