
Sonoran Sunset # 3931 — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Sonoran sunset
Many colors in the sky
Shining through the clouds
Eleven years of sunsets
Seen here in Tucson.
kenne
Sonoran Sunset # 3931 — Photo-Artistry by kenne
kenne
7 Falls Trail In Bear Canyon (03-20-15) — Image by kenne
Desert Grass — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Chaos — Abstract Art by kenne
I’m not sure the words ocean and sea
mean the same to you and me.
Ninety-five percent universal confusion,
dark matter was born with the legitimacy
of an onion, the roar of a lion.
I sit in the rumble seat of judgment,
I damn myself for entertainment,
for wasting time on hopeless entertainment.
I am guilty of snarling lines, Gordian
knots in my “Shakespeare” fishing reels.
I must untangle this because eels
have hearts like us. The enemy
is symmetry.
In the spring of content,
I trust glorious chaos. I smell in disorder
the outhouse of order.
— from Chaos by Stanley Moss
Morning In The Canyon (Pima Canyon) — Image by kenne
Adobe Window with Shutters — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Reader — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— Annie Dillard
Saguaro Sunrise — Image by kenne
“The passage into mystery always refreshes. If, when we work, we can look once a day upon the face of mystery,
then our labor satisfies. We are lightened when our gifts rise from pools we cannot fathom. Then we know they are
not a solitary egotism and they are inexhaustible.”
— Lewis Hyde
Lupine In The Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Mariposa Lily — Image by kenne
Bonsai Bose Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Loneliness is creeping in on my moments of solitude.
After a busy day, I have always enjoyed those moments of solitude,
an opportunity to relax and ponder existence. But with age,
solitude has become a prison of living day to day with weary pain.
I was a runner for years, then I became a jogger, now a walker
just trying to keep my balance. The change over time was slow enough,
allowing adjustments to the aging process. But in recent years,
the decline has begun to move at a hurried pace.
Strenght has disappeared, limbs have grown stiff, and every function
less accurate with every fiber of my being frail and overwrought with life.
So, here I am, imprisoned in the last stage of life, soon to become an empty ghost.
Still, I’m reminded, being old is a privilege.
— kenne
In Spite of the Drought Nature Finds Ways To Survive — Image by kenne
— kenne
Missing Spring Festivals — Image by kenne
— Walt Whitman
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I saw her coming.
The version of myself I wanted to see,
I saw her in the corners of my eyes,
I felt her shouting at me from the future,
So loud I heard it through another dimension,
I felt her overwhelming confidence and
Clear sense of direction shaking the ground as I pass by her image
So much so that I forget about the past;
It melts away with her words, at her resurrection
As I make her come alive time after time,
My Alter Ego.
She lies within me and sometimes, if you look closely
You can see her within the cracks of my skin,
Beneath the fragments of my broken heart when,
Against all odds, I must find strength.
— from Alter Ego by Adrianna Franklin
Clouds Breakup After Snow On The Mountains — Image by kenne
— Albert Camus