The Houston Chronicle recognized outstanding nurses during a luncheon on May 2, 2023. Each year, the Houston Chronicle honors the top nurses across Greater Houston during their Salute to Nurses event. In 2023, 200 recipients were selected through a public nomination — included are seven UT Physicians employees. Kenne was recognized as one of the Top 15 this year.
Huntington Zen Garden (March 31, 2022) — Panorama by kenne
I have lost count of the number of times I have visited the Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens, collections-based research, and educational institution in San Marino, California. The Huntington is like a “riprap” — loose rocks used as a foundation that a person can assemble before them.
Riprap
Lay down these words Before your mind like rocks, placed solid, by hands In choice of place, set Before the body of the mind in space and time: Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall riprap of things: Cobble of milky way, straying of planets, These poems, people, lost ponies with Dragging saddles— and rocky sure-foot trails. Game of Go. ants and pebbles In the thin loam, each rock a word a creek-washed stone Granite: ingrained with torment of fire and weight Crystal and sediment linked hot all change, in thoughts, As well as things.
Originally posted April 2011 on Becoming is Superior to Being. — kenne
“The only thing we can perceive are our perceptions. In other words, consciousness is the matrix upon which
the cosmos is apprehended. Color, sound, temperature, and the like exist only as perceptions in our head,
not as absolute essences. In the broadest sense, we cannot be sure of an outside universe at all.” — George Berkeley
Artist Along Sabino Creek In Sabino Canyon, April, 2011 — Image by kenne
Water
Pressure of sun on the rockslide Whirled me in dizzy hop-and-step descent, Pool of pebbles buzzed in a Juniper shadow, Tiny tongue of a this-year rattlesnake flicked, I leaped, laughing for little boulder-color coil– Pounded by heat raced down the slabs to the creek Deep tumbling under arching walls and stuck Whole head and shoulders in the water: Stretched full on cobble–ears roaring Eyes open aching from the cold and faced a trout.
The poem originally appeared Riprap, which was Snyder’s first book of poetry. For Snyder, nature as divine, which goes hand-in-hand with the biocentric nature of his Buddhist beliefs.
“Thinking about a poem I’ll never write. With gut on wood and hide, and plucking thumb, Grope and stutter for the words, invent a tune, In any tongue, this moment one time true Be wine or blood or rhythm drives it through — A leap of words to things and there it stops. Creating empty caves and tools in shops And holy domes, and nothing you can name; The long old chorus blowing underfoot Makes high wild notes of mountains in the sea. O Muse, a goddess gone astray Who warms the cow and makes the wise man sane, (&even madness gobbles demons down) Then dance through jewelled trees & lotus crowns For Narihira’s lover, the crying plover, For babies grown and childhood homes And moving, moving, on through scenes and towns Weep for the crowds of men Like birds gone south forever. The long-lost hawk of Yakamochi and Thoreau Flits over yonder hill, the hand is bare, The noise of living families fills the air.”
Bear Canyon Creek, Santa Catalina Mountains — Images by kenne
RIPRAP
Lay down these words Before your mind like rocks. place solid, by hands In choice of place, set Before the body of the mind in space and time: Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall riprap of things: Cobble of milky way, straying planets These poems, people, lost ponies with Dragging saddles and rocky sure-foot trails. The worlds like endless four-dimensional Game of Go. ants and pebbles in the thin loam, each rock a word a creek-washed stone Granite: ingrained with torment of fire and weight Crystal and sediment linked hot all change, in thoughts, As well as things.
— Gary Snyder
Gary Snyder at the University of Arizona Poetry Center, 2010
Artist Along Sabino Creek In Sabino Canyon, April, 2011 — Image by kenne
Water
Pressure of sun on the rockslide Whirled me in dizzy hop-and-step descent, Pool of pebbles buzzed in a Juniper shadow, Tiny tongue of a this-year rattlesnake flicked, I leaped, laughing for little boulder-color coil– Pounded by heat raced down the slabs to the creek Deep tumbling under arching walls and stuck Whole head and shoulders in the water: Stretched full on cobble–ears roaring Eyes open aching from the cold and faced a trout.
The poem originally appeared Riprap, which was Snyder’s first book of poetry. For Snyder, nature as divine, which goes hand-in-hand with the biocentric nature of his Buddhist beliefs.
Becoming is Superior to Being 