With his art, he roamed the world

"And I got the South Pole, the actual South Pole," he told the Globe in 2004. "This guy, a scientist, enlarged my art, printed it out, and placed it at the bottom of the pole. 'Oh my God, I don't believe this,' I thought. I have somebody who will do Victoria Falls in Zambia, the largest falls in the world. I got one from the southern desert of Iran, way out in the middle of nowhere, and there's my butterfly."

A man who preferred solitude, he found that his art project created relationships with scores of people around the world, some of whom he communicated with through translators. Mr. Siwak died Tuesday of complications from ALS in Quincy Medical Center, where he moved near the end of his illness. He was 58.

"I think he was the first person in the world to get his artwork photographed in every country," said his brother Marty of Topsfield. "He found these incredible people who became his friends and e-mailed him -- became his pen pals, if you will."

For Mr. Siwak, who said he merely dabbled in art before ALS took away his ability to work for a living, the project was about more than just creativity or pride of accomplishment.

"With ALS you get so trapped," he told the Globe. "Your mind is alert and thinks of all these things to do, but you can't do them. It's a really bad disease. I wondered, 'How can I keep myself occupied and engaged?' "

A dozen years ago, when Mr. Siwak was a paralegal in San Francisco, "he always had a penchant for art -- drawings, photography, a little sculpture," his brother said. "Even his fish tank had this incredible structure inside, these little dioramas. He handmade all his artifacts inside the tank."

Diagnosed in 1998, Mr. Siwak moved back to New England to live closer to his three siblings. In the early years of the illness, he carved images into linoleum tiles, which he used to create prints. He also used a mouse to make computer-generated art.

"It takes months to carve each block because I'm adamant about doing everything myself," he told The ALS Newsletter in 2001.

As long as health permitted, he lived alone in North Shore apartments, including one in Rockport with a view of the ocean. He got the idea for the worldwide art project when personal care assistants began to help him with ordinary tasks. A health care worker took one of his pictures home to Guatemala, where she photographed it. She showed the result to Mr. Siwak and the project began.

Using a mouth-held device to type, he began sending e-mail around the world.

"I search the Internet," he told the Globe. "I'll pick a country and might, for example, look for an artist or photographer. I have a standard e-mail I send out explaining what I'm doing, and I wait to hear back."

Born in Wolcott, Conn., Mr. Siwak was the third of four children. He graduated in 1970 from Wolcott High School, and in 1974 from the University of Connecticut, where he majored in political science.

A few years as an employment specialist for the federal Comprehensive Employment Training Act program followed, before he moved to San Francisco.

"It's a bit like nightfall," he told the ALS Newsletter about experiencing initial symptoms while living in California. "The sun is getting gradually dimmer, but you don't really notice it until it's dark."

Before becoming ill, he liked to hike in the mountains and the deserts. After the diagnosis, he packed a van and drove a meandering 6,000-mile route to New England, visiting national parks he knew he'd never see again.

While Mr. Siwak lived in his North Shore apartments, he displayed his work in art shows. He also became an advocate for those with ALS, speaking to others with the illness.

"He would tell them how to work the program," his brother said. "One of his suggestions was that you have to keep calling the insurance company until you find someone who's a soft touch. You can't take the third or fourth 'no,' you have to keep calling back."

A service will be announced for Mr. Siwak, who also leaves another brother, Tom of Watertown, Conn., and a sister, Lois Appleby of the Fiskdale section of Sturbridge.

Two poems Mr. Siwak wrote, along with more than 150 photos of his artwork in various countries, can be found on a Virtual Tourist website: members.virtualtourist.com/m/8b6ad/

In the poem "If I Were Cured," he writes about the joy he would take hurling his wheelchair from a bridge, and about the pleasures of tasks everyone takes for granted:

I would work the worst day of my life and be grateful for the misery.
I would grasp the door handle, turn it and open the door, feeling like Hercules.

In the other poem, the travels Mr. Siwak made via his artwork seem to afford a small measure of peace. The poem titled "While You ..." begins by discussing the details travelers face, with the phrase "I sat in my wheelchair" acting as a refrain to complete each couplet. Mr. Siwak concludes the poem:

While you bathed in the sublime of your completed trip,
I sat, each and every day, in my wheelchair.
When I receive your photos of my art on your journey,
I am overjoyed in my wheelchair.