Robert L. Peters

21 November 2015

There is no pillow so soft as a clear conscience.

— French proverb


13 November 2015

Peace for Paris…

Jean_Jullien_13.11.15

Jean Jullien’s instant iconic response…


18 July 2015

R.I.P… Walter Richter

Walter_Richter_1935-2015

Winnipeg, Canada

It’s been a difficult week — three days ago, Ev’s father Walter Richter passed into the next realm. The obituary (below) was penned by Ev’s two daughters, Jen and Nicki.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

WALTER RICHTER

3 June 1935 – 15 July 2015

Eighty years ago in Bremen, Germany, Max Walter Richter opened his sparkly eyes to become Max and Charlotte Richter’s first-born son. At age 20, he married the love of his life, Elfriede, and they completed their family with the birth of their cherished daughter Evelin (Robert). In 1957, Opa got off the train in Winnipeg while en route to Vancouver, concerned that the weather seemed to get colder and colder the farther west he traveled. Thank goodness for that, he always said, because it was here that his granddaughters Jennifer (Derek) and Nicki (Jayson) were born. Opa and Oma bought their first house on Sark Crescent in 1966. We had so many good times there hearing him singing his silly German songs with his cousins Heinz (Christa) and Fritz (Anne) and, later, with the great grandkids playing with Opa’s train set. Opa and his brother Kurt (Erna) started their woodworking business, Richter’s Woodcraft, in 1984. A skilled cabinetmaker, Opa lovingly crafted our beds, tables, desks, shelves, toys and treehouses. Most impressive, in the 1960s he built our cottage at Hillside Beach by hand. So many good memories were made at Hillside Beach with Opi and Omi, Kurt’s family, the cousins and nieces and nephews. Retiring at age 61, Opa had all his time for his family. Whether travelling to Banff, Hawaii, and Germany, or to Tim Horton’s for coffee and chili, Opa and Oma were rarely seen apart. Opa was so proud of his Evi – he loved going to Winnipeg Beach to pop into her studio to see what she was creating, going to her art shows, and puttering around her yard. He was always there to take Jayden and Sam to Tinkertown and on the Prairie Dog, Haylee to her dance classes, and to joke around with his Maxi-million and Maci. Opa was a kid at heart; he was always getting us in trouble with Oma. Leading us in games of “jumping off the fence into Oma’s snow-covered hedges,” “flipping the kids in the hammock,” “jumping off the boat with our umbrellas,” “treehouse ziplining”… Opa spent his last 24 hours surrounded by his loved ones. For the last time, we marveled at the strength of his heart, we played that game where we count how long he can hold his breath, and we held the hands that had so lovingly built our homes. Ach-ja, Opa. Sleep well. Love Jenny and Nicki.

As published in the Winnipeg Free Press on July 18, 2015

 


15 June 2015

Reading can seriously damage your ignorance.

(You’ve been warned).


12 April 2015

Mountains should be climbed with as little effort as possible and without desire. The reality of your own nature should determine the speed. If you become restless, speed up. If you become winded, slow down. You climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion.

― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values


10 April 2015

It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top.

― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values


9 April 2015

For every fact there is an infinity of hypotheses.

― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values


8 April 2015

We live in stories…

We_live_in_stories,

We_live_in_stories...

We_live_in_stories,

Winnipeg, Canada

We live in stories… is Ev’s latest piece. It incorporates impressions of wood letterpress type from my collection. As of yesterday this sculptural piece is on exhibit at the Pulse Gallery (The Forks, Winnipeg). This hand-built kiln-fired clay figure is partially glazed, along with oxide stains and cold finishes, on a stained wooden base (old-growth fir).


7 April 2015

Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed. Everything else is public relations.

George Orwell (1903-1950)


6 April 2015

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Kahlil Gibran (1183-1931)


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