Kosti Ruohomaa, Night Train At Wiscasset Station and Dull Days and Dirth

Hi Dear Folk,

Welcome to all new folk who are following my blog, I do appreciate you stopping by and spending time here.  This will be my eleventh year of blogging and I obviously enjoy keeping on online journal of my life and do it for that reason.  If you enjoy my blog A Little Bit of British, do become a follower, and add me as one of the blogs in your blog list that you enjoy reading.  That would be great.

So here I am in today with a head cold.  Even had to break a luncheon appointment because I am not feeling up to it and I was looking forward to that.  I took one of those tablets that you drop in hot water with high doses of vitamin C to try and ward off what I knew was coming, hope it works somewhat.

With a lot of dull very soggy days we have a dirth of sunlight, the only brightness of light is when I light the fire in the afternoon which is as much for the ambience as the warmth, along with a few candles it does lift ones spirit.

Mr. B. watching the game, with Miss Tuppy.

I have been keeping up with my diary and my journal, also the fountain pens and the letter writing. Reading poetry and re-visiting some books that have sat on my shelf for a long while.  One is Night Train at Wiscasset Station.  It's mostly to showcase the photographs of a Maine photographer Kosti Ruohomaa.  Who was born in Maine to Finnish parents.  The writer is Lew Dietz who travelled along with him at times.  He said "As I see it I wrote the words and Kosti the music."  The forward is by Andrew Wyeth.

He caught a way of life from the forties and fifties in his black and white photographs.  This book was a library discard, but as soon as I saw the wonderful photography I knew it would join my collection.  He died young in his forties because he was an alcoholic.  His photographs were in several leading magazines of the time such as Life.  He travelled all over, but always returned to the family farm in Maine, his roots.

I love his photography he just catches a mood, wrinkles, warts and everything; which is how my son, the photographer tends to take photos of his mother.  No beautifully posed pictures, but the true gritty reality of old age, and when I object he says, "But that's a great photograph look at the light." and I say "Can't you just take a photo of me when I'm looking my best not all these down to earth shots." The ones that get filtered out and stay in the archives of your hard drive.

One time Rob posted a photo of me on his Facebook, my sister saw it and said "You should have him take that photo down, that's an awful picture of you."  My sister was right, it was, but it was reality.  Everything today is edited and airbrushed, so to view these wonderful photos of a Maine way of life that even at that time Kosti thought was slipping away, is delightful.

Here is a write up on his life in the Bangor Daily News Kosti Ruohomaa

I like Dietz's writing in this book of the Mainer's way of thinking, who these folk are "... they are inclined to pity those who never see snow."

Christine