"Crafty Culberts" Presents Mary-Lynn Culbert

 Mary-Lynn Culbert (the great-great-granddaughter of John Culbert & Mary Ward) was born 10 August 1959 to parents, Kenneth Arthur Culbert and Helen Needham.

Mary-Lynn Culbert at Saratoga Beach on Vancouver Island during their first snow fall upon returning to Canada in December, 2019. Photo by Mary-Lynn's husband, Paul Ciglen.

Here's Mary-Lynn to tell you about her passion for photography, followed by a presentation of some of her photographs. 

I was born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada but my family moved to Toronto just before I turned two years old, so I have no memories of La Belle Province. I grew up in Toronto, met my future husband, and moved to New York City, in 2001. After 14 1/2 years in NYC, we decided to take over a family property in Largo, Florida. After almost five years there, we'd had enough of the heat, humidity, and the rapidly degrading sociopolitical situation in the United States, and decided it was time to return home. We chose Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, as our new home.  

My interest in photography began in childhood. My dad, Kenneth Culbert, was a ferocious chronicler of family events, large and small. My childhood was punctuated by the pop of flash bulbs. One of my favorite family activities was to sit around a table covered with photo albums, listening to my parents tell stories of the people and places captured therein. 

And every summer, I would look forward to a visit from my brother, Campbell Culbert, who spent many years earning his living as a professional photographer.  Dad would bring home a screen and projector from the office, and Cam would give us a slide show of the work he'd been doing all over the world for the past year. Every image had a tale attached to it; some scary, some funny, all of them fascinating.

I was also inspired by my cousin, Terry Culbert, and his behind-the-camera work.  As a journalist, writer, and illustrator, he used the medium of film to bring a news item to life, or to compliment his written words and graphic images. My parents would get so excited, and we'd all gather around the TV whenever "one of Terry's pieces" was on the evening news. His books were proudly displayed and showed off to every visitor.   

I've always associated photographs not just with imagery, but with story telling. Sometimes it's a big, dramatic story that's obvious to anyone passing by. However, a photo can also tell a small, quiet tale about something that may have gone unnoticed.

Something that surprised me about photographs is how they can be utterly mundane and emotionally evocative at the same time. Having lost three family members over the last two years, I've been going through a lot of old albums and boxes of photos; and I've been so often stunned at the depth of emotion a single image can stir.

I've never offered my photos for sale or exhibited them. In fact, this is the first time anyone has ever showed any interest in them (thanks, MJ!). It's always something I've done for myself, simply to document a trip or event. However, after my mom, Helen (Needham) Culbert gave me the gift of a digital camera for my birthday about 10 years ago, it made it much easier to begin to use it as a way to tell my own stories. Having a camera with me makes me much more aware of my environment, and to see things in much more detail. I'm much more aware of light and shadow now, than I ever was; of patterns, movement, and stillness. I can't wait to get out and photograph more of our beautiful new home!   

Click on the any of the following images to enlarge them... 

Black and white study, Metropolitan Museum of Art sculpture garden, New York City, Sept. 9, 2016.

 

DUMBO ("Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass" - the actual name of the neighborhood), Brooklyn, Nov. 25, 2011.

Passing through, Central Park, New York City, Sept. 9, 2016.

Golden creature, Largo, Florida, Oct. 28, 2108.

Mist-covered feather, Discovery Passage, Vancouver Island, Oct., 2020

Driftwood and stones, Discovery Passage, Vancouver Island, Oct., 2020.

Dogwood sunset, Campbell River, British Columbia, August 21, 2020.

Stormy skies and seagulls, Campbell River, BC, Aug. 6, 2020.

Ridges, Campbell River, BC, Jan. 11, 2021.

Eye of the Beast, at Miracle Beach, Vancouver Island, BC, Jan. 3, 2021.

Thanks, Mary-Lynn!

Mary-Lynn Culbert's Family Tree:
Ancestors:
John Culbert & Mary Ward (great-great-grandparents)
Richard Culbert & Jane Eleanor Fairhall (great-grandparents)
Myron Manford Culbert & Effie Pearl Taylor (grandparents)
Kenneth Arthur Culbert & Helen Needham (parents)

Gone Fishing: A Memorial Tribute to Greg Culbert (1943-2020)

 Written by Greg’s sister, Mary-Lynn Culbert of Campbell River, British Columbia, in celebration of the 77^th anniversary of Greg Culbert’s birth, 10 December, 1943.

 

Greg Culbert fly fishing on the Oldman River near Calgary, Alberta.

My brother Greg passed in his sleep at home on the morning of September 16, 2020, in Campbell River, BC, surrounded by those he loved after a short struggle with non-Hodgkin lymphoma.  

He was a big man - big in stature, big of heart, big energy that filled the room. So the hole left by his passing is equally large. 

Greg was the sort of person you could not feel ambivalent about. He made strong and lasting impressions. Sometimes he left scars. 

Circumstance and distance left me estranged from my brother for most of my adult life. But, in 2001, my mother moved to Calgary, Alberta, to live with Greg and his family, and it was during my regular visits there that we began to form a friendship. I think Greg decided that the best way to see if I was worth getting to know was to take me fishing; if I could keep up and be “one of the boys” for the weekend then I might be worth the effort. I must have passed muster, because he and I murdered many a fish together over the years.  

 

Greg and his sister, Mary-Lynn.

We had much catching up to do and, as it turned out, little time to do it. About 2006, Greg began to suffer from short-term memory loss. Soon, much of the brief history we’d created together had been erased from his mind. I lost him just as I was finding him again.

Greg taught me many things in the time we were given: how to land and release a fish; how to eat pheasant without breaking a tooth on buckshot; how to shoot a rifle (apparently, I’m a natural); how to drink scotch properly (it seems orange juice should never be involved). Most importantly, he taught me a lot about family and how important, fragile, and beautiful those bonds can be. 

My brother saw more with his one, good eye than most people do with two.

 

 He could spot a bully or a fake a mile away. He could point out a tiny flower nestled in the prairie grass, or a covey of quail that even his own dog had missed. And he could be quick to see weakness and exploit it mercilessly.  

Not long ago he shared with me: “There comes a point in your life when you realize you can’t solve things anymore with a punch in the nose. When I think back on all the times I used my fists instead of talking or just walking away, I wish I’d had more patience. Although there were times when some jerk really deserved it, I wish I’d known how to do things differently.”

He was no angel, but he was a good man. He did not suffer fools gladly but he was willing to give anyone a chance or a hand up when they were down on their luck.  

I will remember him for his wicked sense of humor and his fierce love of family. I will miss his stories, and sharing with him a love of nature.

He gave the best hugs! A hug from Greg was like being enfolded in a big, soft, safe, warm duvet. When Greg hugged you, you felt that nothing could ever go wrong again. For such a powerful, tough guy, his hugs were full of love and tenderness. That will be one of the things I will miss the most.

Wherever he now moves through the universe, I hope he is traveling with all the dogs he’s ever loved, and that he finds a quiet spot where the bite is on.

 

Annie, the black English Labrador stayed by Greg’s side to the end, a faithful friend giving love and comfort.

BRIAN GREGORY CULBERT’S FAMILY TREE:

Ancestors:

John Culbert & Mary Ward (great-great-grandparents)

Richard Culbert & Jane Eleanor Fairhall (great-grandparents)

Myron Manford Culbert & Effie Pearl Taylor (grandparents)

Kenneth Arthur Culbert & Mary Helen Needham (parents)

Descendants (Children):

Kimberley Tara (Culbert) Small

Katherine (Culbert) Kerr

Elizabeth (Culbert) Turner

Note: On Sunday, December 13th, there will be a follow-up post (click here) with details about Greg’s life and adventures.

Happy Birthday, Mary-Lynn Culbert!

Happy 60th birthday to Mary-Lynn Culbert!

Mary-Lynn Culbert and her mother, Helen Culbert at Boundary Ranch in the Kananaskis Valley, Alberta, 2014.

Mary-Lynn was born 10 August 1959 to Kenneth Arthur Culbert (see this post) and Helen Needham (see this post). 

Mary-Lynn is the aunt of Kim (Culbert) Small who celebrated her 50th birthday this year (see this post.)

Mary-Lynn Culbert's Family Tree:
Ancestors:
John Culbert & Mary Ward (great-great-grandparents)
Richard Culbert & Jane Eleanor Fairhall (great-grandparents)
Myron Manford Culbert & Effie Pearl Taylor (grandparents)
Kenneth Arthur Culbert & Helen Needham (parents)

Remembering Helen (Needham) Culbert

This tribute to Helen (Needham) Culbert (wife of Ken Culbert), was written by her daughter, Mary-Lynn Culbert.

January 25^th would have been my mother’s 101^st birthday.  She passed away just two months shy of this landmark, on November 20^th, 2018.  While I grieve her loss, I am comforted knowing that she was ready to embark on her next journey.  

Helen came into a world without so many things we take for granted today.  And she lived long enough to see the world utterly transform around her in ways she could never have imagined.  Her life was filled with many challenges, love, loss, accomplishment, triumph, roads not taken, and some great adventures.  She faced it all with courage, a curious mind, and a wicked wit.  

 

She taught me to appreciate the beauty of ordinary things; to understand that everything is made better by a good meal; to know that anything can be endured if you keep a sense of humor; to realize that women are the strongest things on earth; to be good to myself.   

It’s a strange thing to realize we will all, baring accident, eventually be orphans in this world.  Yet we are never alone, because we carry forward within us the collective experience of all those ancestors who came before.  I know that my mother’s life will continue to inform and shape my own for as long as I live.  While she can no longer travel by my side, she will always be in my heart.  And I will be a stronger, better person for her presence.

Helen (Needham) Culbert and her daughter, Mary-Lynn Culbert, 2010 in Calgary. Photo by Paul Ciglen.