Archive for the ‘Photo-Artistry’ Category
Rainy Morning in Sabino Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Rain
Sybilline heiress
Droplight
Lightning water
air prison
heart sugarcane
Song crystal
word song
a promise
a lie
in drops of sand
hidden.
— Lucha Corpi
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Purple Sunset — Photo-Artistry by kenne
About the time
I’m feeling high
I start acting funny
But don’t know why
Today becomes the day after today
Or is it the end of time
Only to be floating in
An ocean of deathless life
Feeling gratitude for God’s gift
Awaking the soul
Becoming void as I was
When I was not yet
“Turn from gazing after.”
To kiss the sky
Devoid of all
Foreign images
Only to be
Born again
From inside the outside
Looking in
Jimi had a spell
On his brain
Purple in color
Inspired by a Haze
Deluded by doubt
“Am I happy or in misery?”
To be answered not in the words
But the color of the font
— kenne
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Katelyn Turner (03/15/14) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Eyes Tell You
Little girls have a mysterious power,
But not all can feel it – when she does,
You can see it in her eyes.
As she matures, she’s driven
To climb the tower of perfection,
Always resisting her indifference.
Her enigmatic power is needed
To stir the artist inside,
To triumph over the unenlightened.
In her way, she will find something new,
Something never before encountered
Placing art in a world void of feeling.
Inventive, she will act,
Sometimes seeking out failure
To turn it into a triumph.
Once her power is transformed
By the magical virtue of art,
Loving and understanding become simpler.
# # # # #
Now that they return home, I ponder —
Children and grandchildren
are the beautiful mysteries
that drive our emotions
stirring each moment we share,
not knowing if the same emotions
transcend each communication in the moment,
ending in emotional question marks.
— kenne (07/07/14)
Kenne David, Katelyn and Kenne (07/06/14)
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Southern Dogface — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye and ear, — both what they half-create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognize
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
— from Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour by William Wordsworth
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Smoke and Haze — Photo-Artistry by kenne
We hike the park trails
Maintaining social distance
Oh, yes, wearing masks.
— kenne
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Red-Top Mushroom — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
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A Full Moon Night In The Sonoran Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
A Clear Midnight
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best.
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
— Walt Whitman
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Tucson Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Truth Never Dies
Truth never dies. The ages come and go.
The mountains wear away, the stars retire.
Destruction lays earth’s mighty cities low;
And empires, states and dynasties expire;
But caught and handed onward by the wise,
Truth never dies.
Though unreceived and scoffed at through the years,
Though made the butt of ridicule and jest,
Though held aloft for mockery and jeers,
Denied by those of transient power possessed,
Insulted by the insolence of lies,
Truth never dies.
It answers not. It does not take offense,
But with a mighty silence bides its time.
As some great cliff that braves the elements
And lifts through all the storms its head sublime,
It ever stands, uplifted by the wise,
And never dies.
As rests the Sphinx amid Egyptian sands;
As looms on high the snowy peak and crest;
As firm and patient as Gibraltar stands,
So truth, unwearied, waits the era blest
When men shall turn to it with great surprise.
Truth never dies.
— Anonymous
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Lanceleaf Goldeneye — Grunge Art by kenne
Persevere
The fisher who draws in his net too soon,
Won’t have any fish to sell;
The child who shuts up his book too soon,
Won’t learn any lessons well.
If you would have your learning stay,
Be patient – don’t learn too fast;
The man who travels a mile each day,
May get round the world at last.
— from the Children’s Book of Virtues
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Tree by the Tanque Verde Wash — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Whatever you hold in your mind will tend to occur in your life.
If you continue to believe as you have always believed,
you will continue to act as you have always acted.
If you continue to act as you have always acted,
you will continue to receive what you have always received.
If you want different results in your life or your work,
all you have to do is change your mind.”
— Unknown
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Hummingbird Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The two worst tactical errors you can make
are acting too early
and allowing an opportunity to slip by.”
— Paulo Coelho
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Relaxing After A Hike — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Ginger and Sorrow”
My skin is the cover of my body.
It keeps me bound to my surroundings.
It is the leather over my spine.
It is the silk over the corneas of my eyes.
Where I am hairless, at the lips and groin,
there is pinkness and vulnerability.
Despite a protective covering of horny skin,
there is no such problem with my fingers,
whose ridges and grooves are so gratifying
to both the lover and the criminologist.
I think perhaps the entire history
of me is here—viper of memory,
stab of regret, red light of oblivion.
Hell would be living without them.
— Henri Cole
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Lemmon Rock Lookout — Photo-Artistry by kenne
There’s a lookout on a rock
That’s called, Lemmon Rock.
Placed on the side of Mt. Lemmon
Where a ranger with his dog
Watch over the Catalina’s.
Listening to echoes of liance.
Fires have come close
But never close for cause
To abandoned the watch
Tracking the forest’s future
Thinking about a poem
They will never write.
— kenne
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Bur Marigold Wildflower (Bidens aurea) Blooms in September and October
in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Considered the most spectacular of the genus Bidens,
the Bur marigold is not a very common plant.
“Bidens” means “having two teeth,” which references
the hairlike appendages on the fruits.
A deciduous perennial forb.
— Frank S. Rose
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Pusch Ridge Wilderness, Santa Catalina Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The path to Han-shan’s place is laughable,
A path, but no sign of cart or horse.
Converging gorges – hard to trace their twists
Jumbled cliffs – unbelievably rugged.
A thousand grasses bend with dew,
A hill of pines hums in the wind.
And now I’ve lost the shortcut home,
Body asking shadow, how do you keep up?
— Han-shan
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