I painted these two square acrylic paintings a few weeks ago but I’ve not shown them publicly before. The more I look at them, the more I like the colorful abstraction they represent. There was no particular conscious thought or feeling when I painted them, yet of course, there was. Sometimes it’s hard to know if I’ve painted what I might have been feeling at the time, or if I read something into it after it was finished. I think of autumn and the colors of leaves and trees when I see them now.

Between previous visits to Greece and our current trip to Cyprus, where we are for the very first time, I’d kind of forgotten how much I like Greek food.

Yesterday, we indulged in a delightful Sunday dinner at family-owned Militzis, a charming and traditional tavern situated by the sea in Larnaca. The place was bustling with local families, savoring their meals and relishing in each other’s company.

We rounded off the dinner with a couple of glasses of Ouzo which then reminded me of a beach party a long time ago on a completely different island in the Mediterranean….

I can’t recall if I’ve shared this story before, but during my month-long Inter Rail tour across Europe in 1983, I boarded a ferry from Brindisi (Italy) and found myself on the Greek island of Corfu, accompanied by a lively group of blonde Danish gals and some cool dudes from New York.

Once we arrived on the island, we claimed a portion of the relatively unknown Agios Gordos beach on Corfu’s west coast. We spent our days swimming, playing frisbee, and enjoying carefree parties throughout the nights.

One afternoon, my newfound friend Todd bought a large watermelon and a bottle of Ouzo. He skillfully created a small hole in the melon and poured the Ouzo inside. We let it marinate in the fridge for a few hours, eagerly awaiting the flavorful outcome. Once ready, we sliced the infused melon and devoured it with great enthusiasm.

I can’t recall the number of slices I had or the specific details of the rest of that evening. However, I do vividly remember the throbbing headache that greeted me the next morning. Apparently, I had drifted off to sleep inside Todd’s compact beach tent, just below the terrace of our hotel, where everyone was now enjoying their morning meal.

Bathing in sweat and feeling unbearably hot, I stumbled out of the tent and made my way to my hotel room. To my surprise, both Todd and an unfamiliar girl were fast asleep and snoring on my bed, devoid of any clothing.

It took nearly a decade after that wild party before I could even fathom sipping Ouzo or any other pastis. But last night, it brought back fond memories and tasted absolutely delightful!

This is the beautiful cover of an amazing book of memoirs by Laura Raboff. Laura’s my cousin on my father’s side of the family. She’s an accomplished artist, art teacher, writer, and a reliable source of creative and intellectual inspiration. I remember Laura mentioning her book project a while back and was happy to be among a small number of people to receive it. It is such a gem.

Laura’s a bit older than I and though we rarely met when I was a young boy living in L.A., the emotional and creative connection we’ve made as adults has at least partially made up for lost time. Laura and her husband Barry came to visit us a few years ago and the reunion was a real blast.

I’ve always had a thing for strong, stubborn, creatively gifted women like cousin Laura and my wife and partner Charlotte, whom I’ve been living happily and working collaboratively with for almost 27 years. 

For what it’s worth, both my mother and father were creative folks. But where my father likely suppressed my mother’s artistic talents and needs (she was a really good illustrator), I’ve always encouraged and been supportive of Charlotte’s ideas and creative pursuits. And vice versa, of course.

I clearly have a relatively severe case of chronic Industrial Fetish. It’s not as bad as it once was, but it nonetheless still lingers and demands a fix now and again. I got a nice dose on Thursday when a friend of a friend invited me to a low-level basement in downtown Malmö. I’ve collected a few images from that excursion, most of which you can see here.

After a few initial hurdles due to print quality with Amazon’s Print-on-Demand (POD) service, Heavy Metal in Sieng Gong’s Talat Noi – my 20th book – has just been published. Such a perfect way to finish this long-running project. I’ll probably visit Sieng Gong next time I’m in Bangkok, but only out of curiosity as to how far the gentrification process has gone since last fall. I’ve not got access to any reliable crystal ball, but at some point, the Sieng Gong I’ve documented in my new book and mini-documentary will likely cease to exist. Ce la vie.

This Friday, May 5, my exhibit “Silhouette Surfers” opens at Clarion Hotel Sea U in Helsingborg. The vernissage is between 5:00 pm to 8:00 pm and if you’re in the vicinity, I would love to see you there. My images will be shown at the hotel until June 30, in case you can’t make it.

Almost every summer for a quarter of a century, this is where Charlotte, Elle, and I chilled out for a few weeks with countless sunset-lit dinners, and visits to the harbor for swims and ice cream.

During the pandemic, we spent a lot of time here and provided the house with long overdue tender loving care. I also finally got around to producing a book filled with my favorite moments from Stora Hult and the village of Vejbystrand.

Soon, this chapter of our lives is coming to a close. Concurrently, a new one will begin. Where is yet to be decided.

While some get noticeably anxious and visibly nervous when things change, especially if they’re not in the driver’s seat, I typically experience emotionally charged situations like this to be an inspiring opportunity for something new and improved to come into my life.

Consequently and with the obvious exception of my childhood, there are very few chapters and decisions in my life that I feel remorse or regret about. Perhaps it’s my overly optimistic outlook or, that I subconsciously thrive on the drama that typically accompanies a life-changing rift.

In any case, it’s in a situation like this that I’m eternally grateful for having filmed and photographed so many of our cherished memories from Stora Hult and Vejbystrand. A few of these can be seen here.