I am an adventurous, creative, man who is looking to share my life with a soul mate. I have been fortunate enough to have many chapters of love, many more than I shared here, but never with my soul mate. I live in gratitude, pay it forward every day, am a helpless romantic and take great pride in maintaining most of my relationships for life. I am an artist, entrepreneur, athlete and father of two incredible young adults. I am caring, intelligent, wise, understanding and giving. I have always thought that I was never truly loved. Perhaps it is because I have such a hard time loving myself. I would like to fall in love with a woman who sees all that I am and for all the right reasons. I hope that I will see her, for all the right reasons, as well. I tend to be a “Brainiac,” yet, at the same time entertaining, especially when the opportunity arises to break out my cameras and create. I am very passionate about sailing. I hope to navigate the world with my love one day. For now, I am navigating Long Island and loving it. I am family oriented. For some reason, children seem to enjoy my entertaining ways, especially when we play Simon Says. I write professionally, produce and direct professionally and own an alternative currency trade network. I am your classic entrepreneur. I was sick for a very long time, but thanks to modern medicine and technology, I am much better now. I live a very healthy lifestyle. Despite the fact I have worked as a professional photographer and have photographed beautiful women from around the world, I do not think my future soul mate will be from the entertainment industry, or at least not someone who dedicates her life to it.
As a single father, I couldn’t afford to travel after my divorce. I took my children skiing in upstate New York and to the beach. Long Island beaches and the ski slopes up north were destinations people traveled to from around the world, so it wasn’t a hardship. But, I hadn’t seen much of the US, other than when I was a boy. When I started my journey in the RV, I hoped to find adventure anything that would provide something different to look at or photograph while I was walking. I was also living out a bucket list of sorts albeit one on a minuscule budget. Most days on the road were like that of a professional athlete. I had my good days and my bad days. I never knew what my tomorrow was going to be like as my health roller-coastered daily, sometimes even hourly. What I did know was that I couldn’t walk on Long Island or in New York City any more. Everything started to look the same. I felt as if I knew every blade of grass, in every park and every beach on Long Island. The City, was too noisy. Life seemed like an endless treadmill. I felt like Bill Murray’s character in “Ground Hog Day.” Incidentally, I met and photographed him at the Forest Hills US Open quite informally. When I left New York, one of my life-long friends helped me pick up the camper and attach it to my car. He was so much better at things like that and I wanted to see him one time before I left. I thought I might never see him again. We went back decades. I was the one who introduced him to his wife. They spent a month in my waterbed. I couldn’t get rid of them. But, we were like brothers, so I didn’t want to. I was happy they found love. They have three boys now and have spent decades together. I was on my way to anywhere USA. I was terrified of leaving everything behind and going to God knows where? The day I left, my daughter called me crying. She wanted to see me one more time, but it was too late. I was already hours away. I contemplated driving all the way back to New York, just to give her one last hug. I couldn’t bring myself to see her. I was crying for hours, knowing that I might never see her again. It was as if my heart stayed on Long Island, with her. I was trying to convince myself that it was for the best. The doctors had been telling me for many years that the stents were failing. There was nothing they could do. I never told anyone and especially tried to keep it from my children. At that point my health was deteriorating rapidly in ways I could never have predicted and I didn’t want my children to see me suffer.
I was floating in the most serene of spaces. I had no idea where I was; only that it was very peaceful. It was the most comfortable and relaxed feeling I ever experienced. It was as if I was weightless and floating above whatever it was I had been laying on. It felt warm, like bathwater at the perfect temperature. It felt like I was touching nothing. I was just there somehow. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I wasn’t sure why. I felt like I was dreaming, yet awake. If there was a heaven on earth, that is where I was. I felt no stress, no worry, no fear, nothing but peace. There were no birds, no trees and no blankets. I was just floating. But, there was light. It was as bright a light as I had ever seen; only I couldn’t see anything. I was aware of my body, but couldn’t feel it. It was as if I was in an incubator and didn’t even have to breathe on my own. I was confused, to say the least. And then, I heard a kind and gentle voice that seemed to be whispering directly into my brain. As her voice became clearer, I began to feel my heart beat again… but very slowly. And then, the voice would fade away. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, even though the message seemed to be coming from within my own body. Then, another heartbeat. But, still no breathing. Then her voice became clearer. She was saying, “breathe, Mr. Dowling. You have to breathe.” I was still floating. Each time I heard her voice, I would suck in air. While everything else was effortless, the breathing was not. It was almost impossible. Even so, I did not feel as if I was suffocating. I just wasn’t breathing. It was as if I was in suspended animation.
She worked for one of the local vets and lived on a makeshift farm of sorts out east. She would come to my house to take care of me, my aquarium fish, my home, just about everything, with the one notable exception of my children. When my children came to dad’s house, they were always the focus of my attention. My ex was living with another man. Any chance of reconciliation was over. I was so medicated I was a just short of being a walking zombie. The surgeons had tried many times, but the arteries in my heart and around my body were failing faster than they could be repaired. My health was again deteriorating quickly and the medication that was meant to keep me safe had so many side effects I was in constant pain and tired all the time. She was cute, shy and down to earth, a real country girl. She flirted with me every time she came to clean, organize, or help with the laundry and maintenance. I was so weak and limited I couldn’t do it myself without painkillers and I hated the way they made me feel. Often I would just lie there in bed, trying to not have a heart attack. Just walking, in the cold, from my front door to my car was life threatening. I resigned from my friend’s software company in Northport and started working for a much larger software company near Penn Station, on eighth-avenue. Getting out of my house and into the city was nearly impossible, but they were paying me a shit- load of money. Taxis and trains became my way of getting around. I walked as much as possible every day, but always with pain radiating throughout my entire body. I would go about twenty yards and then have to rest and catch my breath. She started coming more often than she was being paid to. I wasn’t paying her very much at all. She seemed to love my plethora of pets from my dog and cats, to my salt-water aquarium fish. When she was around I was much less sad. It was easier when she was with me on the days my children were at their mom’s house. No matter how badly I felt, she would make me laugh. She wore very conservative baggy sweat pants and sweatshirts every time she came to my home and although she was very pretty she hid her body quite well.
The sun had barely risen. It was a golden haze partially hidden by the morning fog. As we walked through the sea grass, the morning dew was cold and wet against our ankles. We were approaching the shoreline. The waves were lightly rolling in. They were large enough to create the beautiful white and blue highlights that compliment my swimsuit and body shots. The seagulls were flying low across the horizon. It was a typical, tranquil, sunrise on Jones Beach. I was quite young and would often shoot at the fields I grew up on, field 3 and 4, sometimes the West End and Robert Moses. She was a native Long Islander. Despite the fact I was now living in New York City, I continued filming on the beaches, as I have most of my life. I was not making a lot of money as a photographer, but I was making a living and meeting women from all over the world. It was unusual that this model was from Long Island. She was gorgeous, very sculptured and European looking. She was a tall blonde. For a model, she was exceptionally well endowed. When she took off her top, it became evident as to how curvaceous she truly was.. She was a teen model who just turned eighteen. I was only a few years older. I had shot hundreds of models, but I had never photographed anyone with breasts of that size. Most models were considerably less well endowed. I never understood why models loved to get naked when we shot. Later, I learned that they are just as free spirited as I am. For them, it made the shoot more fun and fulfilling. Despite what people might think, every one of my chapters of love was a beautiful experience, even the ones that began quickly after meeting. I never judged any of the women I was with, at least I tried not to. My father once told me, “For every willing guy there is always a willing girl. What makes you think women are any different than us?” He was right, but I was still very naïve when it came to women, what they wanted and what they were willing to do to get it. This was despite my obsessive sexual appetite.