Peter Victor is here, but not here. He has an address in Ellsworth, Maine, but doesn’t spiritually live there. Everything he does, and/or does not do; everything he beholds or holds is judged from the perspective of a rusted rolling steel deck in the middle of the North Atlantic. He, Peter Victor, is a Thinker, a Poet and a Photographer. He was a deep sea Merchant Mariner for fifteen years. He often still dreams of the ocean. Of course they are not only dreams. His poetry speaks of factual events, and mystical experiences. Each, in his eyes, are equally real and/or unreal. His photography reflects pristine landscapes and arresting portraits. He is self-taught, and his strongest photographic asset is something that can’t be taught: his eye. He sees things that are invisible to the rest of the world. Even the subjects of his portraits when looking at one of his photos often find themselves saying, I can’t believe that is me! Mostly nowadays he is a Father. It is being a Father that he believes is and was what he did and does best. He was and is an extraordinary Father. To two incredibly gifted, talented and beautiful boys. At 65 with a used and abused body he knows he is in the twilight of life. One of course can clearly see the sun as it moves through the sky during the course of the day. The sunrise is beautiful. Sunset is often spectacular. The world, like life, is circular. At the end of the day comes night. At the end of the night comes dawn. And then everything begins again.