the Frank Peters Show

Maybe we are all actors with or without masks,

For some a vocation, for others an outlet from a task,

It matters not whether the day is Halloween,

Or in costumes our faces are painted red or green,

Too often the job or vocation defines and sets one’s perceived role,

For too many the paycheck or the start-up consumes one’s soul.

Making payroll, deadlines, products or services leaves no time to dwell,

On retirement or on sale, too often the outside smile, the inside shell.

In a start-up world the binary code rules,
the binary code is king, the arts mere serfs,

Never ending struggle for cash, never ending struggle
to expand or protect one’s turf.

What a surprise, what an unparalleled exciting treat,

To find a man in an Excel World whose artistic heart continues to beat.

Anyone can read a business plan or spreadsheet or take a man’s measure,

But to capture the grace of human movement has to be a great treasure.

You can X-ray, MRI, and cat scan a human until blue in the face,

But the human soul and spirit remain deeply hidden in recessed space,

Who would think that a man bending projections to the bottom line,

Could with but a mere camera freeze the human soul and spirit in eternal time.

From the lying in wait, to the running chase, to the jump over rock and creek,

The hunter’s moves evolved into the ballet of a graceful dance,
climbing the spirit’s peak

With a camera all manner of emotion that makes us truly unique,
Captured by a man whose mask is only a bottom line to seek

A beacon to those of us with 40 hour days and restless nights,

The artistic spirit can still thrive even if on the surface completely out of sight.

Michael P. Ridley
Copyright June 29, 2007