How often are we really moved in our lives by something we see or hear? Whether it be a printed photograph, a film, a song or a book, I’m sure there are times we all recall seeing or hearing something that has really moved us. Sometimes we’ve been moved to take action on something that’s been stirring inside us because those lyrics or visuals just won’t leave our heads.
These days we are so bombarded by “content” from every direction we turn that it’s hard to let anything sink in. The message gets lost amongst the clutter of mediocrity. We get blinded by all the packaging and fizz and just don’t see or hear what people are trying to say – if they are saying anything at all. The human connections don’t seem to be made.
Last night I went to see Jackson Browne in concert. I knew it would be an intimate experience because it was just Jackson playing an acoustic set – no band – just Jackson and the audience. As I took my seat in the theater I saw the simple set on stage – one chair – one small table with a cup of tea on it – one amplifier, a keyboard and his guitars. Granted there were 16 guitars for Jackson to choose from throughout the night – but ultimately it was about as simple and as basic as it gets.
I have been following Jackson Browne since his early days when I was living in California. I grew up with his music and lyrics over the years as it changed with the times and his own life’s experiences. I fell in love with his music and to his music. I’ve been amazed and inspired by his incredible gift to connect with people on a very intimate and personal level.
As I looked around at the faces in the theater last night as he played in such a pure and simple way, I could see that I wasn’t the only one that had been taken to another place. The women in the audience were in love with him and the men were in awe. We were with him the entire evening listening to every word and note.
As his music lingers in my head today, I can’t help but think about all the stories that are in my head that are dying to get out. I remind myself to pay attention to those stirrings because in my heart I know that those are the very thoughts that I need to listen to. The one thing that I’ve learned over the years is that the ideas that are closest to my heart are the very ones I need to act on because ultimately they will rise above the clutter and resonate with others.
Thanks Jackson for your inspiration.


My plan was to move back East, and pursue my dream of becoming a photojournalist. That was where my heart was – “telling the story” through my images and I wanted to share those images through the pages of magazines. But even back then photo essays and the magazines that printed them were threatened by a bad economy and changing times. Look had just folded and Life was seeing its demise – the first time around.
And then about 10 years ago I had an assignment for Islands Magazine to cover the
an island where time seems to have stopped.
patchwork of every shade of green you can imagine, stretching from the barren upland’s to the blue of the sea. The sea was always present.
waterfalls and I thought that fairies must surely live there, somewhere beneath the ferns. The island was enchanting on every level. One day I came upon a crowd of people in a field. I asked someone what was going on and they replied that it was a turnip weeding contest. How wonderful I thought, a contest to weed a field. I spent the morning caught up in the event, taking a few images, but mostly just talking with people
and storing those conversations in my head.
– us Americans, our culture at that time in our history. He was an observer of “all” people not just the beautiful ones captured on the pages of Harper’s Bazaar, and he captured those observations for generations to come.
Even though this plantation is worlds away from my cultural norm – I get a feeling of comfort mixed with a bit of melancholy for my own past when I’m there.
Will it add or will it distract? What piece of music should I use and what will that add to the story? Will the music overpower the piece – because many times it can. And too many times people try to add music to mediocre images to make them more exciting.












Pinetop Perkins is a legendary boogie woogie piano player in the blues world. He’s 96 years old and still going strong. He is living proof of a man who is “living his passion. I’ve become friends with Pinetop’s manager over the years and yesterday we got together over lunch to catch up on what was going on in our lives. I hadn’t been to the Delta for a few years and she was giving me the latest news on some of the musicians that I had interviewed for my film. Four have since died – Little Milton, Robert Lockwood Jr., Ike Turner and most recently Sam Carr.
I spent the morning with Pinetop sitting on the front porch of an old shack on Hopson’s Plantation. The crowds from the party the day before had come and gone and it was just the two of us, having a conversation on a glorious October morning. It was memorable and I captured his stories which I hope will be heard by generations to come.