Archive for the ‘Guests’ Category

Sabino Canyon Brings Joy To ASHA Members From Around The Country   1 comment

ASHA Group (1 of 1) blog framedMembers of American Senior Housing Association with SCVN Guides Dan (Dusty) Granger and Ed Rawl (November 7, 2014) — Image by kenne

Images by kenne (Click on any of the tiled images for larger view in a slideshow format.)

This past week executives belonging to the American Senior Housing Association (ASHA) attended a conference at Loews Ventana Canyon Resort in Tucson. An arrangement was made months ago for members interested in hiking in Sabino Canyon to be shuttled the short distance from the resort to the canyon. Thirty members spent approximately 2 1/2 hours hiking led by Dan Granger, Ed Rawl, and myself. We divided into three hiking groups, one a less demanding hike led by Dan and two more difficult hikes led by Ed and me. The demanding hikes were four miles, combining several trails (Esperero, Rattlesnake, Phoneline Link, Phoneline, and Bear Canyon trails) looping into the canyon with an elevation change of 600 feet. Ed’s group went counterclockwise, and my group went clockwise around the designed loop. Meanwhile, Dan took those interested in a less demanding hike on trails the lower Sabino Canyon.

ASHA provides leadership for the seniors housing industry on legislative and regulatory matters, advances research, education, and the exchange of strategic business information, and promotes the merits of seniors housing. Located in Washington, DC, the membership represents businesses in North America, and for most, this was a perfect time to be in sunny Tucson. We did our best to add to their brief time in the Sonoran Desert.

— kenne

De Grazia — The Man Was In The Grove   1 comment

DeGrozia GalleryDe Grazia Gallery In The Sun, Tucson

One of my favorite places in Tucson is the De Grazia Gallery In The Sun — I go there every chance I get to learn about and admire the work of Ted De Grazia. The gallery is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and houses six permanent collections of paintings that  trace historical events and native cultures of the Southwest.

Having just learned of a new book, De Grazia – The Man and Myths, by James W. Johnson and Marilyn D. Johnson, I’m eager to buy it and learn more about De Grazia. In the following video, the authors talk about the making of their book.

Janie & David VisitFamily Visiting the Gallery While In Tucson

The Gallery In The Sun is a must stop for family and friends visiting us here in Tucson. 

DeGrozia GalleryOne of my favorite Ted DeGrazia paintings — Tambolero

De Grazia’s art work overshadows his skills as a musician and composer. A trumpeter, De Grazia had a “big band” orchestra during the 1930’s, which help pay his tuition at the University of Arizona where he earned a Master of Arts with his thesis, “Art and its Relation to Music in Music Education.” One of my favorite De Grazia painting is that of a drummer, “Tambolero,” which brings to mind Steve Gadd, one of the most well-known and highly regarded session and studio drummers in the industry. If you like big band jazz, you will love the following video, Steve Gadd & The Buddy Rich Big Band: Basically Blue.

Appalachian Mountain Club Hikes To Hutch’s Pool In The Santa Catalina Mountains   4 comments

Appalachian Mountain Club, April 8, 2014 Hiking the Hutch’s Pool trail in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Images by kenne
(Click on any of the “tiled” images to see larger view in a sladeshow format.)

The club members conducted this eight mile hike on a beautiful warm day (in the 90’s upon return). This was their third day of hikes in the Santa Catalina Mountains. The heat began to affect some, but nothing we were not able to handle with the help of SCVN member, Ed Rawl.

On the return one hiker started having a foot problem — now I know Ed hikes with several inserts in his backpack, so he was able to reduce some of the hiker’s pain on the way back. 
Ed also came to the aid of a hiker having stomach pains on our return in the heat of the day. He had her sit down, poured some of her water on her and proceeded to pour water from one of his “old sock” covered bottles of ice water into her empty bottle. In no time the hiker was feeling much better — thanks, Ed. Now I know what to do with my old socks.


Appalachian Mountain Club Hikes Blackett’s Ridge – II   Leave a comment

AMC Hiking Blackett’s Ridge, April 7, 2014. — Images and video by kenne
(Click on any of the tiled images to see a larger view in a slideshow.)

This is the second of two postings on AMC hike on Blackett’s Ridge. The 1st posting was on April 8th

Enjoy. The next AMC posting will be on hiking to Hutch’s Pool


Appalanhian Mountain Club Hikes To Romero Pools   Leave a comment

George Schott (co-leader) & Linda Moraski (leader)

George Schott (co-leader) & Linda Moraski (leader)

On April 6th, The Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) began a week of hiking in the Tucson area. The first hike started in Catalina State Park, following the Romero Pool Trail in the Push Ridge area of the Catalina mountains. Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalists, Tim Ralph and myself, along with Mike Harris, lead guide in the Southern Arizona Hiking Club, shared the roles of hosts and guides for the hiking group from the east.  The AMC Adventure Travel group of sixteen was under the leadership of Linda Moraski (leader) and George Schott (co-leader).

Additional postings of the AMC time in Tucson will take place over the next week. 



Images & Video by kenne

(Click on any of the following “tiled” images to see larger views in a slideshow.)

Artist Malcolm Alexander Moves Back To Santa Fe — Continuing The March To A Different Beat   9 comments

When we moved to Tucson three years ago, one of the first people we met and established a friendship was visual artist, Malcolm Alexander. Recently, for reasons of health, the 89-year-old Malcolm moved back to Santa Fe, where he can be closer to family and friends.

Malcolm is very missed — sights of the lumbering (6′ 5″) big man walking around the Circle; conversations at the pool; knocks at our door seeking help in finding his cell phone and his general question, “What’s the latest malicious gossip?” There were the times we went to lunch, and he would ask me questions about my philosophy of life, or the knocks at the door, just wanting to talk, which for Malcolm meant listening and observing — when it comes to people and politics, Malcolm’s more into asking questions than telling you what he thinks unless it has to do with living compositions.

“To this day, I admit, I’m always arranging and rearranging living compositions in my mind: Always. It can be a bit disconcerting at a dinner party when I’m staring at a beautiful woman attentively, and she feels flattered until I say, ‘Could you move three inches to the right and remove that goblet from the frame?’ Or to my hostess, ‘You know that painting behind you needs to be hung two inches lower to compliment you, and the height of the candlesticks is wrong for it.’ “

Malcolm AlexanderMalcolm Alexander — Images by kenne

“I distinguish between ‘living’ and ‘life.’ Living is an encounter. Life can be a lifeless existence in many cases. My art has been the conduit linking me to people, people from all walks of life. I have traveled from boardrooms to blue-collar environments, always looking, listening, and learning that each of us has a story to tell. In articles, I have been referred to as the ‘Studs Turkel’ of the art world.”
— Malcolm Alexander

Malcolm Alexander“. . . most people instinctively choose the security of harmony. An artist will choose chaos so that one can bring new order and harmony to it.”
— Malcolm Alexander

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Images from our “farewell” dinner for Malcolm.

On August 28th, a few friends of Malcolm had dinner at our house, the least we could do to show our friendship and love for Malcolm. As with his work, we hope Malcolm “. . . keeps moving toward a distant, unknown destination seemingly always just beyond his horizon.”

bocce ball on the greenDiane, Malcolm, Steve, and Marsha — Playing Bocce Ball On The Circle, March 2012

“My experiences in nature taught me that we are all One. There are peace and unity in Nature. When we destroy Nature, we destroy the soul.”
— Malcolm Alexander

In the brief time, I have known Malcolm, I have learned about the man, an artist with a restless mind, yet comfortable in stillness while desiring a lot of social stimulation. In his memoir, To Reason Why, you can see the influence of his lifelong association with Native Americans —

“For from being a brained-numbed soldier,
our artist is actually our child within,
our inner playmate.
As with all playmates, it is joy, not duty
that makes for a lasting bond.”
— Malcolm Alexander

Yes, my friend — “It does not require many words to speak the truth.” (Chief Joseph Nez Perce) You are a man who excels in what you do with quiet confidence.

May our paths cross again soon.


“There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day when we seem to see beyond the usual. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom. If one could but recall his vision by some sort of sign. It was in this hope that the arts were invented. Sign-posts on the way to what may be. Sign-posts toward greater knowledge.”
— Robert Henri

This is my third posting on our former neighbor:

You can see images of Malcolm’s work at the Ventana Fine Art Gallery website.

Do You Know A Veteran Like, Phil? They Are Out There — Mostly Forgotten!   1 comment

US Army Flickr Photostream, “Waiting out the dust storm” 

One of the blogs I link to is SO FAR FROM HEAVEN: OLD JULES. I enjoy Old Jules’s take on life. In one of today’s post, “My Original Veteran’s Day Post,” Old Jules writes about his old running buddy, Phil:

“I hadn’t thought about my old running buddy, Phil, for a while.  That last blog entry got me chewing on thoughts of him.  I’ll tell you a bit more about him.

Phil went to the Marine Corps as the result of being a 17 year old driving from Temple, Texas, to Austin with a case of beer in the car.  A Williamson County Sheriff Deputy stopped him on a tail light violation, asked for his driver’s license and saw the case of beer.  Old Phil, being a clever youth, gave the officer a Texas Drivers License with an altered date of birth, so’s to keep from being arrested as a minor in possession of alcoholic beverages.” Read more . . .


Posted November 12, 2011 by kenneturner in Guests, Information, Life, Peace & War

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Capturing The Word — An Irish Setter Puppy   1 comment

Guest writter: Kathy McNeily

Our good friend, Kathy shared the following poem. “Thought I would send this to you as I am not a poetry person, but wrote this in an attempt at poetry many years ago regarding the loss of a dear pet (those things have been happening a lot around here…) did the illustration as well,” she wrote. I would say she is a poetry person — we all are! Poetry is open, allowing entrance into the inter feelings of others.

Kathy recently lost another pet friend, which caused her to resurrect this poem written some years ago. I find it to be a beautiful marriage of feelings and emotions that when expressed in words is poetry.

“But, the fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side.”

An Irish Setter Puppy

She was red.
She was fluffy.
She was six weeks old.
She was an Irish Setter puppy.

They were young.
They were just married.
And not quite ready for a red, fluffy,
six-week-old Irish Setter puppy.

Everything was new.
Everything was exciting.
There were butterflies,
and bugs, and lizards,
and old shoes and new shoes.
Just for an Irish Setter puppy.

But no one is home.
There is nothing to do.
Just wait until they get home.
No fun for an Irish Setter puppy.

Until they get home there are plants,
and newspapers
and a pair of misplaced tennis shoes.
What fun for an Irish Setter puppy!

The fence isn’t very high.
There are open
fields on the other side. 
There are birds, and
kittens and other puppies
for the Irish Setter puppy.

She was red.
She was sleek.
She was six years old.
She was an Irish Setter.

They were older.
They were married six years.
And not quite ready for the baby.
Interesting for an Irish Setter.

But what is a baby?
It doesn’t do anything.  Much.
It lays there and they think it is cute.
It doesn’t play.
And it doesn’t want to be chewed on.
Frustrating to an Irish Setter.

The fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side. 
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs for the Irish Setter.

She was red.
She was mature.
She was nine years old.
She was an Irish Setter.

They were older.
There were married nine years.
And ready for another baby.
It was comfortable for an Irish Setter.

Children are fun!
They play with her.
They pet her.
They feed her.
They love her.

But, the fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side.
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs for the Irish Setter.

She was red with some gray.
She was getting stiff.
She coughed now and then.
She was twelve years old.
She was an Irish Setter.

They were mature.
They were married twelve years.
And not quite ready to say
“good-bye” to an Irish Setter.

But the fence is too high.
There are open fields on the other side.
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs,
but it’s too hard for the Irish Setter.

She was red.
She was soft.
She was twelve years old.
She was an Irish Setter.

They missed her.
But somewhere she is red.
She is fluffy
and Irish Setter puppy.

— Kathy McNeily


Art Gives Us Perspective To Life   Leave a comment

“Solar Power, Wind Assisted, Manually Operated Clothes Dryer” Image by cilipower

One of the things I like about blogging is discovering the work of artists around the globe. Of course, I also like it when others discover my work. That’s how I learned about cilipower, who commented on my posting, “The Vase of Life.”  As I usually do when receiving a comment, I visit their blog site, if they have one.  In doing so, it was refreshing to view her work — very creative fiber structures, especially “Solar Power, Wind Assisted, Manually Operated Clothes Dryer.”

Art is everywhere.
Products of becoming.
You will find it
When you give
Your heart to beauty,
Adding perspective to life.

You are encouraged to visit her site, cilipower.


Posted August 13, 2011 by kenneturner in Art, Guests

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Stardust and Choices — Guest Writer, Daniel Bruce Nettleton   Leave a comment

The previous posting, “My Stardust Memories — Revisited” generated a “like” response from writer and artist, Daniel Bruce Nettleton. Daniel is today’s guest writer, posting his poem, “Stardust and Choices.” You are encouraged to visit Daniel’s site,  “Words and Spaces.” 


Always reminding me that we’re apart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Steals across the meadows of my heart
And now the purple dusk of twilight time

In a land of martinis and cigarette ash-
a club called the Purple Crackle-
Bill had his own hook
(that coveted twenty minutes
of just piano and his trumpet
while the rest of the band was taking
a smoke break and hitting on young
girls) The old club owner used to make them
play what they unlovingly called “mickey music.”
This, because it all
sounded like the Mickey Mouse March.

But it was a chance to play and what twenty year old kid
wouldn’t jump at a chance to play?
They were so full of dreams and wide-eyed future.
They were so young.

You wander down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust of yesterday
The music of the years gone by

Round about midnight
the manager of the club would get drunk
and stumble down the hall to lose his money
playing cards with people a lot better and a lot
more sober.

One of the waiters would come in and give a signal
and the real music would begin.
None of that mickey mouse crap.


The hip crowd would come in and things would get real.
Bill would play his trumpet
his adrenaline pumping
his head spinning wildly 
with big band dreams.
They’d play the greats:

Night Train
Blue Bossa
In the Mood


Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new

Bill was night-dreaming.
These were the stars that hung above him:
life on the road
town to town
playing Jazz at the hottest clubs every night
being lost in a world of dancing and melody
feeling so unspeakably alive.
He was so young.

Miriam was daydreaming.
A white dress
white fences
and tiny white socks
these were the clouds that drifted above her.
She was so young too.

And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
Now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song

Bill’s big break came
when Vince Valentino and his big band
rolled into town.
One night after his show
he came down to the Purple Crackle
just in time to hear Bill’s hook.
It was just like the pictures.
“Kid,” he said,”I could use you in my band!”

Miriam was not so excited.
“It’s my dream!”
he told her as she cried.
He wrapped his arms
around her and she buried her face
in his shoulder on her parent’s
front porch. Around them was the
silent summer song of fireflies.
Was this the end?
They were both so young.

Beside a garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
of paradise where roses grew

The whole episode is neatly preserved in
a green leather scrapbook my grandmother
gave my grandfather for his 60th birthday.
Somewhere between his sepia colored baby photos
his years as a high school band director
and the cruel documentation
of his disappearing hair
it’s a single page:

There’s a picture of my grandmother, my grandfather,
and a glossy headshot of the Italian crooner.
The large caption reads: “Vince or Miriam?”

“Which one did you choose?” someone asked.
We all laughed.

I looked down at the picture of the kid with the 
crew cut and the awkward smile and 
silently thanked him.

Some nights, I looked up at the stars
and marvel that everything
our bodies
our very molecules
are made up of stardust.

All the old matter in the universe is sucked up 
into the hearts of stars and then 
hot new elements are shot out across the cosmos 
bursting with vigor and vitality
and making all things born
so dazzling
so beautiful
so young.

are the product of a billion choices 
over which we have no control-
Glittering moments of decision 
that shimmer and then disappear 
into the darkness of time.

We are made up of stardust and choices-
And the rest is jazz.

Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain

(cue trumpet solo)

Capturing The Moment — New Patio Grill   2 comments

Image by kenne

After ten months in Tucson, I’m now better able to help out with the cooking. Joy and I both have missed not having a grill. Now we are even more ready for family and friends to visit!


Posted April 26, 2011 by kenneturner in Capturing the Word, Family, Friends, Guests, Life, Photography

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Guest Writer — Scriptor Obscura   1 comment

It is my pleasure to have Scriptor Obscura as my guest writer. Her blog is one of several to which I subscribe. I have invited her to be a regular guest and I hope you like her work as much as I do.

Image Via Scriptor Obscura

Munich, 1941

by Scriptor Obscura

He wears his best suit,
she clutches her purse.
He holds her arm as they walk away,
leaving behind his great-great grandfather’s Torah
with its cover of gold thread,
sitting on the mantel.

They don’t speak
as they board the streetcar.
Sitting in the back row,
They hold hands, hardly daring
to look at each other.

At the next stop,
a young Gestapo officer boards,
pistol holstered,
his armband a reminder of
the constant presence of death.

The policeman advances down the aisle,
checking each passenger’s papers.
In the back row,
he can’t breathe
his pulse thunders in his ears
she squeezes his hand.
Then he thinks of it.
He can’t tell her.

“You stupid bitch! You worthless cow!
How could you forget our papers?!
You stupid, stupid woman!
How could you do such a thing?!
You good-for-nothing bitch!”

She stares at him, tears of
bewilderment filling her eyes.
Keep crying, he thinks.
It will be more believable this way.

©The poem titled “Munich, 1941 is copyright Scriptor Obscura. All Rights Reserved. All works, writing, images, and information found herein are protected under Federal Copyright Law. Any unauthorized reproduction or usage is in direct violation of the Federal Copyright Protection Act and is strictly prohibited.

No part or parts of this electronic publication may be reproduced, copied, modified, published, or constructed from in any way without the express, direct written permission of Scriptor Obscura.

Individual authors and creators of original works must be contacted individually for the express, direct written permission to reproduce, copy, modify, publish, or construct from their respective works.

Posted February 4, 2011 by kenneturner in Art, Guests, Information, Life, Peace & War, Photography, Poetry

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