Peter J. Crowley

Fine Art Photographer

Search Results for: Layered Life

Shadows of Old Roads

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Long Live the King

Self Portrait from an old road littered with bentwood chairs, chop sticks, white table clothes, ambiance! Memories of past life’s exposed on Kodachrome the king of color gone soon overrun by greedy IPodians creating fast food art supersize it and Twit it off to everyone cause it is about you this very moment what could be more important?

Image above not made on Kodachrome but who knows once it hits the vanilla screen it’s goodnuff. so long pjc

Image Made on Kodachrome 1973

“Give us the nice bright colors, the greens of summer……” Paul Simon

The City as a Muse

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Thread City Willimantic Connecticut. The stories told by the walls and oily floors of the granite mills on the banks of the Willimantic River. Stories told with a broken English accent, French Canadian, Irish, Italian, Spanish wherever labor [people] could be brought in cheaply to work and replaced like old shoes when a new crop could be imported with that dream. Now, well 20 years ago the mill owners cashed in their Victorians on the hill for the new crop of labor was in the south and the mills sat silently telling tales of romance, hard work and the new life that had left them behind.


New London, a Royal port when the fleet was in I’m sure. I haven’t lived there, yet I am inspired by the tales of the waterfront. Bank Street bars and brawls sailors in dress whites whisper to me on the breeze that blows up the alleys from the Thames. Fewer sailors and more color as the artists move in and repaint the history of New London, with phallic subs on one side of the Thames and Viagra to keep the hard line old Admirals shooting off.


Norwich since 2001-2009 a favorite building and early coffee stop round and round, many old facades, many old boys, round and round, many new facades, round and round. Hang on to the rail change is coming, round and round.


A Muse without breasts.


There are places I go, within and without that are like Brigadoon
Except while there I am present through out the century.
Small areas, Expansive thoughts,
Neon, a door, Life’s that
traveled Through the door
It is fictional History
You provide the memories and the ghosts!

February 18 2009 Copyright Peter J. Crowley

Winter to spring, What is most valuble?

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Winter is reality and summer just a mannequin.


As the temperatures rise [we can only hope] and the dollar falls I ponder what is it that is of value? Friends of course lead my list. But beyond friends as an Artist I look at what other people put value on? Of course there are your tools and materials. But what else is there “Time!” How do others value the time of an Artist? I ponder how an Artist is defined in this new global world? Certainly not as a profession for a profession is defined by “Billable Hours.” Is it technique? Tools? Mega Pixels? Something you do on the side to give back to the community? Or perhaps Community Service after you have stolen the future of the elderly, the poor and the children of the world. What is the value of time? What defines an artist? Just a couple of light hearted musings on a cold February morning. enjoy pjc

Free prints [for those who’s patronage keeps me here] Feb discounts for all.

Consider This

“If you don’t read the newspaper you are uninformed, if you do read the newspaper you are misinformed.” Mark Twain written prior to the birth of Rupert Murdoch

Photographic Art Jazz Live Doug Jones