Photo-Artistry by kenne
Walking with the girl
I miss her stroking my soul
A watchtower’s voice.
— kenne
Author Archive
Walking With The Girl Leave a comment
Ocotillo Blossoms Leave a comment
Ocotillo Blossoms — Image by kenne
This gray stick of thorns
Will blossom the torch of peace
Loved by hummingbirds.
— kenne
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Six Seconds of Terror Leave a comment
This is one mean bull. We stayed overnight in Cripple Creek a few years back — great little town with lots of little storefront casinos.
Went to the Top of the World Rodeo in Cripple Creek today… not much of an effort as the event is about two blocks from my house…
I have hundreds of images to process and a fair amount of video, but I had to get this clip out right away! Jimmy the bull didn’t want to go back into the pen after his ride… When they finally got him back behind the gate he decided he didn’t want to stay… six seconds of terror ensued, watch to the end!
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Aspen Loop One Year Out After The Big Horn Fire 5 comments
SCVN Friday hikes on Mt. Lemmon have
Begun with more excitement than usual,
Last year’s hikes being a casualty of the
Big Horn Fire and the pandemic.
Marshall Gulch Parking Area
Leaving behind morning temperatures
In the mid-eights, we gathered at Marshall Gulch
To hike the Aspen Loop, combining the Aspen
And Marshall Gulch trails for a 4.3-mile hike.
Marshall Gulch survived the fire, as did
Most of the trail. But the Aspen Trail
Wasn’t so lucky with parts that burned
From the 1993 Aspen Fire burning again.
Aspen Trail (June 15, 2015)
Over the years, I watch aspens and pines
And many other native plants return
Among the charred remains of the Aspen Fire
Only now to experience that same fate.
Last year’s fires were followed by the driest year
On record, delaying the reclamation process
And trail clearing to provide for safe hiking
On the grayest powder covering the trails.
The mountain ferns were among the plants
To return only weeks after containing the fire,
Providing hope to those grieving over the lose
Of so much beauty found on these mountain trails.
Now so exposed, the trail seems longer
Each step requiring a watchful eye
For this out of shape hiker, navigating
The loose gravel and ankle turning rocks.
Just beyond the ridge, a line of trees
Was missed by the very erratic wildfire
As if it turned on a dime, redirecting
The firefighting crew from Montana.
Soon the trail turns away from the freshly
Scared land rambling among tall ponderosas
Shadows formed by the whole clear
Cloudless sky moving across the trail.
Images by kenne
I’ve hiked the trails on Mt. Lemmon
Now ten summers, where troubles cease,
untangled silent knowledge contemplating
A void in a world that exceeds stillness.
— kenne
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Hawking Pizza In Tucson Leave a comment
Hawking Pizza In Tucson — Image by kenne
Hot days of summer
One hundred ten in Tucson
Always pizza time.
— kenne
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The Rose Garden 3 comments
White Roses — Photo-Artistry by kenne
T. S. Eliot’s poem, Burnt Norton, begins:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
Still in the first section:
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on the bowl of rose leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrust? Into our first world.
The first section ends:
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Eliot’s entire poem, which in the present, captures both the past and future.
The rose garden is an idyllic place that can never be fully realized but is present in every moment.
It is the present that captures all of the temporality and hence all of our possibilities.
The concepts of “past, present, and future” are merely abstractions, and the only real reason
we can make these distinctions is because of the present experience. Thus, time is a metaphorical
“hall of mirrors” — where the present encapsulates all that has occurred and all of what is to come.
It is through the reflection of the present that we can see all time.
— kenne
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Forest Floor 6 comments
Forest Floor — Mixed Art by kenne
— kenne
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Pond Slider — No Words Friday Leave a comment
Pond Slider (Lake Houston, October 25, 2013) — HDR Image by kenne
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To the man, to the woman . . . 2 comments
Photo-Artistry by kenne
To the man, to the woman
who utilized their
energies, goodness, strength,
anger, love, tenderness,
to those who truly
alive
flowered,
and in their sensuality matured,
let us not apply
the measure
of a time
that may be
something else, a mineral
mantle, a solar
bird, a flower,
something, maybe,
but not a measure.
Time, metal
or bird, long
petiolate flower,
stretch
through
man’s life,
shower him
with blossoms
and with
bright
water
or with hidden sun.
I proclaim you
road,
not shroud,
a pristine
ladder
with treads
of air,
a suit lovingly
renewed
through springtimes
around the world.
— from Ode To Age by Pablo Neruda
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Capturing the Moment — Self-Reflection Leave a comment
Self-reflection is like a daily exercise, often reflected in word and image. The original photo for this photo-artistry was taken in one of our favorite cities, New Orleans — now many years ago. Is it not all an illusion? — kenne
Self-Reflection — Image by kenne
The store-window of corner dreams,
presents a looking glass through which
onlookers reflect as they are reflected.
Each gaze joined in time and space
where art becomes life and life becomes art.
Which is real?
kenne
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Black Saddlebags Dragonfly 3 comments
Black Saddlebags Dragonfly — Image by kenne
Saddlebags skimmer
A large black blotch on each wing
Ready to travel.
— kenne
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Variegated Fritillary Butterfly with Rough Edges Leave a comment
Variegated Fritillary Butterfly — Image by kenne
The edges are rough
Fluidity in motion
Good but not perfect.
— kenne
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Granite Ridge Leave a comment
Wilderness of Rocks Trail In The Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
Piute Creek
BY GARY SNYDER
One granite ridge
A tree, would be enough
Or even a rock, a small creek,
A bark shred in a pool.
Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted
Tough trees crammed
In thin stone fractures
A huge moon on it all, is too much.
The mind wanders. A million
Summers, night air still and the rocks
Warm. Sky over endless mountains.
All the junk that goes with being human
Drops away, hard rock wavers
Even the heavy present seems to fail
This bubble of a heart.
Words and books
Like a small creek off a high ledge
Gone in the dry air.
. . . continue reading
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Little Potted Cactus On The Patio Leave a comment
Little Potted Cactus On The Patio — Image by kenne
“Its object of desire being infinite, art’s movement will
never cease to be carried perpetually forward, for it
will never discover a limit to what it seeks.”
— Saint Gregory of Nyassa
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Happiness 4 comments
Happiness — Image by kenne
I remember sitting there looking out over the valley,
there was such a sense of circumstance.
You know, that feeling that this is happiness.
It was the moment, right then.
— kenne
