Fast Forward. Rewind. Over the last several years, through easy times that turned difficult, and difficult times that turned easy, one of my go-to spaces was to the photography of Mike Durbin, Brown School Class of 2002. I always loved Mike, as he was a kind, focused, original young man, and when I reflect on my time as his teacher, I knew him as a good soul, but never as a photographer. I know many people have tripped over and beyond Facebook, but for me it remains a tremendous space to keep up and network, even as worlds get ugly, excessive and/or unbelievable. Over the years, Michael Durbin has been a healer, of sorts. I know he, like all of us moving through adult spaces, has had challenges, triumphs, and defeat, but his panacea, photography, has also been a cure for him. It has been acute for many others, too, like me. He often posts his photographs on Facebook and I've been mesmerized. Both he and writer Ralph Fletcher have become heroes to me in terms of nature photography. I find myself coming home from a day of work and insanity, thinking one way or another about the world, and simply seeing a photo either one of these two post online makes me stop, "Well, Crandall. This is what matters most. Look around. Look around. How lucky we are to be alive right now."
This is also to note that when Michael Durbin, photographer, announced that he was going to offer some of his work as a calendar, I had to order right away. Sadly, the company that prints his work hasn't sent me my pre-holiday order and, alas/wola!, yesterday, I received two copies from Michael, himself. What a man!
As a mid-life fart unable to predict the future or the way lives move ahead, backwards, sideways, etc, I am always amazed by what students-of-yesteryear are able to accomplish in their adult lives, and grow extra proud to see the work of accomplished students like Mike Durbin. I keep thinking about whether I knew he was into photography as a high school student (if so, thank you Christie/thank you, Alice, as I know they were always engrossed in the art form). It doesn't matter, because he's sharing the outdoor world today. And I love it.
I think what I also cherish about Michael's adult work is that he captures with a lens what I value about the world: snapshots of birds, flowers, water, land, nature as it is.
Exquisit.
I cannot be more thankful or proud. And for those of you who know Chitunga, don't tell him, but this calendar is going to him for his apartment. Best yet is that February, my month, is the Bald Eagle. I will let him wrestle with that coincidence. I am also happy to say, too, that his month features another Bald Eagle - November.
But I have a question for the artist: Where are the Frogs?