Articles
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1 week ago |
downeast.com | Jesse Ellison
Lynn Karlin seems to hardly ever sit down. On a late-fall afternoon in the whitewashed photography studio behind her Belfast home, she was up and down, making coffee and tea, offering crackers and cookies. She moved in and out of a prop room and the large sun-drenched space where she shoots still lifes. She darted between a table where she’d recently staged a portrait of pastel-colored pumpkins and striped squashes atop peeling wooden pedestals and the computer where she edits images.
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2 months ago |
downeast.com | Jesse Ellison
On a bright, blustery afternoonlast spring, six women rowers gathered next to a shingled equipment shed on Belfast Harbor and began putting on sweatbands and slim, inflatable life jackets. They talked and laughed with the easy, jocular cadence of a group that had been practicing together three times a week for the past 10 months. But once the members had lowered themselves into their creaky wooden craft, known as a Cornish pilot gig, all conversation ceased.
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Nov 26, 2024 |
midcoastvillager.com | Jesse Ellison
As a kid growing up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin, the absolute highlight of every month for Craig Olson was when the bookmobile came to town. Most of the time, his reading options were limited to the handful of books his family had in the house, or the local library, which was so small it shared space with the fire department. When the bookmobile came, the whole world opened up.
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Oct 17, 2024 |
downeast.com | Jesse Ellison
To understand why Justin and Samantha Juray felt they had no choice other than the hardest choice, it’s important to understand that their business, Just-In-Time Recreation, in Lewiston, is more than a bowling alley. “A family within a family” is how Samantha described it one recent afternoon, during a rare moment when she was able to take a break from her endless to-do list to sit down and talk.
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May 22, 2024 |
downeast.com | Jesse Ellison
It was the middle of October and Cobbosseecontee Lake was perfectly still, a mirror reflecting a sky thick with billowing clouds. Em Russell was standing on the stern of a little motorboat, wearing three wetsuits, one layered atop another, his face creased from the press of his scuba mask. He scanned the water, searching for a tiny sprig of green he thought he had glimpsed, a fragment of invasive Eurasian watermilfoil.
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