Archive for the ‘Painting’ Category

Artist Painting In Sabino Canyon   Leave a comment

Artist Painting In Sabino Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne

In The Beauty Created By Others

Only in the beauty created
by others is their consolation,
in the music of others and in others’ poems.
Only others save us,
even through solitude tastes like
opium. The others are not hell,
if you see them early, with their
foreheads pure, cleansed by dreams.
That is why I wonder what
word should be used, “he’ or “you.” Every “he”
is a betrayal of a certain “you” but
in return someone else’s poem
offers the fidelity of a sober dialogue.

— Adam Zagajewski

Hawk In Mesquite Tree   Leave a comment

Cooper’s Hawk in Mesquite Tree — Painting by kenne

“For those of us who portray wildlife . . . our decision to persist in our quest for excellence is almost always based
on a love affair,
a fascination with the creatures of our planet, and a need to share this feeling the best way we know how.”

— Bob Kuhn (Wildlife Artist, One of the Tucson 7)

Transforming Vision   1 comment


Pablo Picasso. “The Old Guitarist,” Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection.
© 2018 Estate of Pablo Picasso / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

I

The man bent over his guitar,
A shearsman of sorts. The day was green.

They said, “You have a blue guitar,
You do not play things as they are.”

The man replied, “Things as they are
Are changed upon the blue guitar.”

And they said then, “But play, you must,
A tune beyond us, yet ourselves,

A tune upon the blue guitar
Of things exactly as they are.”

II

I cannot bring a world quite round,
Although I patch it as I can.

I sing a hero’d head, large eye
And bearded bronze, but not a man,

Although I patch him as I can
And reach through him almost to man.

If to serenade almost to man
Is to miss, by that, things as they are,

Say that it is the serenade
Of a man that plays a blue guitar.

III

Ah, but to play man number one,
To drive the dagger in his heart,

To lay his brain upon the board
And pick the acrid colors out,

To nail his thought across the door,
Its wings spread wide to rain and snow,

To strike his living hi and ho,
To tick it, tock it, turn it true,

To bang it from a savage blue,
Jangling the metal of the strings…

— from Man With The Blue Guitar by Wallace Stevens
     Source: Transforming Vision; Writers On Art — Edward Hirsch

Roadrunner Watercolor Portrait   Leave a comment

Watercolor Painting of a Greater Roadrunner — Photo-Artistry by kenne

He visits each day

A nosey kind of joker

Looking for trouble.

— kenne

Sitting On The Fence   Leave a comment

Eastern Bluebird Sitting On The Fence — Painting by kenne

The bluebird carries the sky on his back.

— Henry David Thoreau

Rainbow Painting — House of Sky   1 comment

Rainbow Painting (House of Sky) by kenne

The future is waiting
like a short-lived rainbow
poised on the tongue
of the artist and poet
such is the house of sky.

— kenne

Centerpiece Painting   Leave a comment

Centerpiece Painting by kenne

The way to live life is to love many things.

Cactus Blossom Art   Leave a comment

Cactus Blossom Art by kenne

I feel that a real living form is the natural result
of the individual’s effort to create the living thing
out of the adventure of his spirit into the unknown
— where it has experienced something — felt something —
it has not understood — and from that experience
comes the desire to make the unknown — known —

Making the unknown — known — in terms of one’s medium
is all absorbing — if you stop to think of form — as form
you are lost — The artist’s form must be inevitable — 
You mustn’t think you won’t succeed —

— Georgia O’Keeffe

Sailboat In The Bay   Leave a comment

Sailboat In The Bay — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Sailboat

Strange flight, the body
Held at a threshold
And never quite freed

Or quite revealed—
One wing taut with wind,
One wing concealed

Until the wind grows calm
And it shimmers in a shadow-world,
The shape of a sail, yet softer—

The drifting boat
A bird half in air,
Half in water.

— Heather Allen, from Leaving a Shadow 

Canyon Painting   Leave a comment

Canyon Painting — Photo-Artistry by kenne

“The likelihood that your acts of resistance cannot stop the injustice does not exempt you

from acting in what you sincerely and reflectively hold to be the best interests of your community.”

— Susan Sontag

Watercolor Painting   1 comment

Watercolor Painting by Katie Turner Bailey 

Watercolor is like life.
Better get it right the first time–
you don’t get a second chance!

— Sergei Bongart

To Make Soft . . .   Leave a comment

beach-web-1385-1-art-72Photo-Artistry by kenne

To Make Soft . . .

Words,
words have feelings

Feelings,
feelings are everything

Struggling,
struggling to share feelings

Placing,
placing petitions of desire

Door,
door of your heart

Shut,
shut not the door

Love,
love will concur

Scorn,
scorn not what we do

Looking,
looking for peace of mind

Truth,
truth will set us free

Explaining,
explaining not what is real

Complicated,
complicated for the weak

Knowing,
knowing not our time to go

Lifetime,
lifetime is no time at all

— kenne

“The Hunters In Snow,” A Favorite During The Holiday Season   Leave a comment

“The Hunters In the Snow,” oil painting on wood by Pieter Bruegel

This work of Pieter Bruegel is a favorite of many people, but most know of his paintings only because of this one, “Hunters in the Snow,” a scene appearing on many Christmas cards. His paintings are beautiful because of his compositions make one of the opposites, based on Eli Siegel’s principle of aesthetic realism: “All beauty is a making one of opposites, and the making of one of the opposites is what we are going after in ourselves.”

opposites are one

composing yesteryear’s coldness

stretching through time

standing still in the moment
 

searching the unrestricted

working with opposites

reassuring in sameness
 

emphasizing divergence

promising order

pleasing to self

— kenne

* * * * *

“A girl, in ancient Greece,

Be sure, had no more peace

Than one in Idaho.

To feel and yet to know

Was hard in Athens, too.

I’m sure confusion grew

In Nika’s mind as she,

While wanting to be free,

Hoped deeply to adore

Someone; and so no more

Be wretched and alone.”

— from “The Dark That Was Is Here” by Eli Siegel

 

The Freedom Train   Leave a comment

american-freedom-train-m-bob-lorenz-art-611-002-1200xfreedomtrain.org

This song is a train song
It’s a song about a train
Not the Atchison and Topeka
Not the Chattanooga Choo-Choo
Nor the one that leaves at midnight
For the state of Alabam’
This song is a train song
Where the engineer is Uncle Sam

Here comes the Freedom Train!
You better hurry down
Just like a Paul Revere
It’s comin’ into your hometown

Inside the Freedom Train
You will find a precious freight
Those words of liberty
The documents that made us great

You can shout your anger from a steeple
You can shoot the system full of holes
You can always question “We the People”
You can get your answer at the polls

That’s how it’s always been
And how it will remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Riding’ all across this country
Playing music for the people
With the fellows in the band
We’re singin’ of the liberty
And freedom through the land

You can write the President a letter
You can even tell him to his face
If you think that you can do it better
Get the votes and you can take his place

If you hate the laws that you’re obeying
You can shout your anger to the crowd
We may disagree with what you’re saying
But we’ll fight to let you say it loud

That’s how it’s always been
And how it must remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Keep ridin’ that Freedom Train!

— Maria Muldaur

The Freedom Song — Maria Muldaur

Posted October 17, 2019 by kenneturner in Information, Lyrics, Painting, Poetry

Tagged with , , , ,

Bee On Camphorweed Digital Painting — A Taste of Fall   Leave a comment

Hutches PoolBee On Camphorweed — A Taste of Fall Photo-Artistry by kenne

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved —
loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.”

― Victor Hugo

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