I can’t think of bluebirds without thinking of Tom Russell’s song, “Blue Wing” — one of my favorite. Both help me see the sky above.
— kenne
Blue Wing by Tom Russell
He had a blue wing tattooed on his shoulder Well it might have been a bluebird I don’t know But he’d get stone drunk and talk about Alaska The salmon boats and 45 below
He said he got that blue wing up in Walla Walla And his cellmate there was Little Willy John And Willy he was once a great blues singer And Wing and Willy wrote ’em up a song. They said…
CHORUS: It’s dark in here; can’t see the sky But I look at this blue wing and I close my eyes And I fly away beyond these walls Up above the clouds where the rain don’t fall On a poor man’s dream.
They paroled Blue Wing in August, of 1963 He moved north picking apples to the town of Wenatchee Then winter finally caught him in a run down trailer park On the south side of Seattle where the days grow gray and dark
And he drank and he dreamt of visions when the salmon still ran free And his fathers’ fathers crossed that wild old Bering Sea And the land belonged to everyone and there were old songs yet to sing Now it’s narrowed down to a cheap hotel and a tattooed prison wing
CHORUS: It’s dark in here; can’t see the sky But I look at this blue wing and I close my eyes And I fly away beyond these walls Up above the clouds where the rain don’t fall On a poor man’s dream.
Spiritual enlightenment can be reached through relaxing in a thought bubble causing a comfortable feeling with being a completely ordinary person becoming vulnerable to the world.
I gently rub my beard in deep thought distracted only by an occasional butterfly passing by in the middle of the day.
I savor the moment rubbing white whiskers navigating through mind droppings reaching out to catch a falling star.
The desert sky bluer than the bluest of blues a backdrop to sun-scalded red creating visuals turning to words honed by the soul itching to be scratched.
American politics causes me to look away, to look away to nature for other images to cradle my shaken emotions, images that help awaken the shared suffering of broken hearts, which have become symbolic victims of our times as we
seek the rapture associated with being alive.
— kenne
Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again.
This time of year the migrating turkey vultures come gliding and circling in each afternoon from the north landing in the large trees along the Tanque Verde Wash. Our home is about 100 yards up from the wash, so it’s easy to watch for migrating birds. The next morning like clockwork, they start circling up around 9:00 am continuing their return to Mexico.
Western Bluebird — Image by kenne
Computer Painting by kenne 
Painted Lady Butterfly — Image by kenne
American Snout Butterfly — Image by kenne
Images by kenne
Rainbow Clouds — Computer Painting by kenne
Indigo Blue (First Posted September 2012) — Image by kenne
