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John L. Kerr
Reserved, Intrepid, Teachable, Selfish, Generous, Critical, Enthusiastic, Intuitive, Physical, Dilettante
Reserved, Intrepid, Teachable, Selfish, Generous, Critical, Enthusiastic, Intuitive, Physical, Dilettante
About
John L.'s posts

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5-15-15
Attention Site Seers, there's a new sub-site waiting for your first visit.
Let me know what you think of the new Collection, "Figments, Fragments and Fotos". After all, it was created with you in mind. Here's your formal invitation:
https://plus.google.com/+JohnLKerr/posts/2xY7B4w8Bgb
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2015-05-15
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The death of a blog gives birth to this Collection. For many of you who follow SaveImageAs, this page might be quite a surprise. I am mostly an invisible participant on SaveImageAs, primarily managing the site, adding links, posting music and generally keeping things looking clean. A custodian of your amazing creativity.
Only rarely do I display any of my own images.
My work is sprinkled across the web in a variety of formats and under multiple headings so it is difficult for me to direct people to any one of these sites if I want them to have a flavor of my past and present creations.
Hence, Figments Fragments and Fotos.
The lack of a comma and the colloquial spelling in the title ought to give you a hint of what's to come. My hope is to present what I am working on as an invitation to the dance. Informally. In a structured version of Free Form. Well-designed Casual. Appropriately and formally Informal.
What does all that mean? It means I want dance partners.
The dance of creative collaboration: The critique which contains an example, the remark with an attached video clip. It means No +1's unless they are accompanied by a link which illustrates the reason you are giving the +1 in the first place.
If you find yourself invited by me to join the site, I trust you will take the initiative to make things work. Your feedback about the site (versus the content on the site) is critical to developing the dialogue I am looking to have with other creative individuals.
I believed Nabokov when he said, "Everyone wants to have read, "War and Peace", but no one wants to read it." Our attention spans have atrophied, I fear. Mine has.
There is too much "out there" to hope for anything more than a fleeting glimpse of what is new and a trenchant loyalty to sites that keep up the pace. That having been said, my intent is that
this site should be pleasing to the eye and the intellect. This is my goal. It is a formidable challenge. But isn't it true to say, "Les grandes œuvres sont constituées de petites tâches."?                  
Yours will be the judgment of whether I reach my goals. 
And now, for some Figments Fragments and Fotos.
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In Memory of Johnny G.

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Johnny Girolamo  1954  -  2013
It is with a great deal of difficulty that I must inform you all of the death of one of the original members of SaveImageAs, Johnny Girolamo.  Johnny grew up and lived in Southern California. He was not the type of person to read obituaries or funeral notices so he probably would missed this piece about him.  I only met Johnny in 2009 and yet it seems we lived a lifetime together.
That could be because just knowing Johnny was an adventure in itself. "C'mon, we're going for a ride," he'd say. If you went with him, there was truly no telling where you might end up or what would happen when you got to wherever it was you were going.  If, from early sign of premature ageing, you declined his invitation, then your regret at not going was far greater than the risk attendant to any excursion with him.
Johnny and I faced a number of extraordinary challenges together. I have never met another person who officially declared a State of Friendship, or at least offered a treaty proposal of Friendship.  Johnny did. After meeting me through a mutual acquaintance, and spending a couple of evenings watching movies, he came to my door one day without our mutual friend, Joe  He looked concerned...  I let him in, worried that something had happened to Joe. He did not sit down. nor accept my offer of coffee. He just looked at me  and asked , "Would it be alright if we were friends?" . In my experience, people, particularly adults our age, find themselves acknowledging (to themselves, first, usually) that they are coming to like so and so a great deal.  This is usually as a result of time spent together, at work or on a common project--something that the two people have in common.  That was not the case with Johnny and I. We had only met 2 or 3 times at the behest of this mutual acquaintance. To Johnny, however,  a friendship meant a commitment strong enough that he felt the need to verbalize it. Although well read and quite capable of pronouncing a competent judgment on most current schools of writing, Johnny rarely gave his opinion on such matters.  He was not  shy as much as he was pensive.  Not withdrawn as much as watchful.  Because Life had dealt him such difficult issues to resolve at such an early age, he stayed in the shadows at time -  as if "joining in" presented risks he wasn't ready to take.
When he did join in however, his friendship was an awesome experience.  He knew my diagnosis was terminal before most others in my life and he never once treated me differently. He was unafraid to ask me about its progression. He offered to help me, sometimes before I knew I would need help. His support of my early efforts in photography, salted with enough skepticism  I would amount to anything, blossomed into the type of enthusiasm one can only wish for.  Johnny was always candid when it came to my films, "Too long." "Pretty images, but nothing happens." are 2 comments of his that come to mind about films of mine that were, amazingly, liked by almost everyone who saw them. He was not contrary by nature, in fact he often tried to fit in by helping others far past the point most of us, his family and friends, would have stopped.
As I write this, I am aware that Johnny knew more about me than any other person alive. It is a curious feeling to be outliving the people who first knew I had a terminal illness.  When a person feels known, as I felt with Johnny, then there isn't anything to hide. Yet we still did keep things from each other.  I think that is from habit, not necessity of the fear of being "found out".  It is a remarkable feeling to know that I could have told Johnny the most intimate, shameful and sordid facts about my life and that a) he would still be my friend and b) he would never tell another person, even one with which he was closer than he was to me.
He lived by his own code of ethics. When he broke one of his own rules of friendship, his sense of rightness cause him to confront the issue face on.  In my time of knowing Johnny, I saw him exploited for his generosity, ridiculed for his loyalty to people the rest of the world had discarded because of their dishonesty. He could often see what the rest of us couldn't: the human face on the person who had hurt us, stolen from us, lied to us. He didn't overlook or deny the transgressions and his anger with the offender was often difficult to witness, but his forgiveness was not conditional. He got over it and moved on.
All of his friends and family are now looking at the future--a future without our Johnny.  In my heart I know I'll "get over it" and I know already that to survive, I must move on, but I also know that it was at moments like this that Johnny would appear out of nowhere with his homemade fudge and say, "C'mon, we're going for a ride."  I find myself finishing these notes waiting, without even knowing I am waiting, for my friend to arrive and take me on another adventure.  Johnny's death is such a powerful reminder to me to tell the people in my life how much they mean to me as often as I can. And to demonstrate to them that they do have meaning in my life by how I treat them and how involved I am in their lives by my awareness of their needs and my celebration of their success.   I only wish you all had had the chance to meet him. You'd have loved his fudge.  John
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Having been to St. Sulpice in Paris, I can attest that it is not a venue for the faint of heart.  Of those chosen to play the immense organ, few would have the courage to improvise....on a Gregorian chant!. I met Mr. York recently and he relayed this amazing experience.  I thought you'd enjoy hearing a quite different type of "riff". John
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