John Clark Pro Se Blog Actor, Producer & Writer

Category Archives: My Family and Me

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How Will Hay began me

Posted in A SPACE FOR NOSTALGIA, My resume

A friend in England named Steve, a begetter of all things Will Hay, sent me this movie clip which is quite fun to watch.

The Telegraph ran an obit today on classical pianist and composer Peter Katin. They ran a Pathe clip about “Three boys making a name for themselves” back in 1945. The third was jazz musician Victor Feldman, who died a few years ago. As I commented at the end of the piece “Two down and one to go – yikes, that’s me!”

Just William Society Magazine interview


John, I see you were born in London in 1932 and attended Watford Grammar School. Given that you started working for the BBC in 1944 you must have planned to be an actor from a very early age. Was that always your ambition? Did you have early training?

Three nos. I had no plan to be an actor, no ambition, and no training. When I went to Kings Langley’s Rudolph Steiner school (locally known as the “do as you like” school), at the age of ten, I was cast in the annual school play, Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, performed outdoors in the garden. But that was it, and I hated doing it, it seemed kind of gay; I was not turned on to acting, and had no thoughts along those lines. 

Your first show on BBC radio was The Will Hay Programme in 1944 where you acted as D’Arcy Minor, the swot of St. Michael’s. How did that come about? And was it fun working with Will Hay?

My family lived in Chipperfield, Herts, in those days, and I was coming home on the bus after school one day in August, when a man came up to me who I recognized, for he lived down the road. His name was Alick Hayes, and he asked me if I was a good reader. I told him yes, and he said could I come over later, meet his wife Zillah, have a cup of tea, and read him something out of the Evening Standard, so after supper I did. He tested me for fluency, to see if I could read without stumbling, and he was pleased that I could. He then explained that he was a BBC producer, and was about to start a new BBC radio comedy series, but the young actor he was going to use had just got sick, and he had an emergency, and maybe I could help out.

The show was The Will Hay Programme (The Diary of a Schoolmaster) and the part was that of a very clever young swot who said very long multi-syllabic words instead of shorter ones whenever he answered the schoolmaster’s questions. Mr Hayes wanted me to play it, just the first show, and he said it would save him from having to find another actor quickly from an acting academy. It was going out live in front of an audience from the Paris Cinema, a basement BBC studio off Piccadilly Circus, in just three days’ time.

I raced home, told my parents, said please let me do it, it sounds like fun, and it pays money. So my mother took me up to London next day, and that is where I met Will Hay and the rest of the cast – one schoolmaster and three students, so-called. Smart was the cheeky one (played by the very professional actor Charles Hawtrey), Beckett the dumb one (Billy Nicholls, on his day off from the RAF), and D’Arcy Minor, the studious swot (me). The joke was that I was the only real schoolboy (eleven years old). Will Hay was repeating the same schoolmaster act he had done in several of his films (Good Morning Boys, 1937, etc). It will be remembered that the comedy came out of the fact that he was a hopeless teacher, and the students took over.

That first day I remember well. Continue Reading

33 Years. A Review and a Complaint


June 1st. 2013

I see that my late ex will be having an Off-Broadway theatre named for her at a June 3rd 2013 ceremony in New York. The 45 Bleecker Street Theatre will thereafter be called the Lynn Redgrave Theatre. I am pleased for her. I plan to be there, and to become re-acquainted with my children and old family members and friends.

This has given me occasion to reflect on our life together.

Lynn and I, over the course of a little under 33 years, made a change in the landscape for the life of actors, for the better, I do believe. We never went looking for trouble. It came to us, and instead of burying it, we fought back.


First was a lawsuit against the Gate Theatre in Dublin. We put on a play starring Lynn and Dan O’Herlihy, my first directing job actually. We ran for 3 sold-out weeks (the longest they’d book us), the best box office in their history. Our deal was to split profits, which were excellent. Instead, they took half of our gross receipts. Discovery revealed that the Irish government, the owners, had years before ordered the management to make the theatre available to outside Irish companies for free. We lived locally, hired Irish actors, financed the show, and of course paid all the costs of our production. A 4-wall deal. We lost the case because their manager got me to initial a contract clause over my shoulder while I was directing a scene. The judge held me to it. We left Dublin soon after, leaving an Irish Equity with a smile on its face, for we had broken the Gate’s hold on their previous minimal actor’s salaries. It’s worth mentioning that despite (or because of) using an Irish attorney, brother of a prominent Irish actor, we lost and didn’t get our money back.

Then we headed West, back to my home town of New York, where we were soon greeted with a lawsuit filed against us by U.S. Equity who extorted 5% of my wife’s self-paid salary as dues, from a year’s tour we took across America with our own show, financed by us and directed by me. We had posted Equity bonds at each date, and they refused to return them. Again, we lost. Because of Vanessa’s political views, Lynn was under watch, and the release of her green card was held up. Equity rules defined a green card holder as actually holding it in her hand! The judge said this was a stupid lawsuit, but was forced to rule in their favor.  They returned the bonds less 5%. But, in a form of revenge you might say, we made a complaint with the National Labor Relations Board, who summoned the leaders of all of the performing unions, and found that Equity alone had been breaking the law for years, penalizing foreign stage performers for daring to peddle their art in America. They had constructed a punitive discriminatory dues structure, in order to discourage them. This time we won because they won. Now foreign actors are treated equally, and have a smile on their faces too, because it has led to a relatively free exchange of actors between America and England and elsewhere. Certainly audiences have applauded this development. We however, were deprived of financial satisfaction because we were outside the Statute of Limitations (3 year rule.) Yul Brynner received hundreds of thousands of dollars which nearly broke the union, but he was very nice, he invited me to lunch with him at the Bel Air, and gave me a bunch of daffodils for her, by way of his thanks.

Next came our famous lawsuit against Lew Wasserman and MCA/Universal, when Lynn was fired for wishing to breastfeed our daughter Annabel at work. Our thoroughly compromised WMA agent didn’t help, nor did our attorneys, and UTV’s press department went to work. Our suit was quietly dismissed by a corrupted judge headed for retirement. I wrote about it in the “Housecalls, what really happened” topic on the left. Expensive yeah, and actor mothers and fathers were eternally grateful for causing all Film and TV companies to provide facilities for employees who were new mothers and their babies. That was the only positive to come out of that case. In the event, they were ordered to reimburse our attorneys’ fees. They didn’t. They’d faxed notice of a hearing to our locked office while we were performing Love Letters up in San Francisco, and avoided payment due to our non-appearance, thanks to their famed “I always win” attorney Gale Title. No transcript was made of the proceedings, so Lew kept all of our attorney fees, and we never knew how he managed to make that happen.

Next, Lynn and I were asked to lead the Players, Edwin Booth’s 1888 gift to actors on Gramercy Park, by our close friends Garson Kanin and Ruth Gordon. I’d been a member for many years. The club was in dire straits. No proper books, so we gave them 20 grand to construct a proper set. Then our tough love for them proved to be too much, and we were summarily ejected. They’re still floundering. I see that steps are being taken by insiders for a clean sweep to improve its chances of survival. For my trouble, I’ve been called John Sleeper Clarke.

This gives me pause. The comparisons are striking! Booths = Redgraves! Consider: Separated by about one hundred years, it produces quite startling results. Junius Brutus cf. Sir Michael = Shakespearean actors, patriarchs and family founders, both. John Wilkes cf. Corin and Vanessa = fiery political trouble-makers, both. Asia cf. Lynn = good writers, recorders of their family stories, both. John Clarke cf. John Clark (me), married to those same sisters. We are the link by our same name. We are both lawyerly, both wicked comedians, both into management, and as Asia wrote to her brother Edwin “He lives a free going bachelor life and does what he likes.”  Sorry, no comment from me there, and he’s dead! Enough already.


To bring us up to date, I am here to say that the tradition is still alive, even though Lynn isn’t. I still choose to live dangerously, sui juris, out of some kind of personality defect, contrariness, orneriness, or just some kind of survival instinct from bad ad litem experiences – it’s not for me to say. But today I filed a Complaint with the Los Angeles Better Business Bureau, and the Los Angeles Department of Consumer Affairs against The Breakdown Services, Ltd. This is only a start, but hopefully it will lead to a satisfactory finish. Their stranglehold on the casting process is a scandal. Read it here:

I am a British born professional actor age 80, and have been a union member in England, Canada and America since 1944 (SAG/AFTRA, US Equity, ACTRA, Canadian Equity, British Equity). I am and have been a U.S. citizen since 1965. I do not use a “manager” or an “agent” because of past conflict of interest problems with them, and the experience of a major lawsuit against the William Morris Agency. I get my own acting jobs, but am effectively prevented from doing so.

I need to avail myself of full casting information from the Breakdowns, aka “Breakdown Services” (hereinafter “BS”), which is a monopoly service employed by all big and small movie and TV production and theatre companies. Scripts and story lines are received by BS from these companies, and from them, BS creates a breakdown of story plots and characters. This information is supplied EXCLUSIVELY to agents and/or managers electronically for money and profit, which is their business practice.

Actors, the subject of these notices, are shut out from seeing all, I said all, of them!

The owner/founder of BS, Gary Marsh, told his audience at a seminar he gave the evening of March 20, 2013 at the premises where I live at Oakwood, Barham Blvd. Hollywood, to a group of child actors and their mothers that he has criminal lawsuits pending against actors who have bootlegged his information. I have done this in the past. He told me that I could not buy their services at any price, only managers and agents, and between them they set the rules. I asked him if I could receive this information if I became a manager, and he said I could not qualify because I am an actor, and if I “wear 2 hats”, I would still be denied. There were at least 20 witnesses.

If you think that Mr. Marsh is not serious, look what he did to Mr. Brian Burke. He got himself a judgment of $1.3 million, and put Burke behind bars for 20 days for not obeying his court order! That’s an abuse of power, Mr. Marsh, a terrible abuse of actors who are trying to find available  work which you keep secret except for your paying privileged customers, aka agents and managers. You claim that it is the production companies and casting directors who make your rules. That, Mr. Marsh, is BS! The best of BS!

I believe that all actors are protected from this kind of discriminatory anti-competitive practice by government law, such as The Sherman Act, of July 2, 1890, ch. 647, 26 S 209, 15 U.S.C. §§ 1–7. Permit yourself to read it, Mr. Marsh, assuming you respect the laws of the United States.

Breakdown Services operates and reaches across state lines from coast to coast, and abroad. There is no competitive service anywhere. 

As settlement, I DEMAND

That the Breakdown Services provides this information ONLINE, so that ALL ACTORS across the world have access to it, at NO CHARGE. Any cost or expense should be born by the Breakdown Services, and passed on to the production companies. It is their joint problem. Together, they created it.

This complaint will soon appear online for the inspection and I hope support of actors. No, not their managers, and not their agents, and not the production companies. They’ll hate it. Actors don’t wish to be “protected from themselves” (see Gary Marsh’s Q&A link above) and will care, and, I’m pretty sure, SAG/Aftra and Equity will care too. I hope the brave ones will flock to support the request. This is not to denigrate Breakdown Services, for they do a fine job. We just want them to open up to us, the central sine qua non of their business, and stop insulting our intelligence.

Follow along and let me know you support this complaint, so that regulators are assured that we actors and directors WANT to know what jobs are available, 100% of them, not just for our enablers (managers and agents) to know, if you employ them at all, but ALL of us. Actors have voices off camera too, in our free society. Let them be heard loud and clear.

My Twitter handle is John Clark@johnclarknew. Click on it. I need feedback!

I hope it will not be necessary to file a lawsuit against Breakdown Services, because I don’t like lawyers either. And this would need one. I’m also too old to see it through the byways of the U.S. legal system. Here’s another example of what I’m talking about.


Lynn Redgrave, Jailed (not really)

Posted in Links to Cases & Litigants, Links to Media, LYNN REDGRAVE, My Family and Me

How would this headline have looked back in 1999? Because that is what I was trying to prevent and DID prevent, at great cost to me as it turned out.



Illegal Green Card Scam. Feds step in.

Lover Revealed.


   29 March, 1999

John Clark today reveals the truth about his 32 year marriage to actress and star Lynn Redgrave in this exclusive interview with the Daily Mail, now that his wife is headed for jail. He says he does this to “clear the air”, but that it gives him no pleasure whatsoever.

He says that about ten years into his marriage, Lynn revealed that she began a secret affair with actor Brandon Maggart, following in the same footsteps as her mother, actress Rachel Kempson, who maintained a secret 40 year affair with noted theatre director Glen Byam Shaw, bi-sexual husband of Upstairs Downstairs actress Angela Baddeley. She told John that Brandon wanted her for himself, that they loved each other, but that, like her mother, she would not dump John because of their small children, in much the same way that Rachel’s husband Sir Michael Redgrave wanted to keep his 50 year marriage going as a gay cover. However, she said she would continue the affair, and in fact arranged for Maggart to join her in the next dressing-room in the failed 1989 ABC-TV series Chicken Soup, where she co-starred with comedian Jackie Mason. Maggart proudly posted these pictures on his vanity website, as trophy proof which are worth a thousand words, he says. They show her at the Farmer’s Market in Santa Monica, then the two of them with Bill Clinton, and finally, in a picture take by their daughter Annabel, revealed her relationship with the Maggot (as John refers to him.)


This picture, taken from the website, shows John’s family, (and on the left Maggart’s son also named Brandon, who the court put in charge of the house during the term of his eviction.)

According to John, she became pregnant by him, but aborted the baby during rehearsals for Saint Joan, a Broadway play he directed for her. She told him that he would be “kept on” to continue to organize, manage, and assist in all aspects of her career, at her direction, so as to be able to dispense with agents, publicists, lawyers, money managers, and for protection from the press. And to continue to run the home, chauffeur the kids, and feed her horses. For his part, he says that since it was his only job, he told her “O.K. but all bets are off” as far as his own personal life was concerned. So he became the cuckolded husband.

He went on to present her in her first solo Broadway show Shakespeare For My Father, which he put together from her first scribblings, re-wrote parts of it, financed it alone, produced it alone, and directed it alone. That show was nominated for a Tony. He continued to stay in the background, uncredited, for that’s the way she insisted it be. He later found out that was a bad idea. She erased him from the record.

When the sister of their former English nanny Adeline came to live with them in 1990, the family dynamics changed. Nicolette Hannah was a “failed” Jehovah’s Witness who had been banished from the sect for having an affair with a married man. In her misery, and to help her carry on with her life, he suggested that a baby would be in order, and that he would arrange for its birth and send them both back to England where she could start a new life, and that he’d send her money until she found a husband.

Lynn was aware of this arrangement, and heartily condoned it. In fact, the day his son Jonathan was to be married in Dublin coincided with the day the baby was going to appear. He couldn’t be in both places at the same time and so, at Lynn’s suggestion, he attended the birth at a hospital in Santa Monica, and sent Benjy to Dublin.

His son from his first marriage, Jonathan, was a last minute baby appearing after his separation from Canadian actress Kay Hawtrey years before, in 1963. Furious because of his marriage to Lynn, she, using a Toronto family-law lawyer, denied him access to Jonathan in his growing years, ignoring court orders. John did not press for jail-time for Jonathan’s mother.

When Nicolette’s baby turned out to be a boy, he inevitably replaced the missing years of Jonathan. They named him Zachary John, and the only problem was that he was captivatingly adorable, and the family fell in love with him. Annabel got a brother, Lynn a grandson, and Zach got a father (but didn’t know it), raw irony at its fullest. Nicky, as she was always called, had named John as surviving parent in  her holographic will, in case anything happened to her. He became his guardian angel of a sort, and John says his first duty was to make sure the boy was happy and had a place to play and call his second home. John unwisely introduced Nicky to his and Lynn’s porn publisher friend Al Goldstein, whom they had helped save from prison in a midwest trial over his controversial Screw Magazine, being mailed across state lines. Nicky swooned into his ready arms, and decided she wanted to marry him, a horrifying outcome from Zach’s point of view.  He interceded successfully, and then the next danger came from an entirely unexpected source, Ernesto, his married Mexican plumber. He had hoped for a better quality husband for her, a nice rich jewish Beverly Hills corporate lawyer, perhaps. But it was not to be. (She did marry him, years later.)

While Lynn knew what was going on, they made sure that their children did not, and arranging for mother and child to stay in America meant careful planning, which turned out disastrously.

John is sorry that Lynn and Benjy and Zachary’s mother are in jail. It turned out to be unwise to meet with agents of the Justice Department using the “I am a celebrity” approach in an attempt to make sure they would not check up on Benjy’s arranged marriage, (for which he was well paid by Nicky.) They did check up. Was John involved in this attempted scam? Yes, he says, he was. And he wrote privately to tell them he was, and did not hear back. They left him out of it.

Meanwhile, the culprits have yet to appear in court to answer a few questions, for celebrities cannot be seen to get special treatment. In fact, they should be aware that celebrities are often used, depending on who they are, to set an example for the general public to know that they are not exempt from the harsh punishment of the law.

John says that Lynn was always a woman living “under the influence”. By that he meant that due to her strange upbringing, she was ill-equipped to handle life when she suddenly became a celebrity in competition with her already established and ambitious older sister Vanessa, and the intrusions of her father and his boyfriend’s planned projects into her evolving career. John says that, having lived the celebrity life before he met her, he was just the person to be her partner, and help her feel safe, secure, and well promoted upon their move to the United States where he was a citizen. And that if she were to leave him she will fall under another influence, probably through the advances of the always roaming sexual predators, and find that her days are numbered.

However, now that John sees his life with Lynn has come to an end, he breathes a sigh of relief, and wishes her and their kids well, and looks forward to getting back to his first love, which is acting and directing and film making, and to be a part of Zachary’s Topanga Canyon life as he grows up. He says he has no regrets at all, and perhaps his only failure, as a Redgrave, was not being a homosexual.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Google my name John Clark, and I just found that the Daily Mail was at it again. They’ve “updated” that article from 1999 when it was all happening and it was all about damage control caused by Nicolette’s lawyer James Eliaser, Esq., and attached it to the comments I made to a couple of reporters from the gossip agency Splash at my door on the occasion of Lynn’s death a couple of years ago. The Splash folks turned around and sold our conversation to the Daily Mail as though it was they who had interviewed me. Now, due to Google’s improved software, anyone googling my name comes up with that article, with the headline

The love child who broke Lynn Redgrave’s heart: In the week the actress died, her ex-husband tells of his shame and regret

By Alison Boshoff

UPDATED: 19:42 EST, 7 May 2010

I had already reported their dishonest tactics to the Press Commission in London (see that subject dealt with on the left).

There are two new biographies of the Redgrave family about to appear. One is the Donald Spoto biography titled The Redgraves: A Family Epic, and the other is The House of Redgrave, The Secret Lives of a Theatrical Dynasty by Tim Adler. I fully expect to be slaughtered again, with the same Daily Mail courtesy, a blood sport indeed. I shall buy them, read them, and report on them. As for me, an interview I gave to the Just William Society will be appearing shortly in their magazine, which will start me off on my book, yet to be finished.

In the meantime, in the sure knowledge that these authors will have got it wrong as far as my life with Lynn is concerned, let them read and ponder the facts, as filed under oath in my COMPLAINT against Larry King and CNN in District Court in Los Angeles on September 23, 2004. Here they will find out the whole story. That’s how I’ve been spending my time. Some retirement! But I think it is useful to educate the public on the workings and failings of our judicial system in these United States of America.

Anyway, it is for these reasons that I cannot let these false impressions of me sit there any longer, for there are still Lynn fans out there who refuse to accept me. It’s the same with professionals and the media, and it interferes with my rights, civil and professional, and my ability to make a living. I figure that after 12 years, the statute of limitations will have run its course. Both ladies hoodwinked me and hoodwinked you, with the help of a court of law, an evil judge, and evil attorneys by the name of Emily Edelman, and James Eliaser, all in it together for the money.

I think that readers can see from this that I have no “Shame and Regret” whatsoever. But please be advised that I was never interviewed by Alison Boshoff. If the Daily Mail cares to print this now, they have my permission, freely given.

To Lynn’s fans who are furious at me for bringing this up saying “let the dead R.I.P”, I have this in reply. I firmly believe in L.I.P. (Live in Peace). Anyway, how do we know that the dead are resting in peace? We don’t. I know that Lynn certainly didn’t die in peace, for she was essentially a good person (or I wouldn’t have agreed to marry her) and knew exactly what she was secretly doing to me, motivated by her lover, his 2 sons, a highly paid trickster of a lawyer, and a judge with a shady past. Her death resulted from something called Karma.

I needed to attend her funeral for many private and personal reasons. My son, feeling loyal and bound by her orders, forcibly stopped me at the church in Kent, Connecticut, and I nearly met my own death in a nearby hospital. I wish I could report that my kids are back with me now. Not so. I haven’t heard from them since. Meanwhile, the First Congregational Church and the Actors Fund adored her. In return for their adoration, she bequeathed $10,000 to each in her will. She later got a memorial fundraiser for the Fund, so good for them. They need the money.

In 1999 The Daily Telegraph wanted to pay me a million dollars, which would be split with their writer, for a joint book, and I turned them down, because Lynn’s life would have been destroyed, and I would have looked like a short term husband on the make. I am not, and have never needed to be, that kind of a person. I told them that when the time came, I would be writing my own book, alone, and I’ve kept their correspondence as proof. (n.b. It will not be called “Enter the Plumber”). And, BTW, I’ve never accepted a penny for an interview.

That time has come. Stay tuned. From now on I’m ready, maybe to self-publish if I have to. I need to be paid!


Time to Party

Posted in My Family and Me, Uncategorized

As I approach my eightieth birthday on November 1st (“All Saints Day”, thank you very much), I attended a party given by my oldest friends, Max and Suzy at their studio downtown.

Gee, what a party. I tried to email this clip to my kids, but the size is too big as an attachment. Use a web server, I’m told, so what the heck. Here it is.

Party time.


Posted in COMMENTARY-Passing parade, Links to Courts & Judges, Links to new justice, My Family and Me

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Newtown, Connecticut:
A grim Barack Obama made a powerful speech tonight from the Sandy Hook Elementary School auditorium, where he told residents not to lose heart in the wake of the devastating shootings that last Friday took 27 lives, including 20 children, 5 teachers, 1 school psychologist, and the gunman aged 20.

He slowly read the names of these innocent children, just 6 and 7 years old:

“Charlotte . . . Daniel . . . Olivia . . . Josephine . . . Ana . . . Dylan . . . Madeleine . . . Catherine . . . Chase . . . Jesse . . . James . . . Grace . . . Emilie . . . Jack . . . Noah . . . Caroline . . . Jessica . . . Benjamin . . . Avielle . . . Allison.”

The speech, it should be noted, came from his own hand and heart.

He then turned his attention to the living, which is where this column usually heads. It  should be read and thought about by everyone, but especially by Family Court judges, Family Court “specialist” lawyers, Family Court “child evaluators”, the justices on the Courts of Appeal, the justices on the State Supreme Court, and the mothers and fathers caught up in the throes of divorce and the, always, always, unavoidable betrayal of their children.

Obama said “This town reminds Americans what should really matter. . . ”

He pointed out that the nation is failing at what he called “our first task,” which was to care for the children of the nation.  “It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right, we don’t get anything right.”

He then asked: “Can we truly say that we are meeting our obligations? Can we honestly say that we are doing enough to keep our children — all of them — safe from harm? . . . a chance at a good life, with happiness and with purpose? If we are honest with ourselves, the answer is no. We are not doing enough, and we will have to change.”

We can’t tolerate this any more. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change. In the coming weeks, I’ll use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens, from law enforcement, to mental health professionals, to parents and educators, in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this, because what choice do we have? We can’t accept events like this as routine. Are we really prepared to say that we’re powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard? Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?”

I hope I will be excused for focusing my thoughts on our living children – all ages, from young to old. They are still with us, they are not lost, and we still have a chance to get it right. Let this be a way of making amends for the dead.

Here is the full speech and text.


The result of what Adam Lanza did was evil, no question about that.

But was his intent evil? I don’t think so, because I don’t think that children are inherently evil.

Continue Reading

MILESTONES! 80 Years ago today . . .

Posted in A SPACE FOR REFLECTION, My Family and Me

I’m 80 today! With a great effort my mother held on and avoided Hallowe’en with its suggestion of a magical witches brew getting into her new baby’s bloodstream, and released me to this world on ALL SAINTS DAY 1932, with the result you all know.

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Anniversaries? Never mind the Titanic, how about Eadweard Muybridge.

Posted in COMMENTARY-Passing parade, Links, My Family and Me

My youngest daughter Annabel, who took up photography, is reappearing on my radar I’m happy to say. Without any prompting, she’s joining the blog brigade, and I’m happy to link my readers to her website. Here, she chooses today to commemorate the 182nd birthday of the much neglected Eadweard Muybridge (1830-1904). She shows the connection between him and the film business, for he predates Edison by several years, with his moving projections of a galloping horse and some naked models in the 1870s.  Come to think of it, he was using stereoscopic multiple cameras in much the same way that James Cameron does today. Yes, we certainly owe him!

Muybridge (birth name Edward James Muggeridge)  emigrated from England when a young man, and settled in the Bay area of San Francisco.  In his forties, he took to himself a young wife named Flora, and while away on one of his photography trips, probably shooting landscapes in Yosemite, or Eskimos in Alaska, or American Indians in Oregon, he returned home to find love-letters between her and another man. She had taken a lover, a Major Larkyns. Did she file for divorce? Did he go to California Family Court? No. This is what he did:

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At the Chelsea Flower Show

Posted in COMMENTARY-Passing parade, My Family and Me

I just read in the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail of the celebrities attending the annual Chelsea Flower show in London. Another opportunity to show off their hats.

I see that my old sister-in-law Vanessa was there with her daughter Joely. She named a rose in honor of her other daughter Natasha, who died as the result of a foolish escapade on the slopes of a Canadian ski run a couple of years ago.

I cannot help but ask her why she could not do the same for her young sister Lynn, who has just past the first anniversary of her death on the flats of Kent, Connecticut.

It could be named THE PRINCESS MARGARET ROSE (get it?).  For Lynn felt she was always the second favorite daughter in her family.

Like Butterflies

Posted in My Family and Me

I feel like the family has been in a cocoon for some years.

Now there has been a life-change, and I’m proud to reintroduce my kids that I had with Lynn:

Kelly is now PEMA CLARK, and emerges as a singer song-writer. With the band she has formed, SIREN, she has put out an album called VORTEX, with the help of my first son by actress Kay Hawtrey, Jonathan Hawtrey Clark, who produced the album.  He’s a screen-writer who lives in Dublin.  Their website is called SEASONGMUSIC, and you can find her on YouTube.

ANNABEL CLARK is a successful photographer in New York.  Here’s her website showing some of her beautiful pictures.

CAPT. BENJY CLARK. No, he did not follow his parents into the business, and he is NOT an actor on Pee-wee’s Playhouse.  He is in fact Captain Ben Clark, flying East Coast short-haul for Delta.  He tells me he is back at the manuals, boning up on bigger equipment to go international. He has always yearned for bigger equipment. That’s my Benjy.  Delta is a great company to work for, he tells me.

So, all-in-all, forgive me for boasting about my new-found family.

A brief life in Japan

Posted in My Family and Me

Well it was only a week, but what a week!  Miyuki needed to go there, and I had no intention to follow her. Quite happy thank you, staying home and in a familiar place. Old age gets to you that way.

But I changed my mind.  Surprise!  Facebook seems to be the best way to tell you about it.

Exhausted from trans-Pacific travel, but now it’s back to work.

Lynn Redgrave Remembered by Ex-Husband John Clark (and how!)

Posted in My Family and Me

This headline and story appeared in the press on May 4th, 2 days after Lynn’s death:

“Actor John Clark is leading the tributes to his ex-wife Lynn Redgrave, who lost her battle with cancer at the age of 67. The “Georgy Girl” star passed away at her New York home on Sunday, May 2, marking another blow to the Redgrave acting dynasty – her brother Corin Redgrave died last month, while her niece Natasha Richardson lost her life following a skiing accident last year. Now actor/director Clark has paid tribute to the actress, whom he wed in 1967. He says, “I hope she finds peace where she is. She’s back in the bosom of her family now and may she rest in peace.” The couple became parents to three children, Benjamin, Pema and Annabel, before they divorced in 2000. A statement from the grieving siblings reads, “Our beloved mother Lynn passed away peacefully after a seven-year journey with breast cancer. She lived, loved and worked harder than ever before. “

I’m asked where was I for Lynn’s funeral? Nobody saw me, why wasn’t I there? I’ll tell you that I WAS there, and why nobody saw me.

You won’t have read about this anywhere else, not People Magazine, not Page 6, not Splash News, not TMZ, and not the Daily Mail (correction: In their 5/24 edition, they lifted the news off this site, without attribution – plagiarized as their own work. Invoking comments like “that sh*t isn’t worthy of kissing the ground she walks on”. Ironic comment, as you’ll see…)

For context, you need to know that I have had no contact with our kids for a long time. While I’ve entertained them at my house in Hollywood, they have never wanted me to visit them on the East coast, and in fact ignored me when my daughter Annabel got married in New York last August.

I emailed my son Ben for the funeral whereabouts. He told me it was being held the next day, on Saturday May 8th at 10 in the morning at the First Congregational Church in Kent, Connecticut, and that his mother didn’t want me there. I emailed the pastor, the Reverend Melinda Keck, for clarification. She simply told me not to attend, and please understand. I advised her to check her counseling goals towards her flock, and caught the red-eye for New York. To not go, in my mind, would be to validate her behavior towards me, an attempt to turn me into some version of Jesse James.  Besides, I have retained a love and respect for her, as the mother of my children, and the subject of my professional life.  I wished to find my own closure by attending.

After a horrid sleepless flight squeezed into a corner bulkhead seat, I rented a car at JFK, and drove North for 2 1/2 hours, reaching Kent with a half hour to spare. It came on to rain, hard. There was a group already on the church steps, two police cars in front with their lights flashing, and paparazzi in the road.

Directed to park in the back behind the church, I locked the car, and proceeded to walk towards the front. I was stopped by a security guard, and asked my name. Upon getting the answer, he summoned 2 policemen. They told me they would not let me pass. I insisted that I had every right to attend, having been a loyal husband for 33 years, and I wished to pay my final respects. As I pushed my way past them, they got physical. I guess I’m lucky I wasn’t tasered. I fell to the ground, and lay there on the pavement in the pouring rain, uncovered, in my good clothes. I could feel a sharp pain in my chest, right where my pacemaker is installed from my heart attack 2 years ago, and then I passed out.

I briefly came to in an ambulance, siren wailing, with an attendant shoving his thumbs into my eyeballs, and asking if I could feel anything, before succumbing again. I awoke in the emergency room at what I later found out was the New Milford hospital, about 15 miles South of Kent. A barrage of tests were ordered, because I’d been unresponsive. My blood pressure was 220 over 180, and they faced a diagnostic challenge by giving me an EKG, a CAT scan and an Echocardiogram.

After a night spent in a hospital bed, I was dozing off when around the corner of my curtain appeared a smiling and anxious face, my son Jonathan, who I thought was in Ireland, followed by the face of my daughter Kelly (now Pema) and her daughter Lena (my granddaughter whom I had never met), plus an old friend from London I hadn’t seen in years, Janie. They’d heard the sirens from inside the church, and found out it was for me. See the first picture below.

The doctor then came, and said if I felt better, I’d be released at 2pm, and that’s exactly what happened. Jonathan came with Benjy, yet, bringing me one of his shirts – they’d cut mine off me – and drove me back to my still parked and locked car, where my entire family was waiting.

I was so pleased to see them, as you can tell by looking at the pictures below.

You will see Benjy, Pema, me, Annabel, Lena, Eduardo Garabal (“Eddie”, Annabel’s new husband) and Jonathan.

From there, they drove me to the grave site, where I took this picture, Lynn’s final resting place next to her mother.

Well, that’s the story. My story.

It became clear that the reason behind my banishment was that Lynn’s lover, the Maggot (and I reference him here) was going to be at the funeral, and was staying at Lynn’s house. They feared that if I saw him, I would try to throttle him. Silly, because I am quite civilized most of the time. Anyway, I drove back to New York and all over Manhattan for half of Sunday night, traffic free, for old time’s sake. Nearly every block held a memory for me. Then I took the early morning flight back to Los Angeles. That was my first time out of L.A. in twelve years.

What began as the worst day of my life, ended up as the best day of my life (at least, so I thought).



LYNN REDGRAVE 1943-2010 R.I.P.

Posted in My Family and Me

May 3, 2010

Lynn died last night, and on this sad day, I prefer to remember the good bits, the times when we had fun, and gloried in the births of our children and the creation of our Topanga Canyon home.

Someone has found and put together this series of stills and clips from the past.  I just spent the last half-hour watching them, especially the Weight Watchers commercials and the Muppet Show, and laughing away.

I am proud to say that I had a piece of her action, helping to put together shows and productions that showed her off at her best.

Now she’s gone to join her family, to a place where we all end up some day, I guess.  The thought of which makes the horrors of our daily existence seem easier to deal with.

MD-80 checklist-going home

Posted in My Family and Me

January 20, 2010.

I wonder if this is part of Delta pilot training? Is this on a simulator?

Poor old Capt. Benjy, having to struggle with the responsibilty of keeping his sister’s, my youngest daughter’s, marriage to a Cuban-American (fine with me, by the way, hope he’s not a dissident) last August 1st. secret from me, her father.

Swearing the entire family members and their friends to secrecy while dancing at Liam Neeson’s farm upstate NY (disguised as "Dance Party of the Century".)  Well, Facebook and the attraction of marriage giftlists, and the internet, means that those things don’t stay secret for very long.  Meanwhile, I’d like to think that Annabel might have liked to have had her father present to proudly give her away.  Tradition. Blessing the marriage, that sort of thing.  Guess not.  Too bad for both of us, she’ll discover in time.  Meanwhile, for the benefit of passengers, we need to understand that Captains’ minds are sometimes in the cockpit of their home lives, but not in the left seat.

MD-80 CHECKLIST, arrival:

1. Auto brakes…………………………………………….OFF
2. Spoilers…………………………………………………RETRD
3. Radar…………………………………………………..OFF
4. Wing heaters……………………………………………SET
5. Ignition………………………………………………….OFF
6. Check list completed to apron
7. APU…………………………………………………….AS REQD
8. Flaps & slats…………………………………………….UP & RETRD
9. Checklist completed
1. Parking brakes………………………………………..ON & CHKD
2. Seat belts switch………………………………………OFF
3. Ice protection…………………………………………OFF
4. Fuel pumps……………………………………………SET
5. IRS……………………………………………………SET
6. Anti-collision light…………………………………….OFF
7. Peneumatic crossfeed…………………………………OPEN
8. Air conditioning……………………………………….SET
9. Lights…………………………………………………AS REQD
10. Hydraulic pumps…………………………………….SET
11. Engine oil quantity…………………………………..CHKD
12. Aircraft log/NOTOC………………………………….SIGNED/STORED
13. Fuelling info (as required)……………………………PERFORMED
14. Emergency light switch………………………………OFF
15. Checklist completed

1.  Eyes on road……………………………………………..…ON & CHKD
2.  Call Mom for orders……..…………..……..…………AS REQD
3.  Call Step-Dad (Brandon Maggart) for advice…AS REQD
4.  Get orders from wife………….……………………….AS REQD
5.  Check Facebook……………………..…….……..……..AS REQD
6.  Check Mom’s killer lawyer Emily Edelman….AS REQD
7.  Check leaks to Dad’s blog……….….…………..…..OPEN
8.  Re-check Facebook wedding pictures.….…….PENDING
9.  Check control of his grandchildren..….…..….WILLCO
10.  Say Hi to Liam…………………………………………..PENDING
11.  Mental logbook…………………………………SIGNED/STORED
12.  ?!!%?/#%*&$$$?…(|:>(……………………CALL AMBULANCE


Natasha Richardson, R.I.P.

Posted in My Family and Me


I stand back and watch what happens to members of my old family. This time with astonishment.  What happened shouldn’t have happened. SOMEBODY should have been keeping an eye on Natasha. At the age of 45, you don’t decide to learn how to ski. It’s too late for that kind of risk-taking. Her ski instructor up there in Canada, don’t they have a set of rules? Like, "Sorry, you’re too old. And even if you don’t care, there are many outside of your family who do!" Someone is feeling very guilty right now, whoever it was that encouraged her to take up skiing.  I’m afraid that when you become a celebrity, your life is no longer your own.  I guess I’m lucky, in a way. I chose at an early age to become somewhat invisible.

I first knew Tasha when she was 3 years old, and her sister Joely just 2 years old.  In those days, I wielded a camera (yes, I have some pics, private pics, of them  peeking over the side of the bathtub.)   Lynn and I helped their mother over a difficult time, for she was soon to be giving birth to Carlo, and was rather a lot of the time away from home.  I took the above picture of the sisters welcoming their new brother into the family, and released it to the press with Vanessa’s permission. 

By then we were starting ours, Benjy in 1968 (he’s now a Captain flying for Delta, with 2 kids.), and Kelly in 1970, (now with 3 kids of her own.)

Benjy and Lynn live a stone’s throw from each other and from Liam and his 2 sons, way up in the countryside North of New York.   He will be away filming much of the time.  I hope Lynn and Ben will come to the rescue with some love and sustenance for The Neeson family. And perhaps my youngest daughter Annabel will help them too.

While I’m at it, I want to mention my very youngest son, Zachary, who just turned 18.  The law kept him and me separated for the last 8 years, but I found him at last, and he’s in the "gifted child" section of North Hollywood High. He has been thoroughly alienated from me, and doesn’t want to meet me or deal with me.  That’s his right and privilege of course, but I’ve made sure he knows where to find me if he changes his mind (and I hope it won’t be when I’m having a R.I.P’ing time at Hollywood Forever.)

What am I doing these days? Well, I have this wonderful wife I found on the Internet, and I’m finding a new direction with Stand-up comedy, hope to get back into the acting field again, book-ending my life with the craft, and am writing my memoirs, which are kind of interesting.

Meanwhile, yes, I’m very proud of my family. They have the right genes, and I hope they don’t waste them. I feel for the Neeson family. My heart goes out to them.

MORE on Tasha at  Sunday 3/22/2009

An inquest under Quebec law should be requested and held as soon as possible.  Already, witnesses are telling conflicting stories (was she laughing and being playful at first or sitting holding her head? Did she tumble down the Bunny slope or the larger beginners’ slope? Why and how did she decline a helmet? What was she wearing, a parka covering her head? How many people were actually with her, and who were they? How about other skiers, what did they see? Was the ground examined where she hit her head? Who dismissed the first ambulance? Who called the second ambulance?).

Keep the lawyers out. They would love to sue. That takes time and "I don’t recall" answers. Get the truth out now, while public interest is hot. Here’s the site for the Quebec coroner. The coroner can get sworn statements. Already witnesses are saying "My lips are zipped!", afraid of lawsuits. Coroner’s hearings and Inquests can be swift and powerful and can get facts that may be useful later if need be.

But I am troubled by the fact that she was hastily flown to New York. Certainly, Montreal hospitals have state-of-the-art equipment, but they helped get her out of Canadian jurisdiction, fast, with the flimsiest of excuses (the family wants to say goodbye.) Nobody can prove where she died. Which means that legally the Quebec coroner cannot claim jurisdiction, nor can the New York coroner, and the recreational skiing area will avoid any risk to its reputation. The result being that there will be no inquest, and nothing will be learned from an inquiry because there won’t be one, just the NY medical examiner’s "cause of death".  Legal shenanigans?


Posted in My Family and Me

April 22, 2006
Niva is my son’s wife. She’s a lawyer.
When Benjy came to my house, he proudly sent me a clipping from a newspaper with a picture of his daughter sitting on Santa’s knee.
He begged me not to reveal pictures of his kids on this site, so as not to upset Niva. He says pictures are private, and can only be shown with her permission.
Well, here they are, the only time I was “allowed” to meet them, and the only pictures I have.
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At the top is their sweet little girl Patil, and below is the new one, Kyle.
Did Niva have a hand in the decision to see me evicted? Well, put it this way. Their sweet old parents, who live in Sherman Oaks, invited me over for dinner at a prior time, and after a lovely meal, opened a drawer, and dusted off an old real estate licence, and asked if I would please allow them to sell our properties. I was horrified. Haven’t talked to them since.
Last Christmas, Ben was in L.A. for a day. He visited, and I took him to the Grove, I said I would like to buy my grandchildren a gift, something to remember me by. All they have right now is a beautiful child’s kimono that Miyuki sent last year. He followed me around, and finally, while I was asking about their sizes, he said never mind the gifts, not necessary, they would most appreciate a check for their college fund. I bought the gifts anyway, and Miyuki gave him fifty bucks.
He gave me a handful of liquorice allsorts which he said was personal, from Niva.

ZACHARY JOHN CLARK (b. January 3, 1991)

Posted in My Family and Me

My son Zachary when I last saw him, age 10. Photo by me
WOW! Today you are 14 years old. Oh my God, is it really 15? Quite the young man.
I bring happy birthday wishes to you from your brothers Jonathan and Benjy, and also from your sisters Kelly and Annabel.
And also I am sure from your step-mother Lynn Redgrave.
I am so sorry that we have no contact, but one day you will come to know that I have been doing my best to put things right. You asked me for protection a long time ago, and I failed you. I’m so sorry.
Meanwhile, if any of your friends, school chums, computer geeks, other parents or anyone else, reads this and knows young Zach, please give him this telephone number, and ask him to call me.
JOHN CLARK 800/390-5913
I’d love to hear from you. We all would. We don’t know where you are.
I want to tell you about your birthday present this year, which I am holding for you.
Remember how we used to star gaze through my 8 inch Celestron reflector telescope from my lawn? Do you remember the star Arcturus, one of the brightest stars in the sky?
Well, quite near, there used to be a star named “Bootes Right Ascension 14H 36m 23s and Declination 32 degrees 2 minutes”.
No more. On January 3, 2006, that star will officially and forever bear the name Zachary John Clark ! And the name is permanently filed in the International Star Registry’s vault in Switzerland, and recorded in a book being registered at the copyright office of the United States of America.
I shall hold a copy of the certificate and the star map for you until I can give them to you personally. Hopefully, that will be soon. Meanwhile,
Lots of Love from your DAD

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Posted in My Family and Me

(This article was updated on Dec. 26, 2005.)
****Jonathan Hawtrey Clark was GRAND PRIZE WINNER of Fade In magazine’s ninth annual Fade In Awards — with his action script “The Binary Man.”
Clark beat out more than 2,000 entrants for the nod geared at getting recognition from the Hollywood film community for tyro scribes and helmers.****
Yes (his Dad speaking now), I’m so proud of his accomplishment. I hope he’ll make his mark here in Hollywood, and I think he will.
What a nice Christmas gift.
I’m also proud of the accomplishments of my other kids. Benjy is visiting me again, and tells me of his exploits as a pilot for Delta, Kelly called me from England to tell me she is teaching guitar and entertainment singing, and while I have still to hear from Annabel, she is shooting beautiful pictures (see her website Annabel Clark) and also working with her mother in pictures; I see she was an intern in the movie “Kinsey”.


Posted in COMMENTARY-Passing parade, My Family and Me

Well, I missed it again this year, so I’ll say it again for myself and for my three sons, two of whom have children of their own.
And my two daughters? Who knows. I have a feeling, at least, that they can’t help but think about me every one of their days.
And I say it for all fathers everywhere, stripped of their children by forces beyond their control.
Maybe somebody read this. Anyway, I heard from my son Benjy who had stopped somewhere in his Delta MD-80, and phoned me a happy father’s day. Hadn’t heard from him in over a year, but it made me feel good. Thanks, Benjy.


Posted in My Family and Me

May 7, 2005
Happy Birthday, Benjy, sonny-boy. I have to send my greetings this way, because you don’t tell me where you live.
I took your old friend Ron Jeremy and his g/f to the Magic Castle yesterday evening. He’d just returned from Oxford, England, where he’d been invited to address the Oxford Union Debating Society, joining Winston Churchill, 3 U.S. presidents, and the Dalai Lama. As you can imagine, he was very impressed with himself.
I told him it was your birthday today, and he sends his love.
Remember when we got together at my kitchen 2 Christmases ago, you, me, Miyuki, and Ronnie? How time flies!
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Also, our steadfast old Rott. Hermia sends you greetings from Topanga, where my faithful neighbor gave a home to our 3 family dogs, Hermia, her son Puck, and old lazy Portia.
Hermia’s getting on a bit now too, but she’s very friendly, and finds ways to keep herself happy.
View image
A loving lick from Hermia.

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ANNABEL LUCY CLARK (b. July 5, 1981)

Posted in My Family and Me

I just came across my photographer daughter’s website. Last I heard from her a few years ago, she was studying photography at the Parsons School of Design in New York, staying at my apartment. Now I see she graduated with a Batchelor of Fine Arts degree, and I didn’t know about her career taking off. I am so proud of her, and want everybody to know about it.
Through her website, I got to see pictures of my grandchildren, first glimpse for me. Thanks, kid! Keep shooting away!
I’ve emailed her through her website. I hope I hear back.
Here it is, with examples of her pictures:
Annabel Clark
I have come upon this interview you gave to the Sunday Times:
From The Sunday Times
April 10, 2005
Interviews: Caroline Scott
ANNABEL: Splitting up with my dad was the beginning of Mum finding out who she really is. [In 1998, John Clark fathered a child by Annabel’s assistant, Nicolette, who later married Annabel’s brother, Ben.] In an odd way it prepared her for her cancer. It was such a shock, such a massive hurdle, and yet she came through it, so she already knew she was a survivor.
She had several years between the divorce and being diagnosed to learn to live alone and deal with the emotional hardship. I think that’s when we started getting close. She had to discover within herself an independent woman, which she hadn’t been for 32 years. She told me she’d been my age the last time she lived alone. I remember when we moved into our first apartment, she didn’t pay the rent because she thought the landlady would bill her! I was 17 and also taking my first steps into the outside world, so we were setting out together.
I haven’t spoken to my dad for four years. None of us see him any more.
I tried for a while, but he only wanted to talk about what was wrong with Mum and how we could fix that by making her realise what she did wrong. It was a really weird time. At times I thought: “How can this get any worse?” But I don’t look at it negatively any more — it was all part of the journey; it was all part of getting close to my mother.
For various reasons, she told me she had cancer over the phone as I stood on a street corner in Brooklyn. She tried to be so motherly, so matter-of-fact. “They got it early — I’ll have the surgery and it’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Still trying to take care of me. But they hadn’t got it early.
It wasn’t fine and she wasn’t confident at all. And gradually, over the next six months, our roles changed. It wasn’t until she lost her hair that I saw her completely fall apart. It was like this terrible disintegration. I had to be objective and say: “Okay, we’re going to fix this.” I borrowed next-door’s clippers, sat her down and shaved her head.
My goal when I first started taking the photographs was to have an end to the project, which would be to see her well. That was part of the reason we did it. I feel that chapter is closed now. Once in a while I think, “What if it comes back?” or even “What if I get it?” Because the risk for me is immediately higher. But I don’t dwell on it. Maybe it’s naive, but because we’ve done the book, I feel we’ve done with worrying. I worried the most when I went to see my grandmother’s grave and Mum told me she’d bought the plot next to her. That was really hard, because for a couple of days everything fell away and I was convinced she was going to die.
Mum lives in the moment a lot more now. If she wants to do something, she doesn’t put it off. Sometimes that turns into her getting stressed again, because she wants things to happen immediately; she doesn’t like wasting time. But for the most part it’s a positive thing. She’s never been a confident person, but battling cancer seems to have given her confidence. She was certain she didn’t want reconstruction. Her mastectomy scar is her battle scar. It’s like: “This is me — this is who I am now.”
I didn’t see Vanessa that much when I was growing up. I didn’t get the impression there was real closeness, but now they talk all the time. When Vanessa was staying in New York, they’d meet for coffee in the park in the morning. They would never have done that before: it would have been more of a casual “hello”. We’re all aware that we may not have as much time as we thought, and relationships are more important to us. When I think about our relationship, the mother I had as a child seems a different person to me now. She’s less of a mother figure, more of a friend. There isn’t anything hidden any more; nothing she needs to be, nothing she needs to say. There’s just this quiet acceptance of her new self.

MY RESPONSE (because she doesn’t want me to write privately to her, and anyway, I don’t know her address)
What can I say to this? I know what I’d say to Ms. Scott, your interviewer, starting out with her statement that Nicolette was your assistant (it’s time that Murdoch’s London Times hired journalists capable of even minimal honest research for their articles). You’ve always known the truth why do you not enlighten the press, since you’re giving interviews? Do you need to do this? Well, I have this weblog out there to provide transparency, and I hope you dare to read it.
OK, sweetheart, you don’t need to respond to me, I see where you’re coming from. Take care of your Mum, she has a steep learning curve ahead about real life, but be careful you don’t become her keeper, or the two of you will belong in a Tennesee Williams play! You have your own life to lead, and you must be open to a fulfilling marriage and your own family one day. But I took in what you have to say about you and Lynn, and I am moved over what you are going through. Cancer is a horrible thing, and you and your mother have come under its sinister influence. I guess I should be happy that I am outside of its sphere as it effects my old family, yet somehow I feel guilty that I am not there for you both.
Just remember, my door is always open for you, (you should meet my new wife Miyuki who is a good wife to me, very far from being a feminist – maybe take pictures of her in her classic kimono!).
Just remember, if ever you need me, I’ll always be here for you.
Hi sweetheart.
Today was your Danish granny’s birthday. Also your mother’s first preview of her play in New York. Did you remember both?
I e-mailed you to your website, but still I haven’t heard from you, and now I don’t suppose I will.
I have looked through your portfolio on your website again, with care, and I do admire your work.
I especially loved your portraits and video of lonely old people you traveled to Spain to investigate, and another series of stills about abandoned places in the Mississippi Delta.
I hope you will give a thought to the source of the inspiration for your projects.
Like, the home you grew up in which you abandoned back in Topanga, helping your mother to cause your old Dad to get evicted and become a lonely old person. And is it possible you might be one of the daughters who get to come and “live with and take care of their aging parent”, which you say is one of your current projects?
Fortunately for you, you don’t need to worry about that. This parent saved his life all by himself by getting on the internet and finding just the person to live out his remaining years with. So please don’t feel guilty, just in case you do.
Now I can share my thoughts with the whole world on this blog which you and your sister and brother caused to come about by not communicating with both parents and your silence towards me, and you don’t have to read it, even. Just your friends, I hope.
And don’t forget your young sibling Zachary who seems to have disappeared. Your paths may cross again one day, long after we’re all gone. Give that a thought too.
Have a nice day, and I love you.
July 5, 2005
I don’t hear from you. Fancy, a daughter abandons her father, instead of the other way around. Amazing in today’s world.
I often look into at your lovely website which shows your work as a professional photographer, and which gives me a glimpse of my grandchildren. You are very talented, and makes this Clark very proud, especially as he passed on to you his background in photography. I’m sorry I could not give you one of my Nikons, as you know, all my equipment was stolen.
I hope my readers will take a look in
And I have to say that I get comfort knowing that armed with a camera you are doing your thing and finding yourself, in the Springtime of your life. It’s nice that you helped your mother with her illness and her book. Now take care, and keep looking and finding.
Love, Dad
July 5, 2006
Another year gone by. Still silence. Twenty-five years old, and nothing for four years.
Nevertheless, I wish you another Happy Birthday, and I hope your career is going well. I’m still waiting to hear from you, and I’m still bewildered.
As another daughter said to her old man
No cause, no cause. . . .
I think her name was Cordelia.
April 9, 2007
I’ve heard nothing from you, 5 years now, other than a “get well” card with no return address while I was in the hospital.
You should know that I have seen and heard regularly from your siblings and their children, (except for Zachary), and we are on good terms, I believe.
As you will know, Kelly has changed her name to Pema (means Lotus she tells me, on her way to becoming a Tibetan nun – hey, I’m glad and flattered she kept the Clark part, and didn’t change it to Redgrave!)
I see that your mum has joined Senator Barack Obama, busy launching his bid for the Democratic nomination for President, as an active member of the United Church of Christ. I hope she finds comfort in this.
You need to think about yourself now, for I was distressed to hear that you have contracted a rare condition in your hip called Pigmented Villonodular Synovitis (PVNS), an extremely rare disease that involves the lining of joints. I looked it up – only 1.8 in a million get this. And I’m told you will need a hip replacement, and are hobbling around on crutches. Which must impact your dream to be a photographer.
Sweetheart, it is at times like this that a girl needs a father, and whole family support. I urge you to contact me, because this way is quite absurd. You know where I am and how to contact me. I wish I could hug you, as I did the last time I saw you.
View image
Please come and see me. I’ll send you a ticket.
July 5, 2007
Another year, no daughter. Well, I wish you a happy day on this your birthday. Have fun.

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