Archive for the ‘Puerto Peñasco’ Tag

Puerto Peñasco Sunset   1 comment

Puerto Penasco September 2013-0174-Sun Set-Edit-3-Art-blog-1Puerto Peñasco Sunset — Photo-artistry by kenne

If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard, 
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went —
Then you may count that day well spent.

But if, through all the livelong day,
You’ve cheered no heart, by yea or nay —
If, through it all
You’ve nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face–
No act most small
That helped some soul and nothing cost —
Then count that day as worse than lost. 

—  George Eliot

Puerto Peñasco Sunrise and “The Human Touch”   2 comments

Puerto Penasco September 2013-0005-Sunset-Edit-1-art-Edit-4-blogPuerto Peñasco Sunrise — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The Human Touch

‘Tis the human touch
in this world that counts,
The touch of your hand and mine,
Which means far more
to the fainting heart
Than shelter and bread and wine.
For shelter is gone
when the night is o’er,
And bread lasts only a day.
But the touch of the hand
And the sound of the voice
Sing on in the soul always. 

— Spencer Michael Free

Puerto Peñasco Beach   2 comments

Beach-1011 B&W. blogPuerto Peñasco Beach (February 2018) — Image by kenne

Morning cup of joe
Sun shining on the calm sea
Walk along the shore.

— kenne

Low Tide At Sunset   Leave a comment

Sunset Panorama--2 blogLow Tide At Sunset (Beach at Mayan Palace, Sonora, Mexico, February 13, 2018) — Panorama by kenne

Low tide at sunset
Shadows of the passing day
Tracks from shore patrol.

— kenne

Swimp Boats At The Rocky Point Port   2 comments

Swimp Boats-1132_art blogSwimp Boats At The Rocky Point (Puerto Peñasco) Port — Computer Painting by kenne

“The meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day, from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person’s life at a given moment.

To put the question in general terms would be to the question posed to a chess champion: “Tell me, Master, what is the best move in the world?”

There simply is no such thing as the best or even a good move apart from a particular situation in a game and the particular personality of one’s opponent.

The same holds for human existence. One should not search for an abstract meaning of life. Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated. Thus, everyone’s task is as unique as is his specific opportunity to implement it. 

As each situation in life represents a challenge to man and presents a problem for him to solve, the question of the meaning of life may actually be reversed. Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.”

–Viktor E. Frankl

The Point At Rocky Point — “What’s The Point?”   1 comment

The Point-1093 blogThe Point Restaurant — Image by kenne

There’s a restaurant that stands on the Sea of Cortez at Puerto Peñasco, Sonora, Mexico. In its own way, it’s an answer to Robert Phillips’ poem “What’s The Point” in his book of poems, “Spinach Days.”   

I had the honor of meeting Bob on several occasions. One occasion was at a poetry reading just after the publication of “Spinach Days” in 2000.  In my copy of his book he wrote:

For Kenne —
Good to see you again — 
& all good wishes for
your own work.
— Bob Phillips

Little did we know that a few years later I would write a follow-up to his poem. My poem titled, “The Point is . . .” that I posted on my Yahoo-360 blog in 2005. Yahoo did away with the service in 2008, which is when I started publishing my blog on WordPress.

For days after taking the above photo, the concept of “the point” kept running through my head. As I often do on Sunday morning, I read poems from some of the books of poetry I have. This morning’s selection was “Spinach Days,” then all the prices started coming together.

However, finding my poem was not easy since it was a posting on my old blog. After searching, I found it with others in a Word document containing other 360 poems under the title, “Will we ever wake,” a title Word gave the document.

The Point Is …. 

Knowing when to say no,
especially the “hard” no.

Not a point in time,
which has no beginning and no end.

 E.T.’s finger and
Obi-Wan Kenobi’s beam of light. 

The place we reach
each time we act, the point of no return.

Not the end,
nor is it the beginning.

What we don’t get
when we are told to use common sense.

The place we are
when we decide we are there. 

Our head we scratch
when we don’t get the point.

A corrective statement
used to express your view of truth. 

Blank when we act without hesitation,
to destroy the point.

A teacher’s finger,
used to drive home the point.

Poetic license when deviating
from the norm to make your point. 

What you want to improve,
when writing is your weak point.

What you gain or lose
when being judged.

A measurement of quality,
the more points, the more expensive.

A work of art in Seurat’s dots
and digital photography’s pixels.

What is missing in Gehry’s titanium-wrapped
curves of the Guggenheim Bilbao. 

The one-finger salute to the sky
sharing the joy of victory. 

What the rude nitwit doesn’t get
when making a cell-phone call in the theater. 

The top of a cap symbolizing the
opposite characteristic of a point.

Is a bright, usually blinking indicator
on a display in which you can find a point.

Waiting for the pot to reach the boiling point,
“Only pots know the boiling points of their broths.”

Is what we follow in the stock market —
“Currently the market is up fifty points.” 

The circles’ people go in
to make the point. 

In life, the point is whatever we want it to be —
Get the point?

kenne

Old Downtown Rocky Point Painting   Leave a comment

Old Shoreline-3369 Highpass Oil Painting blogPainting by kenne

An old fishing town
On a rock across the bay
From see-through condos.

Shrimp boats come and go
Charter boats take tourists out
To fish and watch whales.

Drug stores, restaurants
And fish markets line main street
Where Al Capone lived.

Legal drugs by day
Safe for tourists on the streets
Cartel moves at night.

— kenne

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