I’ve been playing around with a new piece of software, a Christmas present from my daughter. And while I don’t mention a lot of tech this one is pretty cool. It’s been about week and a half and I think I’m getting the hang of this…

–Rich

This was taken on the ridge of Prospect hill overlooking Fruitlands in Harvard Massachusetts. The large feature on the let is Mount Wachusetts. Slightly right of center you can see Mount Monadnock. And yes you can see how lazy I am by the inclusion of the mirror of the car.

Despite the fact that New England hasn’t seen much snow as of yet, I hope everyone has a wondeful holiday season.

–Rich

I’ve been having some fun over on Tumblr (re)constructing posts. One, Rich Beaubien Photography is a gathering of photos from various sources so they are all finally in one place. The other, polymathic, is a fun experiment where I post references to other folks stuff so you’ll see the sort of thing that tickles my fancy.

I should be back soon.
–Rich

As many know I take photos of many contemporary poets (aka slam or performance poets). I have a Facebook account which keeps me in contact with this very large circle of performance poet friends. While my ability to fashion words into cogent thoughts is rather rough at best these folks take it to a completely different level. Mostly I’m a visual artist and so I feel lucky that they let me play off their words during performances to take photos. There’s always an emotional connection to what they are speaking and I work off that.

Recently well known Denver poet Paulie Lipman put out a request for some visual inspiration. I stepped in and provided him with a selection of photos with the hope that it would prompt something – a kind of reverse connection. I did not provide him with titles, captions, nor any explanation about the images (I even removed the copyright so there’d be no distractions). It was purely all about the image. In any case here’s the photo and the Paulie’s beautiful reply.

Steel

Before the fire, it
had no name
No shape, memory
or purpose
Abstract
Its only blood
was Possibility

With the forge
came structure
Limitless prospect
etched into
5×2.3 centimeters
Intent’s determined face
stamped into being

Still, without label
these could have been
windchimes
castanets
26 bead rosaries, with
a mirror at its end to reflect
the true face of God

But then
the letters are struck
and Identity is given
indelible and unfortunate
They now will carry name,
rank, blood type
They will be worrying stone
albatross
prayer clutch
wistful souvenir
the last CLICK CLACK
before shut eyes
and a walking tombstone
the only way to know
that your child had come back
at all

Only when steel
goes back to ground
does it remember its Possibility
and weep for the fire that would
bring it back

And just to give you a bit of a caption which Paulie did not have… In the North End of Boston just behind the famous Old North Church within a brick courtyard sits this Dog Tag Memorial for the fallen American soldiers who fought in the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars. When the wind blows, the tags make an eerie clickity-clacking sound.

–Rich