My father was a creative individual with tremendous style, who mastered the art of composition. He worked for years at Brooks Brothers & J Press in New York City as a young adult where he styled an A-list clientele. Later, he entered the restaurant world, perfecting the art of entertaining, a master of mixology, and a connoisseur of the perfect martini. Daddy refined his culinary skills and was the quintessential host. Quick witted comedically, debonair, and a true gentleman.
Next to his family, daddy's composition created a love affair with the camera, building a freelance career as a professional photographer. His eye was keen. He saw things others couldn't see and could translate them into something magical. My father photographed my every waking moment. I grew comfortable in front of a camera, in fact, it seemed second nature. What my father did was build my confidence in front of a camera, paving the way for my aspirations.
His command of the English language was stellar and his literacy was well above par, considering his lack of a formal education. He translated his feelings into beautiful writing and his artistry earned him The Golden Poets Award.
As my fathers birthday approaches, I think of him deeply. I reflect on his life and the life he gave me.
My best memory of my father was of him pushing me on the swings and telling me to always dream big. With each zestful push he told me, "if you always try to reach the stars with your toes, you eventually will."
I have carried those words with me through life and spent a great deal of my life dreaming, mapping out exactly what I would be doing today. I want to thank you daddy for encouraging me, inspiring me and always supporting my every hope and dream. I looked in the mirror this afternoon and I saw my father starring back at me. Never before had I linked the timeline of his life to mine. iIt's quite surreal. Jamie Gottschall IndomitableStyle