An Excerpt

Turbulent water on the Colorado river in the Grand Canyon

A brief one-paragraph excerpt from my forthcoming book titled Stay In The Magic about an extraordinary experience in the Grand Canyon on an 18-day rafting trip:

Did you truly see what was there? Did you hear what wasn’t? Will you carry nothing of everything that was or everything of what might have been? If it doesn’t fit in your eyes, let it enter through your ears, and when your ears can hear no more, it is time to take a deep breath with lungs full, open your mouth, and taste the experience with the flavor of life passing over your lips some will surely spill away, grab for it and stuff what you can in your pockets, and as you become weighted down and laden with this wealth, allow it to enter your mind until it too is satiated. Upon overwhelming your thoughts, the imagination will become impregnated, leading to a birth of awareness in your heart that your soul will nourish, leaving you the recipient of the magic of life.

Art and Influence

John Wise in front of the Ensor House and Museum in Oostende, Belgium

One of Caroline and my first trips together was to the Belgian coast, a place I often thought I would like to live. In the small town of Oostende, I brought Caroline to the James Ensor House and Museum. I had been here once before and now wish I might once more have the opportunity to visit again someday. The dearth of interesting museums dedicated to the work of evocative artists here in America leaves a lot to be desired. For example, we visited the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and it’s just a big old office building commandeered as a drab resting place for some of his work.

Caroline at the enterance of the Paul Delvaux Museum in Koksijde, Belgium

The next stop on this trip was my third visit to the Paul Delvaux Museum. Along with Otto Dix and Francis Bacon, Delvaux was one of my favorite artists. On my first visit, a visitor who was also enamored with the work of one of Belgium’s greatest artists told me that the man himself had been at the museum just the day before. He described the most piercing blue eyes and fragile, lithe fingers that impressed this visitor with the idea that those hands had created such beautiful works of art. This stranger was back for a second visit with the hopes that Delvaux might make another appearance. Delvaux was already 90 back then on my first visit; he would live another seven years before passing on in 1994.

Zeebrugge, Belgium

John Wise and Caroline Engelhardt on the North Sea at Zeebrugge, Belgium

From that old black and white film we had developed, these photos of Caroline and I were taken while walking along the North Sea in Zeebrugge, Belgium – a favorite place of mine in winter. During the summers on the coast of Belgium, the crowds are heavy, the cafes full. But in the winter, the beach is empty, cold, and windy. The cafes that stay open year-round are mostly empty at this time. Black and white photography accurately captures the wintery gray feeling while strolling next to the dark black sea.

John Wise

John Wise in Frankfurt, Germany 1989

John Wise is pictured here. Yep, that’s me. The beard was thin back in 1989. I had just recently fallen in love with and subsequently moved in with Caroline Engelhardt. We would hang out in Europe, living a decadent, bohemian life, enjoying the nightlife, music, art, culture, and depravity that two young outsiders were enthusiastically embracing. We read too much, were enamored with a rich sub-culture, and were a bit unconventional – but as much as many of our acquaintances. Maybe we were just lazy and delusional; it’s hard to tell when living in a blur.

Caroline Engelhardt

Caroline Engelhardt in her bathtub having a cigarette. Frankfurt, Germany 1989

Recently, we decided to take over a dozen old point-and-shoot film cameras that we no longer had any idea what might be on them. We had considered dumping them, figuring that at over a dozen years old, and some may be more than 20 years since photos were put onto their film, what could possibly come out of them besides an expensive bill? Well, there were a few priceless photos of Caroline and me. Including this one taken in what was likely 1989. Caroline long ago quit smoking; the same can’t be said about bathing.

Our apartment back then was on Gluckstrasse 8 in Frankfurt, Germany. For the six years we lived together there, we never had heating. The landlord wanted to split the cost, and we didn’t want to afford it; that’s technically illegal as we were renters, and as such, we are not supposed to pay for things we cannot take when we move. Our bathtub was not part of the bathroom; it was in what would qualify as a doorless closet that was part of the living room. The toilet was in the hallway, while the tub had a great view of the TV, nice for watching a movie. Back then, if we were watching a movie, it was something along the lines of Desperate Living by John Waters – we could relate.

Going North With Jessica

Fountain Hills, Arizona

A dozen years between the events of this day and the moment I’m sitting down in an attempt to blog about it is stretching my ability to make things up. It’s June 2023, and I’m seriously at a loss to fill in the details here, but all the same, I want the photos and the date my daughter and I were traveling to join the rest of my posts. Familiarity with locations will help somewhat, such as this being an overlook in Fountain Hills looking to the south over Tempe and Mesa.

Near Fountain Hills, Arizona

From the photo that follows, I can guess that we are somewhere near Fort McDowell; other than that, I’ve got nothing.

Near Fort McDowell, Arizona overlooking Arizona Route 87

Of interest here is Arizona Route 87 was being expanded and is under construction on the left. What vantage point I took this photo from is a mystery to me.

Sycamore Creek near Fort McDowell, Arizona on Arizona Route 87

I want to say this is Sycamore Creek, but I could be wrong.

Arizona Route 87

As the title of the post states, Jessica and I are going north, and while I know the destination as I’ve already prepped all the photos, other than her seeing something firsthand, I can’t say there was any other purpose to our drive.

Somewhere on Arizona Route 87

Spring is in the air, but of course it is; it’s the end of March.

Somewhere near Payson, Arizona

Which also means that winter is lingering.

Somewhere near Payson, Arizona

I’d recognize these pine trees on the Mogollon Rim somewhere near Payson any day.

Jessica Aldridge licking snow on the Mogollon Rim in Arizona

As she rolled up this snowball, I hoped she hadn’t collected any yellow bits before sticking her tongue out to lick the thing.

Heading north in Arizona

I think I know where we are.

Somewhere near Sedona in Arizona

This can only be heading into Sedona, which means we are taking the scenic route north of here; why I didn’t shoot any photos of Oak Creek Canyon is yet another mystery regarding this outing.

Flagstaff, Arizona in the distance

This is not the only time I’ve shot this photo from the John Wesley Powell offramp south of Flagstaff.

Jessica Aldrige at OARS in Flagstaff, Arizona

So, here we are at the OARS warehouse. OARS is the company that took Caroline and me down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon last year. The likely reason for us to come up here is that I was knee-deep writing my book about our experience, and I didn’t need much excuse at all to pay a visit and commune with a dory (pictured behind Jessica). Following this scenic, circuitous journey for my pilgrimage, we would have headed home down the freeway as this was the end of photos for the day.