Aspen Fall Colors On Mt. Lemmon — Abstract Art by kenne
A tangle of leaves
Shimmering in a light breeze
To its own music.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Aspen Draw’ Category
Aspen Fall Colors On Mt. Lemmon — Abstract Art Leave a comment
Aspen Draw Trail — Fall Colors 1 comment
Aspen Draw Trail On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Walk the mountain trails
Beauty is all around us
Never to forget.
The words miss the mark
If only they could capture
The moment in time.
So, we keep trying
To share visual moments
And all its beauty.
— kenne
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The Blast of The Self 1 comment
An Aspen Fall — Photo-Artistry by kenne
In a letter dated 4/26/03, by brother Tom wrote:
“I am in the midst of ‘trying’ to memorize a poem . . .
‘Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour’ by Wallace Stevens . . .
never mind why . . .
although the exercise was triggered by a piece by
George Steiner in which he wrote:
‘The danger is that the text or music will lose what physics
calls its ‘critical mass,’ its implosive powers within
the echo chambers of the self.'”
Tom was aware that what is committed to memory
and susceptible to recall constitutes “The Blast of The Self,”
an intensity of outward attention — interest, curiosity,
a healthy obsession was a motivation stronger
even than love or hatred or fear.
— kenne
Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour
Light the first light of evening, as in a room
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.
This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,
Out of all the indifferences, into one thing:
Within a single thing, a single shawl
Wrapped tightly round us, since we are poor, a warmth,
A light, a power, the miraculous influence.
Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves.
We feel the obscurity of an order, a whole,
A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous.
Within its vital boundary, in the mind.
We say God and the imagination are one…
How high that highest candle lights the dark.
Out of this same light, out of the central mind,
We make a dwelling in the evening air,
In which being there together is enough.
— Wallace Stevens
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Aspen Colors On Mt. Lemmon Leave a comment
Aspen Colors On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
LEAVES
Dearly beloved, we are gathered
here together today to look into
the face of the river.
One of us has stayed at home
to rake the leaves,
gathering those poor tears
shed for the rest of us.
If there is one among you
who sees in the face of the river
your own, please step forward
and identify the source of your
wealth. If not, can you give us
a thumbnail sketch
of the important philosophers
in Golden Greece?
An old cedar stood by,
simply thankful she existed.
And a young fox, who had
neither dreams nor feelings
in the French.
And the one at a distance
raking the leaves did not
think of them as tears,
but as simple toil, conducted
without compromise.
In the sweet fresh morning
how good it was to be alone
with potato paring filling
his mind. To whom should he speak?
There was no one but the leaves
and the leaves did not feel
he had anything worth saying.
— Mary Ruefle
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Hiking the Aspen Draw Loop 1 comment
The July 5th SCVN Friday Hikes began at the Sky Valley parking lot
where led guide Phil Bentley greeted everyone and covered the SCVN Safety Rules.
This was a six-mile loop connecting three trails, (Aspen Draw, Mt. Lemmon Trail,
and the Meadow Trail) with an elevation gain of 1,200 feet.
One of the interest points on this hike was the Lemmon Rock Lookout staffed by the Forest Service personnel.
The original tower was erected in 1928.
On this day we were able to get a tour of the Lookout
since Phil called ahead and talked to the Forest Ranger on duty at the Lookout this summer.
The Osborne Fire Finder.
View down into the Tucson Basin and the Santa Rita Mountains.
After the tour, we took a snack break before continuing the hike.
A little music from our leader.
Always a fun time hiking in the Santa Catalina Mountains. — Images by kenne
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Hiking Under The Fall Colors 4 comments
Fall Colors, Hiking On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Shadows on the trail
Hiking on a golden hill
Look, but don’t look back.
— kenne
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Sunlight Through The Aspens Leave a comment
Sunlight Through The Aspens on Mt. Lemmon– Computer Painting by kenne
When the mind’s eye rests on objects illuminated by truth and reality,
it understands and comprehends them, and functions intelligently;
but when it turns to the twilight world of change and decay,
it can only form opinions, its vision is confused and its beliefs shifting,
and it seems to lack intelligence.
— Plato, Republic
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Mt. Lemmon Autumn Colors Leave a comment
Mt. Lemmon Autumn Colors — Image by kenne
I watch my every step on the trail
not willing to taste the dirt from another fall
on these Santa Catalina Mountains trails.
These mountains are a heaven worth having
where little is said when you are not listening
to the passing of another autumn season.
A gust of wind stirs-up the fallen leaves
one more time before the first snowfall
covers the trails for the winter.
I thought I would hike this trail the last time
before returning to the desert trails
in search of new spiritual connections.
Now we seek to make it through the Holidays
with a family who tries as they may
to connect the disconnected one more time.
— kenne
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Fall Leaves At Peace Leave a comment
Fall Leaves at Peace — Image by kenne
Fall leaves at peace
still
holding raindrops
coming in the darkness
of night, understated,
still,
I wish the drops
would soak the leaves
as if to give them life
again,
connecting the ground,
breathing.
— kenne
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Leaves On The Ground Leave a comment
Leaves On the Ground (Mt. Lemmon) — Image by kenneAutumn Song
Leaves of brown they fall to the ground
And it’s here, over there leaves around
Shut the door, dim the lights and relax
What is more, your desire or the facts
Pitter patter the rain falling down
Little glamor sun coming round
Take a walk when autumn comes to town
Little stroll past the house on the hill
Some more coal on the fire will do well
And in a week or two it’ll be Halloween
Set the page and the stage for the scene
Little game the children will play
And as we watch them while time away
Look at me and take my breath away yeah
You’ll be smiling eyes beguiling
And the song on the breeze
Will call my name out and your dream
Chestnuts roasting outside as you walk
With your love by your side
The old accordion man plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night
Little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
Just might feel like singing Autumn song
Just may feel like singing Autumn song
You’ll be smiling
Eyes beguiling
And the song on the breeze
Calls my name out in your dream
Chestnuts roasting outside
As you walk with your love by your side
And the old accordion plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night
Little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
Just might feel like singing Autumn song
Just may feel like singing Autumn song
You’ll be smiling
Eyes beguiling
And the song on the breeze
Calls my name out in your dream
–Van Morrison
Autumn Song, by Van Morrison (Video)
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Pathways Leave a comment
“Woodlands” (Aspen Draw Trail on Mt. Lemmon) — Computer Art by kenne
As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth,
so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind.
To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again.
To make a deep mental path, we must think
over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.
–Henry David Thoreau
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“counter–love, original response” Leave a comment
“Live Covering Death” — Image by kenne
Now that I have more time to search for a source of inspiration larger than or outside of myself, I desire to generate creative expression my combining poetry and visual art. It is not always easy to tease out the imagination in words or a visual image, but when combined one may be able to create analogous worlds. Edward Hirsch, in Transforming Vision stated that this process is similar to what Robert Frost called “counter-love, original response.”
The Most of It
He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree–hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder–broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter–love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush—and that was all.
— Robert Frost
PS: I find inspiration in visual images, whether my own or that of others, from which I try to blend visual and verbal eloquence. One of the best examples of inspiration from visual art is Wallace Stevens “Man with the Blue Guitar” on Pablo Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist.”
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Hooker’s Evening Primrose Painting Leave a comment
Hooker’s Evening Primrose — Computer Art by kenne
MOUNTAIN HIKE
Yellow flowers
lining the
mountain road
cabins perched
beneath the pines
gray squirrels
raiding bird feeders
morning sunlight
intensifying
the deep blue sky
trekking poles
balancing
propelling
reducing stress
providing
additional contact
as breathing
rate increases
— kenne
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Fall On Mt. Lemmon Leave a comment
The Woods Near Aspen Draw On Mt. Lemmon In The Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
The higher elevations of the Santa Catalina Mountains provide plenty of fall colors from the variety of vegetation — bedstraw, bigtooth maple, cliffbush, corkbark fir, Douglas-fir, Gambel oak,mountain parsley, mountain snowberry, New Mexico locust, New Mexico raspberry, quaking aspen, Rocky Mountain maple, silverleaf oak,southwestern white pine and white fir.
— kenne
“Instead of just recording reality,
photographs have become the norm for the way things appear to us,
thereby changing the very idea of reality, and of realism.”
— Susan Sontag
Becoming is Superior to Being 