Sunday, October 30, 2005

Take one idiot, add a 4wd jeep, and some woods. What do ya get? An idiot with a 4WD jeep stuck in the woods.




So there I was, covered head to toe in mud. Cell phone not working. Jeep stuck up to the axles.

I'm cold.

I'm pissed.

I'm a frikkin idiot!

But a lucky frikkin idiot.

Why did I decide to take Mellon road? Mellon road is not a "road" but a four wheel drive trail. Why did I continue down Mellon "Road"? Why do men climb mountains? Dive to the depths of the see? Eat strange exotic animals in far away places?

I almost made it without getting stuck, almost. I buried the jeep up to the axles. When I stepped out I was in mud up to my crotch, in the middle of no where, and without cell phone service. I was screwed. I walked about a quarter of a mile down to a road, a dirt road hard packed and meant to be traversed by people like me, not the mud bog the jeep, my plans for Quabbin, and my pride were stuck in. There was a house near by but I just couldn't muster the courage to walk up to the door at 7:00 AM covered in mud, looking like the swamp thing. So I just headed back to the jeep to sit and pout for a bit until a more decent time to present myself to strangers. Then I hear the truck.........

I was saved.


To make a long story short, a stranger risked his vehicle to yank me out. I got his address and he will get a nice chunk of change for helping.

Of course it doesn't end there.

I drove home wearing sopping wet shoes and socks, a pair of underwear, and a black pull over. You should have seen the look I got at the gas station when I put air into my tires wrapped in a checkered blanket.

All I can say is "Shit Happens."

The only shots I got this day were a few Polariods I took of the jeep and my clothes when I finally got home.




Oh yeah, and by the way.

I never made it to Quabbin Reservoir.

Why isn't this man in his bed?

Well as I type my clock, adjusted for day light savings times tells me it is 4:35AM as I type this. Why am I up doing laundry, drinking a cup of Joe, and not in bed snoring blissfully away next to my wife you ask yourself?


Because I have a plans. Big plans! Sunrise is 6:18AM. Quabbin Reservoir is an hour away.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Ever feel like this?

I don't know why but this shot describes how I feel today. Blah, unorganized, mind going off in different directions trying to get nowhere as quick as it can. Just one of those daze I guess.

(Kodak TCN 400, Heavily cropped from the original. Wish I had seen this abstract as presented when I shot this.)

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Worcesters Rural Cemetery

I love photographing in cemeteries. They offer a photographer so many subjects that its hard to walk into one and not at least come out with a few decent shots.




These shot were taken from in Worcester's Rural Cemetery on Grove Street. I have been to this cemetery at least three times. Each time I came away with something new. These are shots I took a few weeks ago on a Saturday morning.




The thing about this cemetery is that the weather and time of year can change the same shots feeling drastically. That can be said for most cemeteries I think but the Rural Cemetery in particular the effect is even more dramatic.

I have a few secret spots here I have shot before that I have yet to see anyone else get. I would post one of them but I am looking to redo the shot and I don't wanna give it away just yet. Plus while cleaning my puter of dead files I deleted it but accident. I still have the neg though.



All shots Kodak UC 400. Minor adjustments for the most part. The "Gorham" shot has been altered a bit more then the others. (Distractions in the background removed).

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Oh look! Shadows! Wow........

I think the rain has finally gotten to me. I wanted to write something witty and deep about shadows and this picture but I just aint in the mood. So here is a shot of shadows. Might as well be a rabbit with a pancake on its head.






Kodak UC 400

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

And now for the obligatory....


Picture of the Old Stone Church. You cant live in the Worcester area,own a camera, and not have at least one shot of this church. I would bet that it is probably the most photographed object in Worcester County.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Ahh Man! Not this crap again!

The great weather predictors say we are to be hit with a Nor'Easter sometime tomorrow with high wind advisory.

I just want to let it be known that I am now officially unhappy about these events and I am lodging a complaint against Mother Nature for screwing with my fall activities.

There I have said what I needed to say.

I will now hold my breath until I receive a proper response.




(Kodak UC 400, Cropped in PhotoShop, contrast tweak,)

Saturday, October 22, 2005

"Why Maine?" they ask.





Why Maine?

Because I love Maine.
My wife loves Maine.
And then there is this.........
PHOTOGRAPHY'S MAINE CONNECTION



Fuji Reala 100. Mild level adjustment and glow added in PhotoShop.
( And NO, I dont know what the hell it is.)

Friday, October 21, 2005

Two Bucks, Dad, and I were in the woods one day......

Today we put my father in his final resting place. He is in a veterans cemetery in Winchendon. The service was short. Just the immediate family attended. Ryan made it from New Hampshire. He presented Maria with Dads flag. I thought that during "Taps" or the twenty one gun salute I would break down into a blubbering puddle of emotional goo but it never came to pass. The last time I remember hearing taps at a funeral was when my Dads father passed. I remember I hadn't felt a thing until "Taps" was played and the twenty one gun salute.

I had never met the man, my fathers father but once, for a few minutes. I had no emotional connection to him. But as soon as my young ears heard the report from the first volley I emotionally exploded. I remember walking hurriedly away from the service beside the burial site, eyes blurry with tears, gulping air between gut heaving sobs, and not having a clue as to why. I felt my father grab my shoulder from behind and draw me to his chest, tears in his eyes. It was then I knew why I was crying. Years of pent up sadness and yearning finally bubbling up from my soul and being let loose. I missed him, my father.

I miss him now.

I think maybe on that day I cried for today as well.

Still, the show must go on and so it will.

After the service I brought the wife home grabbed my gear and headed out to Wachusett Reservoir. As I walked my mind was at ease. On occasion I would speak to my father. No voices answered. No whispers in the wind. I didn't expect there to be any. After about forty five minutes of walking I reached my destination, or so I thought. I was disappointed. Logging had been done in the area and the scene I was looking for was not there. I kept walking and searching every once in a while asking Dad to show me something. Not a sign, or a miracle, but something to take a frikking picture of. I found a few things, nothing major. Finally I decided to head back.

I made my way to a point where the path splits and one circles around the hill to the east instead of climbing the hill next to the reservoir. I took the eastern path to see what there was to see. I kept side tracking other paths until I was in unfamiliar territory. I pushed ahead knowing that the power lines were on my left and the water to my right.

I took one trail that lead me to the top of a huge hill. I looked down and saw a stream and headed for it. On my way to it I ran into thorn bushes, cutting up my bare legs. I didn't care. I was in the woods, comfortable, alone with my thoughts and my camera. A little blood and pain to keep the head on planet Earth was part of the game. As I neared the stream, crashing through underbrush I saw something I did not expect. Two bucks. One was at least six points. The other was massive. At least 10 points. For an instant nothing happened. Both parties stunned that the two bucks didnt not notice a 270 + oaf crashing and cursing to within 30 feet of them.
(NOTE: I hope these two dopes get their crap together before hunting season or they are destined to be venison stew and hanging on someones wall in a month.)
After a second or two the smaller buck jumped the stream and headed up the hill on the other side. The big buck snorted once, and bounded after it. They both paused at the top of the hill, looking back, then moving out of sight.

I didn't have my camera ready, and to be honest I didn't care. It was a good moment not ruined trying to compose it through a lens. One for me and me alone I guess.

Hi Dad!

Was it him or sent by him? I don't know. But it made me think of him and smile.
Thats good enough.

Like my father-in-law said: "There wont be a day that goes by you wont think of him."

He's right.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Seven Hills Camera Club



For several years now I have wanted to join a camera club,Seven Hills Camera Club to be precise. Working nights prevented me from joining before tonight, but no longer.

I am officially a member as of an hour ago.

My first meeting happened to be competition night where members put up various images in various categories to be judged by a member of another camera club.

I like most of the images I saw. Some didn't work for me but I thought they still had merit and it was more of a personal preference. The judge was decent and pointed out the good along with ideas from improvement. Well done.

The members seem like a nice group of people. They seem dedicated to the art and craft of photography. I think I will learn much from these people. I hope I have something to offer back.

It seems the Ol' Gazer just took another step in his photographic journey.


Downtown Worcester Kodak UC 400. Slight adjustments in PhotoShop. (What are the chances of catching a lighter just as it lights? I haven't decided if I like it or not yet.)

Monday, October 17, 2005

Does it matter?

This shot should have never happened. It was a mistake of sorts. I basically wanted to photograph the man much sooner then he appears in this shot. I fumbled with the camera and got this at the last instant. It was nothing like I had envisioned. It turned out much better then it would have if I had managed to be a more competent photographer.

Which makes me wonder..........

How many of pictures we regard as masterpieces are really unintended mistakes?

Does it matter?

Kodak UC 400 Converted to Duotone Mono. Glow added.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Just when you thought a giant could not get any taller.

Last night I sent Joel Meyerowitz an e-mail to just tell him I appreciate his work and whenever I go into a photographic funk or just need to refresh my palette, I look through a book I was given of his a few years ago called Cape Light.


Some may not know who Joel Meyerowitz is. He is a photography icon. I would say almost everyone has seen and admired a Meyerowitz shot at least once in their lives. If I was to name the top 2 photographers who I try to use as a blueprint for my own style it would without a doubt be Meyerowitz and Abell. Photography at its bare bones best. Street and fine art fused together. Less is more.Simple is better.

Joel Meyerowitz's did all this while pioneering color photographys use not only in street photography, but photography in general. He basically is one of the principle reasons color photography is what it is today.

This morning when I got home from shooting and going to Rietta with my friend Tom I came home to find Mr. Meyerowitz had responded. Something I did not expect. A brief note in which he thanked me and shared a book that inspired him. He expressed sympathy for losing my father. It is also appearent he looked at this blog. Go figure.


Its a good day!

Thanks Joel.

P.S.
I usually attach one of my photos to my posts but not this one. That would be like putting a Night Train label on a fine expensive exclusive bottle of wine.

"Im not worthy!"

Saturday, October 15, 2005

The eulogy.

I was requested to save the eulogy I spoke for others to read. I thought that I would post it here for those who would like to read it for themselves as it was meant to be said. I get nervous in frontof crowds and start to skip through what is written subconsciously trying to get to the end so I can bury my head in a plant and hide.

My Fathers Eulogy

Good Morning.

Yesterday as my family and I sat down to dinner we took the time to open some of the wonderful cards of encouragement and sympathy that friends and family had left for us.

One card caught the eye of me and my brother John.

It asks the reader to consider this question;

Think of how birth must seem to a child. Passing from the only world it has known, the womb, to the great unkown world outside. Then it asks the reader to consider death and points out that it, death, is the same as birth.

In birth we transition from our comfortable existence in the womb into the loving arms of our mother and father.

In death we transition from our comfortable existence of the life we have lived here on earth into the loving arms of G-d.

For me that is all that has taken place with my father, Marvin Marion Henkins. He has not died. He has been born into the arms of G-d, that is all.

Here on earth we have created many measures upon which we measure men.

For some, it is a bank account.
For others, it is a statue.

For my father, it was his children and work.

Alone with my father he would tell me how proud he was of my siblings and I.

Often he would tell me how proud he was of Heather, Dan, Eric, and John. At work when he spoke to co-workers, he would beam with pride as he spoke of them.
Others here to honor him will tell you, Heather, Dan, Eric, and John the same.

The words may not have been said directly to you by him, but know they were said often beyond your ears.

Maria he adored. As he lay in bed at the hospice he would often speak of you. He loved you dearly, as the rest of us. Sometimes though I wonder if maybe, if it is possible, to love someone too much. But I think Dad managed too. You gave him three wonderful children known in family circles as " the boys".

When someone dies we often look for signs they leave us to tell us they are still with us and are O.K. We often will also take small tokens they leave behind to hold as memories.

I have my token, a coin.

I have my sign as well. My brothers and sister.

It is hard to look at you and not see Dad in you, or I for that matter.

Being the sons and daughter of Marvin Henkins, we have many qualities of him that people admired.

1)Stubbornness
2)Determination
3)Hard Working
4)Honesty

Yes, once a Henkins puts his mind to a task everyone knows it will get done.

Whether it be out of stubbornness, shear determination, or hard work, the task will be completed. It may get ugly, making others watching cringe, but it will get done.

As for honesty, we just are.
Ask a Henkins for an honest opinion, you will get it.

Don't ask a Henkins for an honest opinion, you still are going to get it.

For friends of my father, and those who worked with him, they all, every one of them, will mention how hard he worked.

In his toolbox I found pictures of the family in variuos stages of our lives. Also inside, buried under various papers and notes, were two pictures of him.

One was of him in the standard pose looking at the camera thinking "Are you done Yet"

The other was of him on a fork truck, taken from the side and behind, him driving away,the image blurred from motion.

Is there any doubt as to which shot Dad would have chosen to represent him?

In closing I would like to say thank you from my family and I for all the love and support all have offered us.

Whenever you see a cribbage board, hear a dart "thump" against a dart board, a horse shoe "clang" against its post, or a NASCAR race roar, think of him. But mostly whenever you see a person working hard, doing the best they can with the talents G-d gave them, think of him.

Marvin Marion Henkins

Proud husband.
Proud father.
Proud man.

Love you Dad.

Reflection


Today is the service for my father. I got up at 5:00am this morning to write the eulogy. I had started it last night. Twice the puter erased what I had started so I gave up and thought I would sleep on it. I am glad I did.

I was going to give it a third try on the puter but decided instead to write it directly into my journal. Now I will have those words to reflect on whenever I want. A good thing.

I basically started a few paragraphs, reread them, then decided to let it just flow and close the cover when I was done not to be opened or reread again until they are orated in the church.

Will they be worthy of the moment? I am not sure. I do know they will be heartfelt and meant as an honest reflection of my father and my family. And I will be content with that. It has been a long few days. The weather has not helped. 9 days of constant rain with the possibility of a let up today. John said it would be fitting. The mourning has passed and life begins anew.

Rain nor time will wash away the memories of my father. These last few months the lessoned passed from father to son have made me a better man. A stronger man. A happier man. A wiser man.

What more could a son ask of his father?

What more could a father give?

I now know without doubt I will see him again. I also know without a doubt when I join him he will embrace me, arms no longer weak and thin with sickness, but strong and long, wrapped around me warmly and with love thankfull I took what he gave me in parting.

As is my nature, as was my fathers, I may cry as I read before all at the church but know ye now those tears are not of sadness nor remorse. They will be salted with love, happiness, and a renewed understanding.

Love, the gift that never quits giving.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Fall



Ahhh.......The Fall.

It seems almost all the significant events in my life happen during this time of year. Usually good events. Even the recent events of this fall seem to fit in perfectly. Maybe it is how I will always remember my life on my final day. Running through the leaves as a child. Photographing them as an adult. The sound of them rustling and crunching between my feet as I walk through the years from childhood to adulthood.

Even in my mind I feel different. I feel more peacefull in the fall. Relaxed. Intune with the season. A part of it more then a player within it.

Here, during this time of year I wish, I wish I could always remain.



Kodak UC 400. Polarizer. Slight bump up of contrast in PhotoShop, nothing more.




Wednesday, October 12, 2005

My Shannon



Here she is in all her glory! My Shannon.

She is my rock.
The love of my life.
My friend.
My confidant.
My sounding board.
My teacher.
My shoulder to cry on.

She is my everything.

From our first date. (Well, I should say my first date. Long story, ask Tom.) I fell in love with My Shannon. It hit home one night when I was on my way to see her when she lived in Maine. It was an icy wet night in late November. I was making my way to Winthrop where she was living with her aunt Sherry. Ahead of me traffic is stopped leading down hill to a particularly nasty corner she traveled every day home from work. As I am sitting there waiting, staring at the flashing lights through sleet hitting my windshield, I notice a gnawing in the pit of my stomach. The more I sit and wait, the more agitated and nervous I am getting.

Carbon Monoxide poisoning you say? Nope. Something far more dangerous and deadly.....

It was love! In one sudden rush I go from agitated to frantic. I am praying to the Lord that it is not a green Rambler I see in a ditch ahead of me.

"No Lord! Please not her! Not now!"

As traffic slowly creeps forward I am constantly dipping to the left, trying to catch a glimpse of the scene ahead of me. After a few more dips to the right and almost side swiping a state trooper directing traffic I finally see the accident.....

To be honest, I cant remember really what the cause was. I just knew it wasn't her, and that was enough. A wave of relief washes over me. As soon as I am able I am speeding towards Sherry's house. As I turn into Sherry's drive way I notice the missing big green Rambler.

She has been somewhere behind me this whole time.

I take a seat on the couch, anxious. Now I am worried that I am already here and can not help her if something happens to her on the way home.

(I should take the time to explain I actually take medication for this. People who know me will be nodding their heads knowingly laughing to themselves, I am sure.)

Eventually I see lights sweep across the window and a low rumble of Shannons Rambler come to rest.
She is home.
She is safe.
She is the one I love.

I remember feeling all stupid and tingly as she walks in the door. I am trying to act cool, like "Oh. Your finally here. What are we doing for supper?". I will bet I am not pulling it off. I don't hide emotions well, even from myself.

I must have appeared like grinning idiot. Hell, I was a grinning idiot. The woman I knew I was going to wed someday was safe, and with me.

I still get frantic when she is late. I still grin like an idiot when I think of her. And I still love her now, if not more, then the day I found out I was totally in love with Shannon.

Happy anniversary my Shannon!

I love you.

Mike.

I know. We know.


One of the things I am finding hard to deal with in the passing of my father is how to respond to family and friends calling with condolences.

My usual response is "I know".

It is an awkward situation for both parties. One party trying to find the words to say of how truly sorry they are for me and my families loss, and the other, awkwardly trying to find the words of acceptance.

Those who me, my wife, and my family hold dear have always been there for us throughout this whole situation. Knowing that has been comforting enough. To actually hear the words, for me, almost seems to much. Odd I know, but I have no doubt where our family and friends hearts lay. It is the reason I call friends "friends"and why I consider them family also. Many of these very people knew my father. Some worked with him daily. Others knew him or of him from afar. In all cases they respected the man. My personal loss, my families loss, is their loss also.

Maybe by proportion me and my families portions of the "loss pie" are greater then the others but I have no doubt that the very people who call me to say "sorry" are suffering a slice of it also.

To you I say:
We are sorry for your loss as well.

Thank you for the love. Just wanted you to know its right back attya.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Marvin M. Henkins



This morning at 5:38AM, my father Marvin M. Henkins crossed from this world into the next. His family at his side he went peacefully, as he wanted.

I am proud of my father. A proud honest decent man. He may not have done it all right but at least he tried to do the best he could.

Hopefully I will take the lessons of his life, the good and the bad, and use them to direct my own. That is how I will choose to honor him.

Love you Dad.

Mikey.

P.S. Maybe finally he will take a break, relax, and quit worrying!

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Simplicity.....



Seeing how it did nothing but pour all day I spent a lot of time on the web building up links for this blog, trying to fix my NAVBAR, and cruising some photography galleries on line. On stop was Photo District News and its emerging photographer series.

I am no one of photographic note. A professional art critic I am not. But one thing struck me as I viewed these emerging photogs portfolios.

They all for the most part look the same. Pumped up contrasted odd hued colors, composition for the most part that seems to be someone working very hard to make the image appear to be a snap shot without actually taking a snap shot. Some of them are full of so many little interesting distractions that I really have no clue as to what the point or subject is. Is it a feeling they want? The colors are the subjects or there is no subject and that is the beauty of it? What am I missing?

What happened to subtle simple beauty well composed and presented?

Anyone? Anyone?

Bueller?

Bueller?


Photo: Kodak TCN 400. Duotone added in photoshop. Levels slightly adjsted.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Stroke

 

Kodak UC 400, Severely cropped and contrast added in PhotoShop.

At the feet of a dying man


Spent all morning and afternoon with my father. He is semi alert. He often asks questions about things he is dreaming as if they are real. He can barely move. His talk is mostly in whispers. Its tough to see but ya gotta deal with it. He is here for another day, which is all one can ask at this point. Really I have come to realize that we should be thankful for every day we are blessed with. I have wasted to many I feel. Each day needs to be cherished and every ounce of enjoyment wrung out of it.

That is what death is teaching me about life.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

As my fathers journey on this world comes to an end.....


The time is nearing when my father will complete this journey of life and begin his new one. A phone call from my sister tells me his condition is worsening and he is starting to fade. I most likely will go to his bedside tonight and remain as long as I can. Its my duty as a son, its my obligation as a friend.

I know no one reads this blog. That is fine. But if you happen to read this post say a prayer for my father, Marvin Marion Henkins. Pray for a safe painless comfortable transition into the next life.

Amazing how much death teaches us about life.........

Worcester, 6:53 AM



There I was. Main Street Worcester, 6:53 AM.

Why?

I have no freakin clue.

Kodak UC 400. Colors and perspective altered in Photo Shop.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Its not a dingy hat dear. Its a time capsule.



My favorite hat.

The wife has tried to get me to get rid of it but I just cant. She got it for me on our honeymoon and it has to many fond memories in each worn thread to be discarded. I am thinking of building it a little shrine but I think the wife would feel it a bit excessive.

Woman will never understand our attachments to old smelly loafers, thread bare flannel shirts, or dingy frayed ball caps. They become a part of us. Just like our scruffy beards, and beer bellies. They are urban battle scars. Each stain and tear is a moment in time with a story to tell.

" Oh that tear there?" Let me tell ya about that! Remember that night over at Dan's house? You know, the one with the 2 kegs and confiscated fireworks............"

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Since ya missed my birthday, this would make up for it.

OK. Ya missed my birthday and your wondering how you can make it up to me. Well, heres a hint.
Posted by Picasa

The hot air balloon and the skulls.



There I was driving home around 10 am last Saturday when I caught a brief glimpse of a hot air balloon floating towards Lake Quinsigamond from which I had just left. I yanked the jeep around and heading in the direction I thought I had saw the balloon.

I would get a glimpse of the balloon and change direction, only to find it pop up somewhere else. As I was flying by U Mass Hospital I almost slammed into a van that had just stopped in the middle of the road for no reason, so I thought. I was ready to lay on the horn and give the driver a 1 finger salute when I noticed the big rack in the back just inches from my bumper and the words "Maine Balloon excursions" on the side. They sped off and I followed them until they stopped beside the Fallon Clinic Building on Plantation. I got out and asked if they knew where their balloon may land and they replied that they think on the other side of Quinsig. So off I head.

I see the balloon dip behind a tree line, pop up, go out of view again. I am getting frustrated.........Then I see this lone single man skull (probably has a proper name, wouldn't know) gliding under the 290 Bridge heading torwards the sail club.

I yank the jeep around, again, and off I go to the sailing club. I get there a bit late for this guy but 2 more are heading my way. I snap a few of the lead skull. The fog is rising off the water nice, the light is kind bright but I turns out ok. As they get out of range a image I have seen pops into my head of a photograph of a skuller taken from above. So I pack up the bag and head to the Rte 9 bridge to get into position. Once there I realize I am going to have to wait a bit for them to head back my way. About 45 minutes later.....(a amount of time had I realized that I would have to wait would have sent me packing with the words of "screw it" on my lips) they return. I had to figure out about where they would pass under so I had to guess where to aim the camera initially. I got what I wanted. I thought this shot would be the best with the wake of the skull and the oar swirls trailing the skull outta the frame. A wall hanger no, but its a start to get a better one.

Aint Cappa or Bresson yet but working on it.

Monday, October 03, 2005



The Omphalos Gazer........

Found this under a bridge in Woosta. One of two shots. First I used flash which killed the shot making it too flat. Second was commando as I usually operate.
Kodak TCN 400.

My Dad, The Hospice, and the photograph.


My father is dying of cancer and congested heart failure. They seem to be racing to see which one will take him first. My first feel of the chilling touch of death in my immediate family. Many lessons being learned these days. Some are harsher then others. All are life changing.

The toughest part of it all is watching a man who all your life worked hard and never let anyone help him be reduced to laying in a bed, barely able to breath, needing help just to move up a few inches. He sleeps often, and the morphine is doing its job of dulling the pain. Unfortunately it also dulls the mind.

The toughest part for him I think after the initial realization that the only way he will leave this hospice is with a sheet pulled over his head I think is that he will miss my sisters wedding in November. He has set the goal of making it till then but I doubt he will.

Someday I will write more on the subject of my father, his illness and such this just is not the time. I am flamed out on it as one can imagine.

About the photograph above..........

At the Hospice (will talk later about that as well) I noticed families of the "residents" donated pictures, stereos, furniture and such after they had past. I was thinking of donating a photograph of mine to the hospice in my fathers honor. Those who have seen it found it fitting.
A little feedback would be appreciated by those who see it.