Flame Skimmer — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The dragonfly brings dreams to reality and is the messenger
of wisdom and enlightenment from other realms.
— Unknown
Archive for the ‘Art’ Category
Flame Skimmer Art 1 comment
The dragonfly brings dreams to reality and is the messenger
Shuttered From The Heat Leave a comment
Tucson Window — Sketching by kenne
Desert’s mid-day sun
We seek cool places inside
Shuttered from the heat.
— kenne
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Panoramic View From The Patio Leave a comment
Panoramic View From The Patio After Monsoon Rains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
clouds hug the mountains
after monsoon rains move on
my heart leaps with joy
— kenne
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Dove In Mesquite Tree 2 comments
White-winged Dove In Mesquite Tree — Photo-Artistry by kenne
we have eye connect
can she see into my soul
we will never know
— kenne
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Tucson El Presidio Window Leave a comment
Tucson El Presidio District Window — Photo-Artistry by kenne
old Presidio
where Tucson’s history lives
around each corner
— kenne
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Glass Blower 2 comments
Glass Blower — HDR Image by kenne
an artist at work
she skillfully creates art
as people pass by
— kenne
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Bee On Chicory Wildflower Leave a comment
Bee On Chickory Wildflower — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The monsoon season has begun the second-hottest and second-driest on record in Arizona, where heat records
are frequently broken last year. The last two years have seen fewer desert downpours, an important source of
summer river flow.
“We’re dealing with a rapidly changing climate that is becoming, overall, more dry and varied and warmer,”
said Scott Wilbor, an ecologist in Tucson who studies desert river ecosystems, including the San Pedro.
“We are in uncharted territory.” Click here to learn about the importance of Sonoran Desert rivers.
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Wildflowers (July 30, 2014)– Grunge Art Leave a comment
Wildflowers (July 30, 2014) — Grunge Art by kenne
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Saguaro Sunrise 1 comment
Saguaro Sunrise — Photo-Artistry by kenne
saguaro sunrise
just above the canyon ridge
shadows in the dark
— kenne
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The Lone Hiker Leave a comment
The Lone Hiker — Photo-Artistry by kenne
now in his eighties
living moment by moment
carries a message
time past time present
both in time future
— kenne
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Scorpionweed Leave a comment
Scorpionweed — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The world isn’t just the way it is. It is how we understand it, no?
And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no?
Doesn’t that make life a story?”
― from Life of Pi by
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Little Cactus On Mt. Lemmon Leave a comment
Little Cactus On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The most visible creators I know of are
those artists whose medium is life itself.
The ones who express the inexpressible —
without brush, hammer, clay, or guitar.
They neither paint nor sculpt — their
medium is being. Whatever their presence
touches has increased life. They see and
don’t have to draw. They are the artists of
being alive.
— J. Stone
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Cactus Blossom Art 1 comment
Cactus Blossom Art by kenne
Beauty blossoms forth
Each single moment leaving
A place in my heart.
— kenne
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Life Is All About Perspectives 1 comment
‘Weed’ On the Patio — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I have subscribed to The New Yorker for years and find it helpful to see things from different perspectives; some I like, some I don’t. Many great writers, some of which I agree with, some I don’t. It’s all a matter of perspective, which is what this poem is all about — It’s only boogie-woogie.
BOOGIE-WOOGIE
You shout from the other room
You ask me how to spell boogie-woogie
And instantly I think what luck
no war has been declared
no fire has consumed
our city’s monuments
our bodies our dwellings
The fiver didn’t flood
no friends
have been arrested
It’s only boogie-woogie
I sign relieved
and say it’s spelled just as it sounds
boogie-woogie
— Adam Zagajewski (The New Yorker, July 5, 2021)
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Nothingness 2 comments
Brother Tom at the Fish Market Window in Seattle — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Nothingness
Staring out the window
nothing comes into view,
fog drafts off the sound
It doesn’t matter
if nothing is seen,
gaze drafts afar
Even the usual seagulls
are overlooked,
even their calls
It is as if my senses
have ceased,
for the duration
Standing at the window
in my solitude,
fade into nothingness
Yet, still waiting
in my loneliness,
the vacuum to end.
— kenne
