Wednesday, December 28, 2011
I first saw this particular donkey about 8 months ago. It was raining lightly and there was a slight fog. He was much closer to the stand of bamboo. Alas, I was unprepared to take a picture at that moment, though I have the image retained quite clearly in my memory. Since that day, I have carried my camera at the ready each time I have gone past this site in hopes of catching the picture of the donkey with the bamboo in the background. No less than twenty passings of this site and yet no glimpse of the donkey - until Christmas Eve-eve.
A car-load of people, my mom and dad included, all looked at me as though I was mad, as we stopped alongside of the road and called to the donkey trying to get him to look up. No luck on the looking up bit, however I did get several shots.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Silence by Edgar Lee Masters
I HAVE known the silence of the stars and of the sea,
And the silence of the city when it pauses,
And the silence of a man and a maid,
And the silence for which music alone finds the word,
And the silence of the woods before the winds of spring begin,
And the silence of the sick
When their eyes roam about the room.
And I ask: For the depths
Of what use is language?
A beast of the field moans a few times
When death takes its young.
And we are voiceless in the presence of realities—
We cannot speak.
A curious boy asks an old soldier
Sitting in front of the grocery store,
"How did you lose your leg?"
And the old soldier is struck with silence,
Or his mind flies away
Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg.
It comes back jocosely
And he says, "A bear bit it off."
And the boy wonders, while the old soldier
Dumbly, feebly lives over
The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon,
The shrieks of the slain,
And himself lying on the ground,
And the hospital surgeons, the knives,
And the long days in bed.
But if he could describe it all
He would be an artist.
But if he were an artist there would he deeper wounds
Which he could not describe.
There is the silence of a great hatred,
And the silence of a great love,
And the silence of a deep peace of mind,
And the silence of an embittered friendship,
There is the silence of a spiritual crisis,
Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured,
Comes with visions not to be uttered
Into a realm of higher life.
And the silence of the gods who understand each other without speech,
There is the silence of defeat.
There is the silence of those unjustly punished;
And the silence of the dying whose hand
Suddenly grips yours.
There is the silence between father and son,
When the father cannot explain his life,
Even though he be misunderstood for it.
There is the silence that comes between husband and wife.
There is the silence of those who have failed;
And the vast silence that covers
Broken nations and vanquished leaders.
There is the silence of Lincoln,
Thinking of the poverty of his youth.
And the silence of Napoleon
And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc
Saying amid the flames, "Blesséd Jesus"—
Revealing in two words all sorrow, all hope.
And there is the silence of age,
Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it
In words intelligible to those who have not lived
The great range of life.
And there is the silence of the dead.
If we who are in life cannot speak
Of profound experiences,
Why do you marvel that the dead
Do not tell you of death?
Their silence shall be interpreted
As we approach them.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Ponies roam free on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. They have an affect of nonchalance supported by law that states they have the absolute right of way. From the surf and dunes to finding shade in carports, family units called harems, exhibit companionship, protectiveness and sometimes fierce loyalty.
Monday, May 30, 2011
This is a painting inspired by an evening walk along the Danube in Pest. The Danube is enormous and majestic and in the twilight time, both sky colors and lights along the Buda side, dance in the water. This is my first take on the scene and I do suspect there will be more, as the power and magic of the image remain visible to me each time I close my eyes.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
My breeze series was inspired by tibetan prayer flags. While 'breeze1' is a different view, the remaining three take variations of the same painted image. Varying background, brightness and adding color to complete the series.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
|silhouette - in a cloud|
|silhouette - a cloud through the raindrops|
|silhouette - coffee in a cloud|
|silhouette - color in a cloud|
A rainy day in the mountains of North Carolina. Headed up to the Lake James area then on to Blowing Rock, hoping for nice enough weather to hike around a bit and take some pics. Instead, rather robust rain, fog, and the higher we got, the settling of clouds over the area.
Sitting with my lovely daughter and nearly perfect husband at Canyons in Blowing Rock, enveloped in a cloud, photos were taken and provided the inspiration for this series.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Above the original shot, bright white fungus reflects the midday light, zoomed in, then cropped. To the right, the full size of the original shot, with a bit of color added to emphasize the mossy surroundings.