Tom Turner at Home in Seattle (In his notes, I came across a Kierkegaard quote, which I used to start the following three-fragment poem, which reflects Tom’s philosophy.)
I
The whole of my being shrieks in contradiction. To live is to suffer this clash of opposites— to despair is to forget it.
II
I am the tension: finite and infinite, time and eternity. If I dissolve it, I lose myself.
III
The contradiction is not my enemy— it is my teacher. Through it, I hear the Spirit whisper, though I only answer in silence.
‘As we grow older, the world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated . . .’ Complications, ambiguities, nonsequiturs. I keep searching for clarity . . . lucidity; and I know each time I seek that I’ll become more entangled. No, I’m not bored — just scared.”
When we planned our Alaska cruise, we did so with the desire to get together my nieces, Lisa and Vanessa, who live in the Seattle area. Our Road Trip/Cruise plan would be to spend the weekend in Seattle after the Alaska cruise. However, even with the best-made plans, we could only spend time with Lisa and Mike. Vanessa was recovering from surgery, and her husband Jonn had pneumonia.
Boarding a cruise ship involves a lot of hurry up and wait. We were on board at our scheduled time, 1:00pm, but we could not get in our room until three hours later. Meanwhile, the morning clouds moved out, leaving behind a beautiful Seattle skyline.
A view of downtown Seattle from the ship’s top deck.
Tom Turner, a Rainy Day on the Seattle Waterfront (June, 2000) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
(These quotes were among Tom’s handwritten notes.)
“A person becomes a writer because they’re deficient. They have problems. They’re crazy. They have unhappy families. They’re eccentric. And not because they’ve read a lot of books necessarily, but on the contrary — maybe they haven’t read enough books. There’s a strong irrationality about the writing life. Often a writer writes just to maintain their sanity. The way an addict needs to perform a certain ritual of mainlining, a writer kind of has to do it in order to keep his or her head on straight.”
— Paul Theroux
“The whole content of my being shrieks in contradiction against itself.”
Jonathan, Joy & Kenne, Seattle Skyline (September 1, 2009) — Image directed by kenne
To bring anything into your life, imagine that it’s already there.
*****
Same with anyone who’s been flying for years and loves it still we’re part of a world we deeply love. Just as musicians feel about scores and melodies, dancers about the steps and flow of music, so we’re one with the principle of flight, the magic of being aloft in the wind!
This morning was as if we had brought the Seattle area fog and drizzle to Tucson. Fog, like snow, can be a real big deal in the desert, making for a pleasant change.
Meydenbauer Bay On Lake Washington, Bellevue, WA — Images by kenne
Tanuri Ridge Patio View (West)
Tanuri Ridge Circle View (East)
Desert Fog
The sliding doors opened to fog, rendering the mountains a negative opaque.
The normal morning quietness seemed even more somber,
not in a gloomy way with its limited view,
instead consoling vanishing dreams with an attentive hug
having loved once in splendor, how tender is the morning.
— kenne
(Go To kenneturner.com to see all the “Becoming is Superior to Being” Postings.)
Thomas R. Turner, On The Waterfront (June 2, 2006) — Image by Mary Ann
Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It’s abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we’ll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you?
They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.
Dedicated to Brother Tom (RIP) and Daughters, Vanessa and Lisa — Images by kenne
Marcy Now
My father could use a little mercy now The fruits of his labor Fall and rot slowly on the ground His work is almost over It won’t be long and he won’t be around I love my father, and he could use some mercy now
My brother could use a little mercy now He’s a stranger to freedom He’s shackled to his fears and doubts The pain that he lives in is Almost more than living will allow I love my bother, and he could use some mercy now
My church and my country could use a little mercy now As they sink into a poisoned pit That’s going to take forever to climb out They carry the weight of the faithful Who follow them down I love my church and country, and they could use some mercy now
Every living thing could use a little mercy now Only the hand of grace can end the race Towards another mushroom cloud People in power, well They’ll do anything to keep their crown I love life, and life itself could use some mercy now
Yeah, we all could use a little mercy now I know we don’t deserve it But we need it anyhow We hang in the balance Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground Every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Mother (Agnes), with sons Kenne and Tom (Bobby), and Tom’s daughters Lisa and Vanessa
— Late 80’s image in Seattle by Joy
Susan Sontag — Regarding the Pain of Others
Photography obsessed Sontag and became the subject for two of her best books. Her preoccupation with photography is the single clearest example of her shifting a previously disregarded mass medium into the realm of acceptable highbrow discussion. The photograph, in her view, had changed the mechanics of memory. Our minds, she argued, no longer stored narrative; they stockpiled images. “The problem,” she wrote in Regarding the Pain of Others, “is not that people remember through photographs, but that they remember only photographs.” And in a way, that sentence anticipated her obituaries, which dwelled at length on the many photographs of Sontag.
— from a profile on Susan Sontag, Susan Superstar in the New York Magazine
Tom Turner (Seattle, June 12, 2000) — Image by kenne
Poverties, Wincings, and Sulky Retreats
Ah poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats, Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me, (For what is my life or any man’s life but a conflict with foes, the old, the incessant war?) You degredations, you tussle with passions and appetites, You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds the sharpest of all!) You toil of painful and choked articulations, you meannesses, You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the shallowest of any;) You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother’d ennuis! Ah think not you finally triumph, my real self has yet to come forth, It shall yet march forth o’ermastering, till all lies beneath me, It shall yet stand up the soldier of ultimate victory.
— Walt Whitman
Tom sent this Whitman poem to me the day before my 65th birthday — “I knew you would like it.”
He was correct!
Tom Turner, a Rainy Day on the Seattle Waterfront (June, 2000) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Jonathan, Joy & Kenne, Seattle Skyline (September 1, 2009) — Image directed by kenne
Seattle Sunshine in a Misty Rain — Image by kenne
Meydenbauer Bay On Lake Washington, Bellevue, WA — Images by kenne
Tanuri Ridge Patio View (West)
Tanuri Ridge Circle View (East)
Thomas R. Turner, On The Waterfront (June 2, 2006) — Image by Mary Ann
Dedicated to Brother Tom (RIP) and Daughters, Vanessa and Lisa — Images by kenne
Mother (Agnes), with sons Kenne and Tom (Bobby), and Tom’s daughters Lisa and Vanessa
Tom Turner (Seattle, June 12, 2000) — Image by kenne
