Deer Creek Eddy

2010-05-30T16:58:00.002-04:00

Memorial Day 2010 --- I miss my father..... My dad's silver star ceremony photo and article

rainstorm on the tailwater

2010-04-22T17:54:00.003-04:00

My son Bryan and I on the Beaver Tailwater in Arkansas... in one scary lightning and thunderstorm.. we had stopped to hide under a rock ledge... when Bryan suggested where we were sitting was more dangerous than the storm if the ledge fell on top of us... which made me a bit paranoid about being crushed by tons of rock.... so we hightailed it out of there, in spite of all the lightning... what a day... Bryan recently posted on my facebook page this memory ... he is in the Middle East right now.... so hopefully he'll have a chance to get on line and see this video ...

Mayfly Dance

2009-11-06T20:05:00.005-05:00

My son Bryan this summer ....

Remembering the hatch....

Simulacra and simulacrum... what is real? the virtual... the simulation.... hyperreal- a copy so powerful it replaces the original.... my memories become the powerful copy of the real..... flyfishing is stuck inside it's own language....

Beer Can

2009-05-14T03:02:00.006-04:00

Objects have the unique ability through memory and association to become a kind of time machine. One of the most memorable objects of my childhood was a beer can. I found it hidden under the stones in a creek that flowed near the trailer court where we were living at the time. The stream flowed through a tiny patch of wild that was holding desperately onto the edges of the altered landscape surrounding it. Our trailer court was right across the street from the town dump. We didn’t live there long enough for me to discover where the water in our creek came from or went to… I wonder now what kind of stuff was lurking in its water? Whatever… it was clean enough to harbor all sorts of creatures, crayfish, minnows and water insects. It was my favorite place. The creek was down a dirt lane between the rows of trailers. Across a wire fence, through some trees, a few jumps down the hill, a run through the grass, some hops over the rocks. The narrow, ankle deep rivulet bubbled along over pebbles and stones. Most of the kids and all the adults ignored the little stream. It was the most perfect thing I knew. There was a an occasional disruption, a neighborhood dog sniffing around or another inquisitive kid. There were animals that lived in the holes along the banks. Birds loved the stream too. It was an alien world I could immerse my body and mind into, escaping all the junk around me. I’d take off my shoes and socks and roll up my pant legs before I’d step into the chilly water. Thinking back now, part of it’s allure and power was how it transformed me. I became Gulliver in the land of Lilliputians. I had at least a little control over this world. Searching under rocks for crayfish or pollywogs and minnows. I lived a very different life there than in the trailer park a few hundred feet away. The stream was a companion and friend, my first totem.

There was a patch of woods on the far side of the stream. It belonged to the older kids from the park. I’d spy the older boys and girls sneaking into and out of the woods. They’d hold each other in funny ways and I could tell they were doing some things they probably shouldn’t. When they’d creep back home along the woods edges the boys would elbow and push each other and laugh like you did when you were making fun of somebody and the girls always walked ahead of them like they were in a big hurry. I watched my older brothers friend George makeout with a girl there once. It didn’t look like much fun.

The day I discovered the beer can I was lifting up rocks, looking for crayfish. I found the unopened can wedged between stones hidden in the current. Whoever had put it there had blown it, this can was mine now! The kids in the trailer park lived by an unwritten law, finders keepers losers weepers.

This discovery became one of my first “Eden experiences.” I came from a family of strict prohibitionist and I was also only eight years old. A good portion of that eight years I’d spent on my butt, sitting in a church pew, hearing about how bad the stuff in this can was for my soul. This stuff was a ticket straight to hell. I couldn’t believe my luck! There were no poptop cans in 1959 or I would have orened it and taken a swig right then. I needed a can opener! Going to a friends house was out of the question. I’d already learned none of my friends could be trusted with a secret , especially one as big as this. The last thing I needed was one of the big kids beating me up for stealing their beer. I was going to have to sneak it home. Which met I was going to have to get it past my big sister Kathy. Kathy was thirteen years old and took care of me after school until our parents got home from work. She accomplished this job with a combination of indifference and eagle eye attention that left me a little paranoid and always watching over my shoulder. I was going to have to appeal to her curious side and tempt her with this forbidden drink. It was my only chance. What would she do? What could she do? She wouldn’t go near the creek and if mom found out she let me go there alone she’d be in big trouble. She’d either help me or confiscate it. I was convinced Kathy could read my mind, she could always tell when I was up to something even before I knew I was up to something. To my eight year old mind she was a kind of grown-up so I was shocked how easy she gave in to this conspiracy. Kathy found the can opener and opened the can, she took the first swig and then handed it to me. I was in awe and amazed, there was more to my big sis than I knew! I’d smelled this stuff before, on street corners downtown and on the breath of a man that showed up in church occasionally. Whoaaamundo… it tasted worse than it smelled. We only drank one sip each, threw the rest away and hid the can… I spent the rest of the day waiting to Satan show up and escort me directly to hell.

I think mom may have been in her seventies before she found out this story. It was one of those holiday times, when we were all together, and it isn’t long before somebody starts telling old stories. The years had turned us into “grownups” but this kind of moment turns you back into kids. The nostalgia of these moments acts like a truth serum and the story of a “forbidden beer” finally came out. My mother just laughed and told us all a similar childhood secret of her own.

As I wander the streams around my home in search of fish, sticks and stones. I occasionally find an empty beer can someone has tossed. For a moment I am an eight year old boy again, filled with a yearning to know what I do not know and a willingness to have secrets I’m beholding to.

Fishing Totems

2009-05-13T08:04:00.009-04:00

These are edited photos, part of a series I'm working on of favorite fishing spots near my home. The definition of a Totem: some thing that wants to be our friend, guide or companion. If that is true?... then this stream is a totem for me... something I desperately need... and lately, need even more.

The stones in this totem I found in this section of the river. Turning them into these huge boulders is a way of rendering them in a visibly obtrusive, yet sublime way. It is also a reference to what is possible, impossible, or improbable. The scale deception changes the viewers perception of these stones in unexpected ways. Rendering these small stones in this gigantic scale and placing them back where they came from or “giving them back” opens up the possibility of new questions. Just how important are these stones along the rivers edge? Are these pieces of what were larger stones? Where did they come from? These balanced stones are a enigma... simultaneous precarious permanence.... the question, “How long can this last” always remains.

My Painting on the Cover of Grays Sporting Journal

2009-05-03T02:10:00.002-04:00

I hope you already subscribe to Grays Sporting Journal

They chose my painting for the front cover of the April (Annual Fly Fishing) issue

pick up a copy or subscribe if your not all already. I also have a

painting inside this issue I hope you'll look for. Wayne Knight is the Art Director for Grays and does a magnificent job designing this Journal. It is a visual delight! I'm always amazed how he makes the art look so beautiful with his layout and composition. I think he is the best art director out there. Grays also publishes the best sporting writing available. They have been the # 1 Sporting Journal for thirty years and it is always an honor fro me when they select one of my paintings to publish.

2009-01-16T20:53:00.004-05:00

Photos from a day on the stream this past July... it is -10 degrees here today.... right after I took this photo the fish did a tail flip off the rocks into water... I watched it swim away hoping the guys that keep every smallmouth they catch would not find her hideaway.

These stick ups weren't far away from the place I caught the fish... They reminded me of my days tight lining bait on the stream banks of my youth.... My dad would get home from work and off we'd go to the river. I'll never forget the wiggle in the tip of the rod when a fish would start to bite... I never got over it and it's part of the reason I still fish.... but this day the sticks were more ominous... a reminder of silent intentions....we always kept what we caught back then.... and I knew the fisherman who put these fishing sticks here did as well.

A big carp on a fly.... just pure fun...
The circle of life.....

design a fly, a cast, a stalk, fly line , a reel

2008-12-24T15:48:00.006-05:00

Words fall from the page ... midges fall to the surface and a trout rises above my heart.

I need to know more.... about everything....

fishing with my son Bryan

2008-12-23T17:02:00.004-05:00

Bryan home from Iraq... our first fishing trip in a long time.... no words can express my thoughts or feelings. the only thing that would have made it better is to have my other son Barry with us.

John Voelker

2008-09-06T17:59:00.004-04:00

This is the invitation to the 50 th anniversary of the publication of John Voekers " Anatomy of a Murder. It features the portrait of John I was commissioned to paint for the State of Michigan by the Voelker Foundation.

Deep Woods Press

2008-09-04T01:12:00.003-04:00

Deep Wood Press..... my kind of books ... scroll through some of the titles

Giants

2008-09-04T00:47:00.004-04:00

I've dreamed of a giant brown trout that feeds fussy and steady in Deer Creek... a fish that lives in a alien world ... where imaginary giants cast rods as tall as a giant oak to a rise as large as the front lawn. Check out this land of Giants and imagination... a marionette or more?

I want this guy to design flyfishing stuff

2008-08-26T17:09:00.004-04:00

I wonder what Da Vinci would have come up with if he had been a fly fisherman?.... Theo might know.....

Theo Jansen.... can you imagine? I'd love to fish with a fly rod and reel designed by this guy. His website has even more information on his creations.

True Films

2008-08-24T16:24:00.011-04:00

Gotham Fish Tales .... stories about how and where New Yorkers fish....

Trout Grass is a documentary about making and fishing bamboo .... the best part of this is the filming on location in China. Seeing how the tonkin cane is gathered and prepared opens up new revelation for every bamboo rod you touch.

Rivers and Tides , a documentary about Andy Goldsworthy is art about art. Ephemeral and provocative, Goldsworthys work is timeless. Much of his work is created near , in or of water. I never tire of the mystery found in waters and this DVD will open your eyes to more of the invisible but eternal beauty that surrounds us yet eludes us.

Paul Mclean exlpains to his brother Norman in "The River runs Through It" the essence of this notion... " First you see something noticeable, then you see something less noticeable and finally you see something invisible."

The Fine Art of Angling, Ten Modern Masters

2008-08-20T20:07:00.009-04:00

If you haven't seen this book on my website, I hope you'll check it out. DiLes Pubishing and Diane Inman created a beautiful book. I'm one of the artist featured and the paintings they chose for the book are some of my favorites... some photos of the collector edition here... Fly Fishing Journal.

I have some copies available and would be glad to personalize them for you if you want one. You can contact me at Rod Crossman.

Music for the Road and the Fishing Trip...

2008-08-19T19:57:00.032-04:00

Roll down the window and turn up the Allman Brothers. In Memory of Elizabeth Reed helps those hours on the road seem shorter. Most of our fishing around here means a road trip. Jimbo and I always listened to Gordon Lightfoot when we were on our way to a fishing destination. Habit or superstition , it seemed to bring us good luck. Here's some other music to tick away the miles.

Jeffery Foucault is moody and little dark but perfect for hours on the road before dawn. Miles From Lightning keeps the sun out of your eyes.

David Wilcox .... one of my favorite singer song writers.... his music and poetry are right on in Perfect Storm

Pierce Pettis is another great singer songwriter... Alabama 1959 and Love Will Find You Again are so beautifully written and played.

Peter Mayer sings my favorite version of my favorite song..... you need itunes to go here Moon River

The Silent Fool by Eric Mongrain is instrumental genius like rain in the river.... art that takes you where you haven't been before

Handmade books and" Listening to the River"

2008-08-16T22:39:00.007-04:00

Stone Street Press is where Malachi McCormick crafts handmade books. I just ordered " Listening to the River" from him , sounds like a book I needed. A family memoir about a young boy and a Father with a passion for dry fly fishing and for words.

More on Nets

2008-08-16T21:45:00.011-04:00

When I was a kid, our fishing net was aluminum with a moss green cotton bag, the kind you buy from the local Hardware. We landed a lot of fish from Otter Lake with that thing. It was a reliable companion, full of memories and always willing to go fishing no matter the weather.

The bag on the net bellow is injection molded PVC , there is some thinking that the rubber type bags are easier on fish. I don't know for sure but they seem practical and easy to use. Wachter nets use beautiful woods and the latest technology in their design.

Fishnat produce a line of nets with all rubber bags that look good. They claim that it is a better bag for catch and release.

Landing Net Art

2008-08-15T14:56:00.011-04:00

Hand crafted wooden landing nets are a visual delight, check out Sams workmanship on Nets that Honor Fish.

Skipping Stones

2008-08-13T18:06:00.012-04:00

I take a break to skip stones every now and then while I'm fishing.... it's a way to connect all the days, months and years of my life together. My all time record number of skips?.... I think it's somewhere around 19. It was my dad who taught me how to skip a rock. I remember the awe and the magic I felt when he danced that rock on the waters surface. It was another of those gifts he left with me that only after all these years I'm beginning to understand. Skipping stones has helped me find a collection of unique rocks or fossils that I store on shelves along side my favorite books. Each one attached to a memory of the river.

Classic Angling Magazine with my painting on the cover.

2008-08-10T00:10:00.007-04:00

Classic Angling Magazine featured my painting " Wish upon a Star" on the cover of the most recent issue. Published in the U.K and a great read... it also has an article on fishing in Mongolia which has always been a dream of mine.

What I see ...not what I think I see....

2008-08-09T09:44:00.005-04:00

This is a painting I finished awhile back... it is already sold. I'm interested in that moment of vision , memory and imagination that collide when you see something beautiful. What a miracle water is. It's another of those things I'm trying to understand. It's really what this painting is about.

The Art of Fly Reel Design

2008-08-08T08:21:00.015-04:00

Fly Reels that are innovative, beautiful, and functional with an emphasis on new ideas and technology.

Dormisch - Absi R2

Astrid

Ari T Hart design , I keep bidding for his reels on ebay .... never won an auction yet.

Swiss Tackle....

Aesthetics and Function....

Psaros Reel..

Technology meets Art and Design.....

Marco Reel.... form and function create fly reel design that is beautiful....

A perfect reel for fishing the trico hatch

Trico Take

2008-08-07T21:27:00.005-04:00

One of my latest trout paintings... it's already sold but I thought you might like to see it. I love fishing during the trico hatch. One of the most tiny and ephemeral of all mayflies.. hatching, molting, mating , laying eggs and dying in just a couple of hours. A summer time hatch that can turn a trip to the stream into a one of those perfect moments we are all in search of.

Gates of Paradise

2008-08-07T20:49:00.009-04:00

This photo is the first of four sculptured panels I've created for the doors in a fly fishing cabinet I'm working on. they are cold cast bronze but can also be cast in resin. I have been in awe of "Lorenzo Ghiberti's Doors" also known as the "Gates of Paradise" for a long, long time. I guess these are my idea of the fisherman's version. I'm expecting a lot of trout streams and dry fly fishing in Heaven.

G.E.M Skues wrote about his idea of " Fishing in the Hereafter" in a short story that will captivate you.... you can find it in the Armchair Angler. A anthology of provocative fishing short stories.

Three Good Books

2008-08-06T19:08:00.009-04:00

Read the water, read the rise, read the wind, and then read these books.....

"Rivers Course through my dreams, rivers cold and fast. rivers known and rivers nameless, rivers that seem like ribbons of blue water twisting through wide valleys, narrow rivers folded in layers of darkening shadow, rivers that eroded down deep in a mountain belly, sculpted the land, peeled back the planet's history exposing the texture of time itself." - Harry Middleton , Rivers of Memory

" The Earth is Enough " by Harry Middleton

" Under Cottonwoods" by Stephen Grace

"The Run to Gitche Gumee" by Robert F. Jones

Fly Fishing Lamp

2008-08-06T12:36:00.010-04:00

Photos of the Fly fishing Lamp I designed.....

  close-up
close up, the base is hickory and river rocks....
   the trout are all Brookies , the plexiglass is 1/4 inch thick and i used a dremmel tool to deeply carve the image so it has a three dimensional look.

.... I designed and etched the pexiglass by hand ... The furniture company I work with , Old Hickory, designed the base for it... The first photo shows two Old Hickory chairs and end table... the chairs have images my paintings applied to the leather backs.

A Smile

2008-08-04T19:37:00.019-04:00

What's in a smile? .... I love Tony Bennett's version of " Smile ." I'm trying to smile more, even when I don't feel like it... One thing about my friendship with Paul( photo below)... he could always make me smile... something only really good friends can do , what a gift ... A smile, it's such a simple thing, yet simple things are not easy to understand. Mother Teresa put it this way, " Peace begins with a smile."

A Charlie Chaplin youtube video on the subject.

When I can , I still like to wet wade. It makes me smile. Paul drove down from Michigan last week and we fished old school style, in shorts and sneakers. It was a perfect day for it. Warm and Sunny, cicada's singing, the fish biting and smiles from old friends.

A Reason to Wet Wade

2008-08-04T05:03:00.010-04:00

When I was younger I always waded streams wearing old cutoffs and tennis shoes, no fancy waders. Wet wading a river helps create a reverence and understanding for the water and the creatures that live there. This is one of my flyfishing buddies Paul Steinway with a Kentucky smallmouth. Immersed in memories and water.....

Carp on the fly

2008-08-01T11:50:00.002-04:00

In Search of the Perfect Moment

2008-07-31T22:12:00.016-04:00

I've been chasing the idea of " the perfect moment. " Subtle and ephemeral, they are easy to miss. Like so many other wonderful things, I need to remember again what I have forgotten. The battle between the eternal and temporal, the corruptible and incorruptible clouds my vision and understanding. I'm afraid I'll miss it or not see it. So the search goes on....

Eugene O'Kelly in "Chasing Daylight" talks about the perfect moment being a moment with others when time stands still, a time fully in the present, where the past and future are set aside.

All opposites help describe and explain each other in some way... there is no darkness without light, red is most red placed next to it's compliment green... so is it possible to have perfection without the help of imperfection? Maybe it is the scar, impervious flaw, or broken heart that ushers in the possibility of a perfect moment.

New Smallmouth painting

2008-07-31T14:06:00.004-04:00

This is a new painting of a smallmouth , taking a big mayfly off the surface. I am always amazed how perfectly their markings and colors blend with whatever environ they live in.... I have released them and watched them melt away into the bottom of stream, like they were never real , just an apparition.... and your left wondering if you just touched a piece of eternity.....

Fly Fishing Reel Addiction!!.. I don't want help

2008-07-31T11:02:00.008-04:00

My next reel? Logan Reel

My new Airflo Balance Reel posing with a trout.... the fly rod is a TFO , these guys support Project Healing Waters a great idea!!

This fly reel addiction has hit me hard... Yeah, I'm obsessive compulsive about a few things. I already have way to many fly reels ... but this might be where my next one comes from , Logan Reel ..... I still don't have as many fly reels or rods as my buddy Jimbo...

Artist Eric Reaves

2008-07-27T19:35:00.008-04:00

Eric with the last fish of the day.....

I love Eric's art work.... you have got to check out his website... Welcome to Eric’s easel

Make sure you check out his fly fishing toons.....

Here is E ( Eric) with an average sized carp from the river.... I think these are the toughest fish in the stream... you have to put a serious sneak on to get within casting distance. Most of the time you have just one shot... any wayward cast and they are gone... A accurate double haul is almost a must...

But what I love more.... Eric has five kids and he's teaching them to flyfish .... definition of a great dad.....

Smallmouth daze .... and days ....

2008-07-27T14:42:00.015-04:00

July 25, partly cloudy, air temp 85 degrees, water temp 80 degrees, 2- 6 pm , water clarity/ medium .... somewhere in Indiana

This little guy came from the same place as big one in the next photo ... both were fooled by the same fly.

.... the hat is salmon colored, not pink....

I caught this guy while fishing with Eric , it is even more special when a buddy is there to witness it. Something had taken a chunk out of it's tail, more proof of how tough it is to survive and how important it is to put these fish back. I've seen some people who fish take stringers of these fish out of the river and it always disappoints me. A fish this size is at least eight years old, and every one is a miracle of survival. Why end it?

.......

There has been a mist in the air above the stream lately , helping create a feeling of anticipation and mystery. I fish for these reasons more than any other. The awe, wonder and memories ....

One Eyed Fish or Lack of Vision

2008-07-20T21:29:00.011-04:00

I went fishing today.... these two photos show one of the smallmouth I caught. It's right eye was completely blind and glazed over.... something had happened when it was younger, a hook in the eye, a heron attack , who knows... whatever it was, this fish kept on living and thriving.
It was easily a twenty inches , probably 8- 10 years old. An extraordinary feat in itself, but this survivor was blind in one eye. It's tough enough to make a living in this stream with two eyes. I don't keep fish anymore. If I did keep fish I still would have released this one. As it swam away it's colors gradually merged with the river colors until it disappeared from sight.... but not memory. You know how there are some people you meet who affect you in such profound ways you are changed forever?..... well this fish did that to me today.... persistent reflections....

There is so much that conspires to defeat and destroy us physically, emotionally and spiritually. The stuff that keeps us from being what we could be or should be. Is there a way when there seems to be no way? The now... the moment in front of us... can so easily disappear without our participation when we are stuck in the past or future. It's one of the things I love about fly fishing, everything is reduced to the moment that exist only right now.

Indiana Journey

2008-07-14T17:24:00.013-04:00

...the places I love to travel...
This is the mystery for me... how catching fish holds so tightly to my heart.... why? Most of the time it doesn't make sense but every now it becomes clear for just a moment and then it disappears beneath the surface of time.

This is a typical Indiana smallmouth stream.... in the mist and sounds I rediscover the me I hope to be....
Old barns stand sentinel over the land and streams, landmarks that reveal recent history of places I fish.

These little rivulets are all over Northern Indiana, draining farm fields, forests. If they are clear the rivers are usually fishable. I love the reflection of the sky they trace upon the land.
.....a bridge to my past or my future... what lies beneath?

Jeff Kennedy ... Drawing Flies

2008-07-03T18:01:00.003-04:00

Jeff Kennedy drawing flies

check out my friend Jeff Kennedy and his pursuit of drawing a fly a day for 365 days.... my personal favorite is the pancake fly! great job Jeff... when are we going smallmouth fishing?

out of this world flyfishing

2008-07-03T17:48:00.004-04:00

Fish from a different world

Click on this link to see a collection of out of this world fish.... I'd love to go on a tour of these places and land each of these on a fly rod ....

Spruce Creek

2008-06-06T17:02:00.009-04:00

This is the club house at Spruce Creek Rod and Gun Club, it is over 100 years old and is on the National Register of Historic Places. It's famous as fly fishing destinations go. Jimmy Carter, George Bush and many legendary fly fisherman have chased the trout that live in beautiful chalk stream. One of those was George Harvey, a long time member of the club, author, inventor of trout flies and teacher of the fly fishing classes at Penn State. George passed away earlier this year. When I found out, a treasured memory took me back in time two years. John Collins my friend, collector, and club member were fishing Johnsons stretch. A old station wagon pulled up as evening was closing in. It was George and his driver /caretaker. Dementia had stolen much of his recent memories but it could not steal from him his love of this place. It was Memorial Day weekend 2006. George wanted to know if the green drakes were hatching yet, even though he was physically no longer able to fish. It was enough just to be there. A b/w photo of George still hangs in the club house along with all the other current members. It was taken years ago while he was in his glory. Young enough to fish hard all day but old enough and wise enough to appreciate it. He's got a big smile and favorite fishing hat on. I studied the photo for along time ... I could not imagine him gone. Thoughts of all those I have loved and are now gone make the thought of heaven a little sweeter. When I'm on the stream it feels like they are still with me. It's one of the reasons I need to fish more and work less the older I get.

Matt Simmons in the Poconos

2008-06-05T21:01:00.006-04:00

This is a short video of my new fly fishing friend Matt Simmons.... Vary rarely do you meet someone and know they will be a good friend for the rest of your life. It's even more rare to meet someone and know they will make a good fishing buddy. Just watching him cast this big streamer in this short video and you know the guy can fish. But just because a guy can fish doesn't make him a good fishing buddy.

We fished together for only a couple of hours and didn't catch a thing, but I did catch a glimpse of his love for streams and trout and all things eternal. Those invisible things that whisper to us in these beautiful places....

Matt has fly fished all around the world, yet this little freestone stream not far from his home got him excited. Anybody that can be filled with that kind of awe and wonder and you know they have discovered some of the secrets to living well.

My big drum and Jimbos honking big drum

2008-06-05T19:34:00.006-04:00

these two photos of me were taken by good friend Eric Reaves here's a link to his website ...
Welcome to Eric’s easel

he's a fantastic artist and better friend
If you really know me.... you know I've become obsessed with catching large Freshwater Drum on a flyrod with a flies we've designed ourselves. Until Jimbo( Duecker) caught this fish a couple of weeks ago I had landed the biggest Drum of our local group of flyfishing buddies, Eric Reaves, Daryl Wisser, Rich Halverson Dave Brenneman and Dave Bireline.... I have a cool video of him landing this fish that I may put up later. A lot of fisherman consider these a trash fish and for the life of me I don't know why? They live in the same places as smallmouth, eat the same stuff and really put a bend in the rod. They are really spooky and require a perfect presentation in order to make them eat your fly. They are everything I look for in a fish. I even think they are beautiful. My goal is to catch a river drum in the 20 pound range... so far about 8 pounds is my largest.... I saw two tailing fish last year that were at least twenty......

Jimbo is on a roll... he caught the largest trout of our group last year a 10 pound rainbow on a dry fly, now this drum.... he can flat out flyfish!!! was I ever jealous of this fish, but it was great to be there!! I was with him when he landed the trout last year also... maybe I'm good mojo for him?

Hey Jimbo... E sent me these photos of my big drum from last year... which one do you think is bigget/ mine was bigger than I remembered.... pretty close?

Footsteps

2008-02-20T18:28:00.003-05:00

This is a film I made to explore the idea of the footsteps we leave behind or follow in ......

Trout Heart

2008-02-11T23:44:00.000-05:00

"For as a man thinks in his heart so is he"

At the Light

2008-02-11T23:27:00.000-05:00

This is a short film about daydreams while you wait at a traffic light.... what dreams we dream......

Sun Spots

2008-02-09T13:45:00.000-05:00

This is a short film combining digital animation with video .... a rise form , the shape of fish and the color of light..... These are all things I am unable to fully comprehend ...

My latest painting

2008-02-09T07:25:00.000-05:00

" Stripping Line" is my latest painting... I wanted to paint the feel of a misty rain.... One of my top five fishing days of all time was on the Kennebec River in Maine during a blizzard caddis hatch, with landlocked salmon going nuts on dry flys and a misty rain coming down. I waded out to a rock where I could reach the current seam with a long cast... The fly never drifted for long before a fish would rise and eat it.... the hatch lasted about an hour... an hour that has remained sure and steady ever since....

I have other memories of fishing in the mist , sometimes alone or often with friends... they are all so fine.....

Short Film ... " I Became the Words"

2008-02-08T19:49:00.001-05:00

This is my Short Film " I Became the Words. " This past December it won an award in the first Winston Fly Fishing Film Festival.

I'm trying to understand the connections between me and the ones I love... some are gone now, but their memory lingers on in the sounds and mist of the stream. You can view more fly fishing films and paintings on my website rodcrossman.com

Find out more about Pierce Pettis music