End of Blackett’s Ridge Trail — Image by kenne
End Of The Trail Leave a comment
“The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.
Show Us Your Tits Leave a comment
Show Us Your Tits — Image by kenne
Texas Ice House Blues
The year was 2007
The place was Drifter’s
In deep east Texas.
A Sunday afternoon
Where Mean Gene’s blues
Energized the crowd.
The sun and humidity
Kept the iced beer flowing
On this mid-summer day
Never underestimate
The power of the blues
Penetrating the piney woods
Bodies jiving to the music
Tits start popping out if
Only for a brief moment.
— kenne
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Abstract Art Leave a comment
Abstract Art by kenne
We are all hungry and thirsty for concrete images.
Abstract art will have been good for one thing:
to restore its exact virginity to figurative art.
— Salvador Dali
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We All Depend Upon Each Other 2 comments
Desert Walk — Image by kenne
We all depend upon each other, plants, and animals, not to mention the life-bestowing conglomerates:
Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Every living person is part of a give-and-take network that entails considerable suffering
as well as joy. This largely mysterious ambiance constitutes nature as experienced by—and affected by—you and me.
— Alexander Eliot
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Here Comes The Sun Leave a comment
Cactus Blooms In The Morning Sun On Our Patio — Image by kenne
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Sedona Tourists 1 comment
Sedona Tourists — Image by kenne
Intolerance is the father of illusion and evil deeds.
Tolerance is not its opposite; tolerance is neutral.
The opposite of intolerance is creative imagination,
sympathetically exercised in the service of ever-illusive truth.
— Alexander Eliot
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Blue Abstract 3 comments
Abstract Art by kenne
A certain blue enters your soul
— Henri Matisse
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Big Smile, Say Cheese 2 comments
Big Smile, Say Cheese (Red Rock Canyon) — Image by kenne
“Everyone knows that not all change is good or even necessary. But in a world that is constantly changing,
it is to our advantage to learn how to adapt and enjoy something better.”
— from Who Moved The Cheese? by Spencer Johnson
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Breaking With Tradition Leave a comment
Nags Head Outer Banks, NC — Image by kenne
You must be in tune with the times and prepared to break with tradition.
— James Agee
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A Light Exists In Spring Leave a comment
Saguaro Family — Image by kenne
A Light Exists In Spring
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
— Emily Dickinson
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Saguaro Sunrise 1 comment
Saguaro Sunrise — Image by kenne
In the morning sun
A tall cactus guardian
Shadows over me.
— kenne
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It’s Breakfast Time In The Desert 4 comments
White-winged Dove Eating Saguaro Fruit — Image by kenne
Nobody is around.
The desert is quiet,
so tell me, what’s
on your mind?
Use the words
to begin a poem.
— kenne
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What’s The Word? Leave a comment
Curve-billed Thrasher — Image by kenne
For a while I could not remember some word
I was in need of,
and I was bereaved and said: where are you,
beloved friend?
— Mary Oliver
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It Seemed A Better Way 2 comments
Photo-artistry by kenne
It seemed the better way
When first I heard him speak
Now it’s much too late
To turn the other cheek
Sounded like the truth
Seemed the better way
Sounded like the truth
But it’s not the truth today
— from It Seemed the Better Way by Leonard Cohen
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Drinks and Conversation 2 comments
Drinks and Conversations at the Corner Pub — Photo-artistry by kenne (2005)
in the shadow of the rose
branching out, grubbing down,
taking stairways down to hell,
reestablishing the vanishing
point, trying a different
bat, a different stance,
altering diet and manner of
walking, readjusting the
system, photographing your
dinosaur dream,
driving your machine with
more grace and care,
noticing the flowers talking
to you,
realizing the gigantic agony
of the terrapin,
you pray for rain like an
Indian,
slide a fresh clip into the
automatic,
turn out the lights and
wait.
— Charles Bukowski
