10 Sept 2014


On 25 July 2003 at Stoned Mountain Park Georgia,
99X sponsored a free Big Rock Summer Concert with Shinedown, Seether, Our Lady Peace, and 3 Doors Down.
When I arrived at the Park, the crowd was packed shoulder to shoulder a couple of hundred rows deep to the stage.

My main goal was to see Shinedown,
but all I could gander through the crowd was glimpses of Brad Stewart’s dreads.
After Shinedown’s set some of the crowd filtered out, and I elbowed my way towards the stage.
After Seether’s set, I continued to elbow my way towards the stage.
At this point, I was only a few rows of packed people from the security rail, and Our Lady Peace proceeded to blow me away.

Towards the end of Our Lady Peace’s set, a fight broke out sweeping me to the center of the stage.
I was standing at the true center of the stage in the sonic sweet spot,
and the crowd surge kept me pressed me tightly against the security fence.

As 3 Doors Down jammed through the set, you stopped the show to change a guitar that was out of tune,
and then proceeded to rock out one of the best renditions of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Simple Man. Moved by your character,
I made a wish to meet you.

The next time I saw you was on 15 Oct 2005 at the Aladdin Casino Theater with Shinedown, Alter Bridge,
and 3 Doors Down. Much to my surprise on 17 Oct 2005 after the LeReve Cirque du Soleil show at the Wynn Casino in Las Vegas,
I saw you walking in the Casino ahead of me towards the Parasol Up Bar.
I walked up behind you, and I called out, “Stoned Mountain… Stoned Mountain.”
I am not sure that you heard me behind you.

When someone stopped you to get your autograph, I made my way to stand before you.
When I had your attention, I said, “I saw you at Stoned Mountain Park in July of 2003 when you were just a pocket full of Kryptonite.”
The joyous smile on your face was priceless, and then you reeled off the others that were on the stage that night.
You have a great memory.

As we talked, the beautiful lady next to you looked directly at me and said, “You look familiar.”
At that point, you introduced me to your wife Terika, and I immediately knew why you write such incredible heart felt songs.
As we traded pleasantries, I told you that I had stumbled into abstract photography.
I asked for your email to send you some examples, and you asked for my phone number to put in your blackberry.

You showed genuine interest in my art, and I offered to leave you some samples at your hotel.
You told me to drop the art off at the Aladdin, and the next morning I left the below linked peace for you.


After dropping a collection of prints off at the Aladdin, I sent you an email, and you were most polite to respond.
“Hey David. Thanx for the pictures! Those are amazing! I'm sure we'll see ya soon.”

My October 2005 trip to Las Vegas was an attempt to find an art gallery to display my work.
Gallery after gallery would say, “Oh that is beautiful. What is it?”
The instant that I would say it is photographs they would say, “We do not sell photography”.
I was riding a tsunami wave of rejection when the gravity of just three words in your response,
“Those are amazing!” restored a confidence in me that had been stolen over the past few years.

The events that lead me to Las Vegas that day began on 1 Apr 2003 when my life took a 180 degree turn,
and I began to look at my past in the reverse light. I became consumed with an event that occurred on 19 Jun 1977.
On that night, I was involved in a serious auto accident that left me with a profound memory of being dead.

The deeper I looked into the memory of my death, the more coin incidences I noticed in my life.
On Father’s Day 15 Jun 2003, my father took me to the oldest cemetery in Atlanta called Oakland.
When my father pointed to my Great, Great, Great, Grandfather’s headstone,
I stopped in my tracks. James Lynch had crossed over on my birthday 16 May 1899.


A few days later, I returned to Oakland Cemetery to talk with the Sextant regarding the Western wall of the Lynch plot that is falling down.
When I introduced myself to Sam Reid he asked, “You are a Lynch?”, and I said, “Yes”. Sam reached out to shake my hand and said,
“You know that you are as close as this town gets to Irish Royalty.”
I just looked at him with a dumfounded smile on my face.

Sam said,
“The oldest church in Atlanta, the Immaculate Conception Shrine rests of stoned quarried and placed by the Lynch family,
and when Sherman came to burn Atlanta
Patrick Lynch Father O’Reilly helped to negotiate the salvation of that church and many more churches.”

The next day, I went to the Atlanta History Center to research Sam’s statements. Much to my surprise they are true.
When I called my father to ask him why he never told me about the family history my father said,
“I did not want it to go to your head, and oh by the way your cousin is Che Guevara.”
I went to the book store to research Che Guevara, and I found a photograph that forever changed my life.
Ernesto Che Guevara’s grandmother was a Lynch. For an instant, I thought I was looking into a mirror.


Realizing that my family lived the real “Gone with the Wind” in the heart of Atlanta struck a major chord in my being.
Complicating the situation was the resemblance to Ernesto Che Guevara that propelled me into a state of disbelief.
My life had taken on a new meaning. The events of each moment were happening for a reason.

My quest for answers led me to the Stoned Mountain Park show to see Shinedown play “Fly From the Inside.”,
and on that hot July night I had an epiphany that spun my world into utter chaos.
I walked away from the stage saying, “I think I see. I think I see. I am over the edge.”
With a perplexed look, my friend Deron Fish asked, “Dave, Are you ok? Do I need to put you on a bungee?”

On 16 Sept 2003 while lying on the floor of my Norcross house, I had a vison that shook my inner most being to the core.
When I lifted my camera to ask my son in law Jeff Payne to take my photograph, the shutter triggered as the lens passed through a rope light.
The blur of color interested Jeff, and I had to ask him again to take my photograph.
The below link documents the moment that I understood the message spoken to me 26 years earlier on 19 Jun 1977
by whom that told me his name was father.


Over the next few months, I created over 9,000 abstract photographs until I broke the mirror lift lever in my Nikon D100.
My step daughter Star Dailey asked me if I was having epileptic seizures.
The camera was bouncing freely in my hands with each swift swing of the lens through various light fields.
In my mind’s eye, I was painting music.


My family was convinced that I had lost my mind.
I decided to leave the computer industry that had provided me with great comfort for many years.
I had to resolve a burning question that was Swiss cheesing my brain,
“The night of my car wreck, how could I have been in a spirit state observing the physical world?”

A passion grew inside me that drove me to create,
and my skills honed to the point where I could create an abstract photograph from any light source.
A couple of week after my granddaughter Emily Payne was born on my mother’s birthday 4 Jan 2004,
I flew out to Las Vegas to try my hand at creating abstracts from the plethora of Vegas lights.
I focused on targets light the fountains at the Bellagio.


As I swiftly swung the camera side to side, cars would stop on Las Vegas Boulevard to ask me what I was doing.
I would show them some of the abstracts, and they would say that they were really cool.
The positive feedback propelled me in the creation of thousands of abstract photographs.
I have created some many images that I have not seen them all myself.

Caught up in the passion of creation on 17 Jan 2004, I pointed my D100 at the Paris Casino neon balloon.
As I clicked the shutter, I twisted the camera. Feeling something special had happened, I looked at the images.


Upon returning to Atlanta, abstract images were filling my every thought.
Even my sleeping hours were ravaged by an on slot of abstract images.
One night I awoke from a dream where I saw one of my abstract images reflected like a Rorschach ink blot.
I went to my computer, and I made my first reflection.


My mind was trashed being filled with blurs of colors and abstract images.
I began to try and resolve this dilemma by organizing my thoughts using the abstract reflections.
I call the technique Montaj.


Over the Summer of 2004, Dale Chihuly had an exhibit of his glass sculptures at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens.
The show was called, “A New Species of Art.”
I spent day after day at the exhibit creating thousands of abstract photographs from Chihuly glass.


From these abstract images, my Montaj expressions became storyboards telling about the life that I was living.
My original plan was to write a book, but life was happening way too fast for me to stop
and type out all the impressions that were scattering though my mind.
I can write a book from the below peace.


By the Fall of 2004, my ability to create abstracts from any light source had become boring,
and the creation of Montaj images became my main focus.
At times, I would sit at the computer typing my thoughts,
and then open up a Montaj to let my mind race though the collage of thoughts.
In October of 2004, I struck a chord with the Montaj that began to give me the answers I so desperately wanted.


The background of forever is an abstract photograph of Dale Chihuly glass reflected
and then that reflection is reflected creating a four way reflection.
With forever in hand, I went to the Immaculate Conception Shrine to talk with Monsignor Henry Gracz.
I told Henry about my family history, and how his Church rests on stones quarried and placed by my family.
I told Henry of my death, and I presented a Montaj like the one I left for you at the Aladdin.

I asked Henry, “If a Christ were alive today, how long would they have before the world took them out?”
Henry just looked at me, so I said, “Fifteen minutes?” Henry stared at the painting above the fire place and I said, “Five minutes?”
I said, “In those five minutes, I think I know what Christ will do.” Henry asked, “What would that be?”

I said, “Christ would write on a piece of paper, Jesus the Christ,
and then scratch out the “the” and write an “a” making it read Jesus a Christ
thus elevating everyone to their level eliminating the desire for people to kill them.”

As I was about to leave I told Henry,
“If my writings are correct, something great is going to happen in December.”
Henry said, “Let’s hope it is something good.” I bowed my head in acknowledgement wishing for the event to be positive.

In those weeks with emotions running on high, an equation emerged from the forever Montaj.
I knew that trying to explain myself would be near impossible,
so I decided to try to give my equation away to those that inspired me in my creation.
I began going to concerts, and I would give artwork to the bands with a hand drawn equation on the back.
I would ask for their signatures on a separate abstract photograph.
From the ticket stub, and the band’s signatures, I would create a Montaj marking the passage of the event.
The first band Montaj was created from the signatures of Shinedown.


Within a month of that first Montaj on 26 Dec 2004, the great quake struck Andaman Indonesia.
Since the quake was across the international dateline from Atlanta,
the quake struck at 19:59 EST on December 25th. I was conceived in 1959.
After the quake, I enshrined the artwork given to Henry.
Below is a link to the shrine that contains the original work in the center.


On 8 Apr 2005 the day that Pope John Paul Ii laid to rest, I stood in the Cathedral of Saint Philip.
I held my camera up to the light beaming through the stained glass windows,
and I said out loud, “Father. Give me a sign that the world can see.”
After a couple of clicks of the shutter, I felt myself physically moved.


Over the next few years, my main focus was creating band signature Montaj images.
Many an hour was spent waiting behind venues not knowing if I would be lucky enough to get the band’s signatures.
As I write this letter to you, I have no idea if I will cross paths with you.
Time will tell. Below is a link to some of the band signature Montaj creations.
Click on the smaller images to enlarge them.


I tried getting 3 Doors Down signatures when you were at the Gwinnett Center in Duluth Ga on 20 Dec 2008.
Gary Pettus was hesitant about helping me get the band’s signatures. Gary had a Tom come out and talk with me.
I explained what I was doing, and Tom agreed to take one of my abstract photographs back stage to be signed.
He told me to wait, but he never came back, and never returned my calls.

Since art galleries want nothing to do with my work, I went to the Atlanta High Museum to measure their space.
I used a 3D computer modeling program to recreate the space, and I placed my art on the virtual walls.
I rendered a video of what my artwork would look like to me walking though the Atlanta High museum.
I took a Blu-Ray of the video down to the Woodruff Arts Center,
and I told them that they really should have a show of my work while I am alive and can sign them.
Below is a link to my masterpiece.


For the longest time,
I thought my last band signature Montaj was going to be the one that I created on the tenth anniversary of 911 for the band “10 Years”


I was completely stratified ending my creation of band signature Montaj images,
until recently when Alter Bridge came to the Tabernacle.
Thus I broke out the abstracts, and secured the band’s signatures.
Brian Marshall was most complimentary calling my art unique,
Mark Tremonti remembered me from months before,
and Myles Kennedy listened to me tell him about the equation with an open mind.
As Myles and I parted ways, we shook hands saying to each other at almost the same time, “Pleasure”


My artistic expression began with an epiphany at Stoned Mountain Park while listing to a band named 3 Doors Down.
Your lyrics opened my mind providing me a driving passion to stand on during my creation.
The above words are in no way enough to say thank you for the inspiration.