David Baldinger - Cartoonist & Photographer

This Fourth of July holiday stirred memories of this same day ‌forty-eight years ago. That day was the big US celebration of the Bicentennial--200 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I was fifteen years old. My memory of the 1976 Fourth of July was that of a quiet, boring day in the country. Once again, Dad was hiding out in Pittsburgh leaving Mom and me to ourselves. We lived in a new mobile home that was parked on an isolated eight acres of former orchards between Delmont and New Alexandria, Pa. The orchards had long ago run wild. Only a few peach trees remained but red apples and yellow apples were everywhere. There is nothing like the absolute joy of climbing a tree, sitting in the branches and plucking a ripe apple to eat. I remember the day as hot and sunny. While records show the temperature during the day was around 75 degrees Fahrenheit and the skies cloudy, my memory could be faulty but I remember the sun beating down on me from blue skies while I gril...

  The Man Who Planted Trees by Frédéric Back (1987)

 Mamma rabbit returned to her favorite spot near the corner of my hedgerow. I gave her some old carrot bits. Her babies are all grown now. She is alone.

 

    A lonely gate stands in an unmowed field atop a small knob of a hill; its fence had long ago fallen victim to the brambles. I discovered this gate one warm summer evening on my daily walk through the country. I became intrigued by the simple beauty of its rough-hewn character, probably carved by a farmer a hundred years ago. The wood slats that made up the gate had faint Celtic carvings running their entire length. The wood had aged to a dull grey and was splintering on the edges. The closed gate compels me to open it. There is a sense of longing that draws me closer, and I follow, even with this out-of-place gate that has neither a closed side nor an open side. It stands freely, alone between its posts. I must see if there is a path on the other side. There is always a path on the other side. The path might be well-worn, or it is overgrown. But there is a path… always. Someone or something to follow creates a trail. Follow it, I will. There is one thing that must be do...

  I am very saddened to learn of the passing of one of the greatest artists in the world of the cartoon art form. Mr. Kambiz Derambakhsh of Iran has succumbed to the savage course of Covid-19 at 79. The world has lost a master of the cartooning art. His drawings were precise, wordless and sublime. His delicate use of color only enhanced his beautiful line work. Damn this Covid!       From the Tehran Times: Cartoonist Kambiz Derambakhsh dies from COVID-19 "Born in Shiraz, Derambakhsh began his professional career by drawing cartoons for Tofiq, Iran’s most popular satirical magazine before the Islamic revolution, when he was only 14. Known for his talent to find obscure themes for his creations, Derambakhsh, worked as a cartoonist, a graphic designer, and an illustrator for over 60 years. Showcases of his cartoons in over 50 solo and 100 group exhibits in Iran and across the world and his cosmopolitan outlook on life in his artworks earned him international recognitio...