Sometimes people refer to me and my artwork. That always makes me uncomfortable. I don’t consider myself an artist. I have zero art training. My degree is in English literature. I’m more of an artisan, someone who crafts things with an obvious purpose. In my case, the pictures, video — and music — I create […]
It’s over. It’s finally over. It feels like I’ve been shooting nothing but podium people since August. Of course, that’s not quite true. But that’s what it feels like. To Paul LePage: Congratulations. I’ll see you in Augusta, soon. To Mike Michaud: Thanks for giving it your best. I know you’ll land on your feet. […]
I was at Hadlock Field in Portland on Friday night to catch Rusney Castillo, who just inked seven-year, $72.5 million contract with the Boston Red Sox, play some ball with the Portland Sea Dogs. Portland beat the Binghamton Mets, taking a 2-1 game lead in the Eastern League’s Eastern Division Championship Series.
Tattoos are commonplace in Portland. When the warm temperatures of summer reign and skin is revealed in abundance, you see them everywhere. Full sleeves of intricate imagery creep from shoulders to elbows. Skirts hover above decorated legs and sweetheart’s names blaze across many a sternum for the world to see. But one tattoo stood out […]
Last summer, stemming from a nearly random series of events radiating from the International Women’s Day Fashion Show in Portland, I had the good fortune to meet Steve Rukongi. He was directing a play he’d written in French (one of his native languages) and translated into English. It was called “The Sunset.” It was about the history […]
Last fall, the owners of a boarded-up storefront on Congress Street, near its intersection with High Street, asked painter Fletcher Curran to beautify their patch of plywood. He painted a ravishing, pale woman with technicolor tresses flowing past her purple shift. It was a 100% percent improvement over the plain particle board and a a far […]
Tattoo Tale: Gary Chapin was visiting his friend and accordion mentor Sylvain Piron in France. They were at a dinner party and, as he is known to do, Piron began to play his accordion. But the crowd wanted Chapin to play and shouted for, “L’Autre Diatoniste,” which is French for ‘the other accordion player.” The moniker stuck. […]