Postcard from Barrio Viejo

This image is from a very special section of Tucson called Barrio Viejo. It is the old town section of Tucson. Barrio Viejo, the old neighborhood, mainly consists of Tucson's 19th century homes and commercial buildings. The area isn’t very big, but it has some of the most interesting doors you will every see.

Ironically, it is located right next to modern downtown Tucson. In the 1960's & '70's, much of the old neighborhood was bulldozed to make way for urban redevelopment, including the Tucson Convention Center. Today, most Tucsonans would be happy to bulldoze the Convention Center if it would bring back the heritage that was lost.

In the 1880's & '90's, this area was home to a culturally diverse community of working class people from America and all over the world. Many worked for the Southern Pacific Railroad. With the arrival of the SP in 1880, Tucson changed forever. Instead of a hopelessly impoverished, dusty little Mexican village in the middle of nowhere, it became the growing Southwestern city that we see today.

The old architectural styles of the Barrio Viejo are maintained by the local residents…proud of the area’s history. But they are just forward thinking enough to add some special features to the homes here by adding unique doors and bold colors. Besides homes, there are professional offices, art galleries, vacation rentals and a few restaurants and drinking establishments. There are even some new buildings that echo the architecture & character of the neighborhood.

The area is listed in the National Historic Register.

Postcard from the Desert

Sunset in the Desert

The sweet aroma of desert dust fills my lungs
While I sit and cherish every breath.
Gazing at the beautiful sunset in the west
I can’t help but to tear up at the sight of the
Wonderful purple, pink, and orange colors
Dance across the sky as they bid the sun goodnight.
Unaware, my hand slowly reaches out to the left of me,
Tries to get a grasp but all it catches is air.
Bowing my head I realize yet again
That I am here alone, watching the sunset
With no one at my side.
After the first few seconds,
My body begins to tremble, shake involuntarily.
There’s a horrible aching pain in my chest,
I tightly try to clench at my heart as I begin
To either laugh or cry, neither a difference to me.
It begins to beat faster, my shaking more violent.
I look to my left again praying there will be someone
There to hold me.
Quickly I blink a few times to wash the tears back,
Hoping when it clears that my love is there.
To my dismay I sit here in the desert alone,
Watching the sunset once again with no one at my side.
Taking deep breaths and wrapping my arms around my knees,
I gaze back straight ahead to watch the beauty of a desert sunset.
One of these days I’ll have someone by my side,
However that someday is not happening today.

Poem by Vanessa ‘0

Digital Painting by J.R. Corkrum

(To see a larger version of this image, just click on it)
To see more of my work, both in photography and digital painting, please visit my website, www.corkrum.com…
or visit my Flickr Page to see my latest works.

Postcard from the Oregon Coast

If I could find anything blacker than black, I'd use it.  -J. M. W. Turner

Some weeks ago, I wrote about my visit to the Turner Exhibition in San Francisco. As I said then, Turner is my favorite painter. I have loved his works since the first time I ever saw one years and years ago. Not only have I seen his work in San Francisco, but also in the Tate Gallery in London (his home turf, so to speak) and in other galleries around the world.

Several years ago, I attended a three -day family reunion with my wife’s family. It was held on the Oregon Coast, near Lincoln City. The rental of a large home on the ocean was arranged. The three trees in this painting were the view from the living room window. I took a photo of them, (along with many others that weekend), not sure what I would do with this particular one.

With the help of Photoshop, Lightroom, and some new digital painting plugins) I decided to try and create a digital painting in the style of Turner. The picture above was the result. If Turner were alive, he would probably laugh at it. But no matter.

Turner was marvelous when it came to painting clouds. He was a master of the sky. In the original photo, a storm was clearing but another was coming in from the west. These hearty trees have overcome any kind of weather that the Pacific Ocean could bring. This was perfect archetype for the brushes of Turner. So it was that I chose the style of JMW Turner as my model for this painting.

I am sure that any Turner expert could reign down a deluge of criticism on my humble efforts but, that is OK with me. I am not Turner…I am only me. It is my rendition of a painting done in the technique of my favorite painter. I loved how it turned out in the end and am pleased to present it to you for your consideration.

Postcard from Paris

“You start at a café table because everything in Paris starts a café table.” -Irwin Shaw

Life in Paris revolves around the café…it has for decades. It is the normal part of life in that great city. An English journalist once observed that in London there are 5,000 people for every waiter. In Paris, there are 5,000 waiters for every person. That may be very close to the mark. Most Parisians start and end their day in a café.

The café in this painting sits in Montmartre. If you are not familiar with Paris, Montmartre is the only hill in Paris. It is 426 feet high. You can see it from everywhere. When you see a movie set in Paris and you see outdoor stairs, that is Montmartre. On top of the hill sits the white-domed Basilica of the Sacré-Cœur. It is quite tall, topped by a beautiful dome. There are stairs that one can climb all the way to the top to get a breath-taking view of this magnificent city. I know because I did it.

As an aside, there are 3 very high places to get a great view of Paris…Sacre-Coeur, the Eifel Tower, and the Montparnasse Tower (the tallest building in Paris). A Parisian friend once asked me if I knew the best place to view Paris. I, of course, said no. He explained that the best view was from Montparnasse Tower. The reason…because it is the only place where you can’t see Montparnasse Tower. I agree as the building is not very attractive.

Back to Montmartre… you can get up the hill by either walking up the nearly never-ending, but beautiful stairs or take a special bus. I say it is special as there is only one seat on either side of the aisle. The streets are very, very narrow. When I took the bus, I thought sure the driver would hit several cars along the way or at least knock off their rear-view mirrors. He never did, but on several occasions it was very close.

For many years, Montmartre was a center for arts, especially the painters. At the beginning of the twentieth century, during the Belle Époque (translation: Beautiful Era, from 1871-1914) , many artists had studios or worked in or around Montmartre, including Salvador Dali, Amedeo Modigliani, Claude Monet, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Piet Mondrian, Pablo Picasso, Camille Pissarro and Vincent van Gogh. Today, many painters gather on a daily basis in the large square outside the Basilica.

But around 1909, Montmartre as a center for the arts began to unwind. It began with Pablo Picasso moving to Montparnasse. As he was the foremost painter of that time, other painters began to move there also. By the end of World War I, if not before, Montparnasse became the new center for the arts and artists. There were writers and poets living there already, but all art now seemed to begin and end in this section of Paris on the Left Bank.

That’s where we pick up the story of the cafes. In the 1920’s writers from America and the British Isles seemed to flock to Paris, specifically Montparnasse. They are known by the term, “The Lost Generation.” Included are Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, F. Scott Fitzgerald, D. H. Lawrence, Gertrude Stein, Archibald MacLeish, Kay Boyle, Hart Crane, John Dos Passos, William Faulkner, Dorothy Parker and others.

The cafes are where they, the painters, poets, composers and their friends met on a daily basis. Poor artists and writers, which included most of them at the time, would rent tables by the hour and drink coffee and wine and talk into the late night. Cafes such as Le Dôme, La Closerie des Lilas, La Rotonde, Le Select, and La Coupole, all of which are still in business, were the places where starving artists could occupy a table all evening for a few centimes. If they fell asleep, the waiters were instructed not to wake them.

Arguments were common, some fueled by intellect, others by alcohol, and if there were fights, and there often were, the police were never summoned. If you couldn't pay your bill, people such as La Rotonde's proprietor, Victor Libion, would often accept a drawing, holding it until the artist could pay. As such, there were times when the café's walls were littered with a collection of artworks, that today would make the curators of the world's greatest museums drool with envy. Cafes were the center of all arts, not only for Paris, but for the world.

You arrived at your café at 1 p.m. and stayed until seven. You went out for dinner. You came back at nine and stayed till 2 a.m. -Jean Moreas

While the hey-days of the Montparnasse cafes ended with World War II, they are still an important part of French life…it could be called a living tradition. Today, you can see writers and poets slaving away to produce their masterworks…now using laptops as well as pencil and paper. Times change, but traditions don’t.

Having spent time in these cafes, I can tell you they are special. I will admit I am fascinated by Paris of the 20^th century, and to sit where some of the greatest artists and writers in the history of the world spent part of their daily routine…well it was very special. I love the cafes of Paris and the life style they engender. Starbucks and other coffee shops are just not quite the same.

“You end at a café table because everything in Paris ends at a café table.” -Irwin Shaw