low tide

Bahia Honda State Park, about 40 minutes north of Key West, had been at some point voted one of among the five most beautiful parks in the United States. I didn't get to vote on it but I agree, it is what natural tropical beauty is all about
and what people up north imagine when they dream
about paradise.

Yeah, there are parking lots and picnic tables, bathrooms and a gift shop, snorkeling party boats and a buoyed beach for the kiddies but, turn left where most folks turn right and you find an amazingly peaceful place.

The Atlantic beach is pristine, completely untouched by any kind of governmental intervention or engineering to make it more hospitable for humans.
Beaches heaped with washed up seaweed, coral and an occasional lobster trap. If, as I've seen it happen, a storm season washes away the beachfront, it stays that way until the next storm season puts it back. The air is fresh, the water is clear and all the while the tides roll in and out as easily as nature's breathing.
My restless spirit is quieted and my faith reassured,
every time I walk it's length.

another day in paradise - VIDEO

Its been such a "to die for" beautiful day today I thought I'd reprise this video I shot and put together on a very similar day a couple of years ago.

Enjoy. . .

pictures of paradise

working man blues

Even in paradise, everyone has to pull their weight. . .

It's a big job just gettin' by with nine kids and a wife,
I've been a workin' man dang near all my life.
But I'll keep on working,
long as my two hands are fit to use.
I'll drink a little beer in the evening
and sing a little bit of these working man blues.

I keep my nose on the grindstone,

I work hard every day.
Might get a little tired on the weekend,
after I draw my pay.
But I'll keep on workin'
and come Monday I'll be right back with the crew.
I'll drink a little beer in the evening
and sing a little bit of these working man blues.

Sometimes I think about leaving,
do a little bummin' around.
Throw my bills out the window
and catch a train to another town.
But I just keep on workin',
I gotta buy those kids a brand new pair of shoes.
And yeah I'll drink a little beer in the evening,
and sing a little bit of these working man blues.

Hey hey, the working man, the working man like me
I ain't never been on welfare
that's one place I won't be.
Cause I'll just keep on workin'
long as my two hands are fit to use.
I'll drink a little beer in the evening
and sing a little bit of these working man blues.

"Working Man Blues" is a tune by Merle Haggard.
Given all the construction workers working next door that I've met over the past 6 months and my recently out of work state of being, it just seemed right.

Click the link below if you care to hear the real thing.
WORKING MAN BLUES

this&that

January in Paradise

So it's January in paradise.
The time of year when the cooler weather kicks in and locals huddle back into their cocoons.

Little by little the festive lights lining the streets and adorning the quaint Old Town homes, flicker out. Then somehow, so does the holiday spark in everyone's eyes.

We hang up our "gay apparel" and once again dawn our hair-shirts with the realization that "o sh*t here comes
tax time again".

These are the "grunt months", but there are only four months more to go until we're back on the beach.

Left of Sensible

The Keys, and particularly Key West, have a reputation for being just a little "left of sensible".
(and that's why I like it here)

But when you think about it, it makes perfect sense.
Who was the Spanish explorer who discovered the Keys
back in 1513?
It was Juan Ponce De Leone.
And what was he looking for when he got here?
The fountain of youth. (go figure!)
Our "left of sensible" thing must be somehow genetic.
(or maybe there's just something in the water!)

a new year, a new adventure

For the past 17 years, here in Key West, there has been a newspaper publication called "Key West the Newspaper".
For the last 12 of those 17 years I've been that publication's
Art Director.

During those years, columnists, associate editors and sales people have come and gone, but mostly Key West the Newspaper was a 2 man operation.
Dennis Cooper, the paper's founder and publisher, wrote the news and I made sure it was fit for print.

Early last week, Key West the Newspaper died.

It never paid very well but through the years Dennis and I were successful workmates, drinking buddies,
close friends, brothers.
That for me was, in many ways, more valuable than cash.

For me, Key West the Newspaper was a good gig
and I'll miss it.
But now it's a new year and time for a new adventure.

Stay tuned. . .

happy new year my friends

Wishing you all the very best.
a digital illustration by Art Winstanley
"A New Year in Paradise" © 2008 Arthur A. Winstanley

a word from our sponsor - VIDEO

christmas in key west

So I went out walking on Christmas Eve.
Mostly to get some evening air but also to see some Christmas lights around town.

I never really know where I'm headed when I wander out on my walks, I sort of just follow my nose and the internal guidance system does the rest.

That particular night, I found my way to BayView Park, which is the place where the official city of Key West Christmas Tree lives, surrounded by a sort of Santa's Village.

While I waited on the corner of Eisenhower Dr. and Truman Ave. for the light to change, a family came up from behind me and stood there also waiting for the light.
They were a family of a Mom and Dad, two small (I guessed maybe 5 or 6 year old) children - a girl and a boy - and their aunt (the Mom's sister).
I wished them a Merry Christmas, the light changed, we crossed the street and all headed into the park.
In the park we went our separate ways. They, to have their family frolic and me, to take a few pictures. I shot around them as best I could as the vibe wasn't right for me to make them the subject.

My subject was Christmas in Key West.
How we celebrate it and the way it looks for a half dozen weeks in a city that never knows snow.

Wandering around town that night, woke the ghost of Christmas past in me.
I relived my mother's butter cookies, how my grandfather lined up bottles of tawny port wine, like so many tin soldiers, under the tree to give as presents and how my own children badgered their mother and I at six o'clock on Christmas morning for permission to tear open their presents

Mine has been a good life. (dare I say, a wonderful life?)
Not without it's bumps and bruises to be sure but getting past the impact of those, is all about attitude and faith and I have plenty of both so, no worries.

The magic of Christmas-time is, at least for a few days, nothing much else matters.
The world seems to be just a little less frenzied, the people around seem to smile a bit more and the mornings (if you keep out of the stores and malls) are just a little more quiet.

The keys to Christmas (no pun intended) are compassion and love. One way or another, the more we give,
the more we receive.

happy merry

brass balls

If there's anything I've learned from my [longer than I ever expected it would be] lifetime, it's that there's not a problem this world can throw at you that can't be solved.

All it takes is an optimistic outlook and a pair of brass balls.

o.k, break's over

Between living next door (and I mean right next door) to a construction site for the past six months that, just about the time of my last post, got incredibly loud with beeping backhoes, roofers hammering, screaming circular saws and the incessant drone of a quartet of orbital sanders that sound like a swarm of large bees.

And the painful drain circling demise of the Key West the Newspaper (my bread and butter graphics/art direction contract), it's very confusing "resurrection by popular demand" and then having to re-design the publishing process as, for now, the BluePaper limps along from week to week.
I've been more than just a little distracted and honestly, not the happiest camper in the tent.

So, true to the rule that says "if you don't have anything nice to say (and trust me I didn't), don't say anything at all" I figured it was best to take a break from my normally optimistic blogging. (and believe me, all the pictures I shot during that break were really gray and gloomy - talk about art imitating life)

Anyway, I always had faith that in time,things would sort themselves out. After all, as the saying goes, " when God closes a door, he opens a window". But in this case that window was on the 14th floor and I don't do well with heights so the sorting out took a little longer than I'd wished it would.

Then yesterday I woke up (a good start), got out of bed, stood out on the porch coffee cup in hand, took a look around and thought, "look at where you live, the life you've made for yourself with caring friends and loving family and hey, you still have your health; get your sorry head out of your ass."

It was time to start dosing myself with some comic relief.
Bill Hicks, Jon Stewart, the Republican "Presidential" debates. . .

By the end of the day, the fog of funk lifted and I was back to my "it's all good" self.
Besides, it's almost Christmas and even and though I've been known, at times, to be an irascible son of a bitch,
I'm no Gingrinch.

So enough already; break's over.