Desert Chicory and Fairy Duster Wildflowers – Computer Painting — Image by kenne
Archive for the ‘Painting’ Tag
Desert Chicory and Fairy Duster Wildflowers 1 comment
Desert Spring Computer Painting 3 comments
Desert Spring Computer Painting by kenne
“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupery
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. . . A Bird Sang 10 comments
Computer Painting by kenne
Once a Zen master stood up before his students
and was about to deliver a sermon.
And just as he was about to open his mouth,
a bird sang. And he said,
“The sermon has been delivered.”
— Joseph Campbell
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Some Go Hunting For Light 6 comments
Edward Hopper’s Lighthouse Village, Cape Elizabeth (1929)
Maine house, 1998, by Michael H. Coles
There is so much I love about the art of Edward Hopper, which is why I continue to turn to his work — so on the pulse of us as Americans. I have never been to Maine, let through painting like Lighthouse Village, I feel as if I grow up in Cape Elizabeth — his inspiration allows my imagination to capture reality.
“I once told Hopper that he shows us who we are,” said poet William Carlos Williams. “He’d have no part of my enthusiasm, or extravagance. ‘Yes, I try,’ he said–and then he spoke about ‘light,” how hard he looks for it. He told me to go ‘hunting’ for light, and I liked hearing him use that word–seeing his face get lit up as he spoke!” (“Seeking Maine’s Light,” DoubleTake, Winter 2000)
The Michael H. Coles photograph of a Maine house taken not far from where Hopper painted Lighthouse Village illustrates how Hopper was able to capture the light.
kenne
Edward Hopper, Self-portrait
Edward Hopper and the House by the Railroad (1925)
by Edward Hirsch
Out here in the exact middle of the day,
This strange, gawky house has the expression
Of someone being stared at, someone holding
His breath underwater, hushed and expectant;
This house is ashamed of itself, ashamed
Of its fantastic mansard rooftop
And its pseudo-Gothic porch, ashamed
of its shoulders and large, awkward hands.
The House by the Railroad by Edward Hopper 1925
But the man behind the easel is relentless.
He is as brutal as sunlight, and believes
The house must have done something horrible
To the people who once lived here
Because now it is so desperately empty,
It must have done something to the sky
Because the sky, too, is utterly vacant
And devoid of meaning. There are no
Trees or shrubs anywhere–the house
Must have done something against the earth.
All that is present is a single pair of tracks
Straightening into the distance. No trains pass.
Now the stranger returns to this place daily
Until the house begins to suspect
That the man, too, is desolate, desolate
And even ashamed. Soon the house starts
To stare frankly at the man. And somehow
The empty white canvas slowly takes on
The expression of someone who is unnerved,
Someone holding his breath underwater.
And then one day the man simply disappears.
He is a last afternoon shadow moving
Across the tracks, making its way
Through the vast, darkening fields.
This man will paint other abandoned mansions,
And faded cafeteria windows, and poorly lettered
Storefronts on the edges of small towns.
Always they will have this same expression,
The utterly naked look of someone
Being stared at, someone American and gawky.
Someone who is about to be left alone
Again, and can no longer stand it.
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Hiking On The Edge 2 comments
“Hiking On The Edge” — Computer Painting by kenne
“It had nothing to do with gear
or footwear
or the backpacking fads
or philosophies of any particular era
or even with getting from point A to point B.
It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild.
With what it was like to walk for miles
with no reason other than to witness
the accumulation of trees and meadows,
mountains and deserts,
streams and rocks,
rivers and grasses,
sunrises and sunsets.
The experience was powerful and fundamental.
It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild,
and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way.”
― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
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Fairy Duster On Angel Dust 3 comments
Fairy Duster On Angel Dust — Image by kenne
sick fairy duster
a case of desert fever
or just angel dust
— kenne
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The Joy Of Gazing 1 comment
“I Gaze at You” — Image by kenne
the joy of gazing
looking through the looking glass
mise en abyme
— kenne
(“In its Greek meaning, the verb “to see” incarnates theoretical man, an omnidirectional ball of open eyes. What purpose does theory serve?
The surveillance of relations, or the examination of objects?” – Michel Serres, “Panoptic Theory”)
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The New Condition Of Our Condition 4 comments
Farmers Market In The Plaza 6 comments
Farmers Market — Image by kenne
Sunday
in the plaza
vender tables
shaded by tents
fresh produce
baked goods
prickly pear jelly
etc
all locally grown
and produced
products
I stroll
plaza grounds
with my
fresh cup
cowboy coffee
rubbing
elbows with
friends and
strangers —
life is good
— kenne
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Capturing The Moment — “The Duck” Leave a comment
Northern Shoveler Duck Feeding At Whitewater Draw — Image by kenne
The Duck
Behold the duck
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond.
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.
— Ogden Nash
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I Will Descent Into The Maze, Deo Volente Leave a comment
I Will Descent Into The Maze, Deo Volente — Image by kenne
Deo volente, I
Will descent into the maze
On the canyon floor.
— kenne
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Whitewater Draw Painting 7 comments
Whitewater Draw — Image by kenne
The Sandhill Crane
***
The fields are alive with murmuring sound
I see the crane ever dancing around
They stand, they sit, all over the place.
like a babbling brook with a stony face.
When one takes flight they all follow suit
to the skys they twine with a bellowing hoot
Flapping, grappling on awkward stilts
painting the sky in patchwork quilts.
A new field awaits their homely roost
giving their journey a relieving boost
A stop in Nebraska just passing through.
Visitors pay homage to this sandhill crew.
Finding the sanctuary a yearly reprieve
until they decide to leap and leave.
Journey’s end to their timely stay
The sandhill crane must now fly away.
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Mother and Son 6 comments
Mother and Son — Image by kenne
She leads quietly
Allowing the outlier
Lots of room to grow.
— kenne
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Old Arizona Water Mill Leave a comment
“Old Arizona Water Mill” Painting– Image by kenne
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The Old Hitching Rail 2 comments
Image by kenne
Been riding the dusty trails,
Now long in the day
As the sun goes down
In the hills west of Tucson.
A hitching rail awaits Old Paint,
Now covered with dust
Her black and white colors
Are a sepia golden brown.
Pushing open the swing doors,
I step up to my hitching rail
Where I order a double shot of
Taos Lightning, the special rotgut.
“Give me the good stuff,”
Was just a figure of speech
Since I knew the bourbon
Was watered-down with turpentine.
No matter, at the end of the day
This is the real spirit of the west
Where people are real,
not watered-down phonies.
— kenne
Insolation Controls in the Age of Anthropocene
(Understanding Global Warming)
Anthropocene
newly coined
unknown to
Joe the . . . ,
a new human
condition
argued as
invalid
only to be
based
on the invalid
alignment of
insolations
maxima and minima
questioning the new
condition
of our condition
— kenne
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