the Mighty Works Project

I see the moon, the moon sees me. Climbing up your apple tree. Kirk Jordan or "not quite all there"

2011-11-12T22:37:00.000-06:00

On the occasion of my forthcoming death

2011-10-30T10:02:00.002-05:00

Note: I am part of a group that hangs out on G-Plus (Google +) called "Selfie Sunday" -- On every other week or so, we post a self portrait of ourselves, and in turn look at, and comment on each other's self portraits. This week was a Halloween theme. As is, I am not too fond of Halloween's obsession with darkness, though in an abstract way, I think reflection on death can be a good thing. So here is my photo contribution to the day, with a reflection - beyond the grave.

Recently I had occasion to go to the memorial service of a truly outstanding young man, Cris -- “The Romanian” – a pre-med student at the University of Central Arkansas. Cris was a special light. At 22 he loved life, blushed loudly, took in knowledge with unbridled curiosity, and otherwise lived with a intensity in before God and man that is simply rare. (Someone said they now understood -- Cris had to fit 70 years into 22.)

That, in combination with the death or declining health of others near to me, has led to on a odd stream of introspection. (For whatever reasons, my mom often thought about death, even to the point of giving instruction for her “Coming home” celebration. So --- as part of a family tradition, here is a list of things I would like to see at my funeral. Which of course, assumes that I might be permitted to look in on such things. I don’t know. Perhaps I will have no interest.

The major songs.

Be Thou My Vision.

Immortal Invisible

Like a River Glorious (my favorite hymn as a kid.)

And He will Purify (From Handle’s Messiah)

Going up Yonder (the latter two sung by Marvin or the Philander Smith Gospel Choir)

Under no circumstances should you play a modern praise chorus. Minus points for sound track. (Funny, I loved the new praise music as a kid, and really do like some of it now, but it has so overtaken the music of the church, that I have almost come to loath it.) You may however, boldly sing “in Christ Alone” or the Revelation Song that we sometimes sing in church. (Both are modern, but they are different animals.)

Extra bonus points for inclusion of a accordion, dobra, or sitar.

Major Readings.

I Samuel 2 (the prayer of Hanna). (Just think, a woman with no formal theological training put this out… Wow.)

Psalm 104

John 1

And if you really want to make me happy, read the two last chapters of Job.

A poem of two would be nice. The Hound of Heaven is my favorite, but kind of long. Maybe Sommer could write one.

Music:

Local talent. Thom and Tina Nash. (I’m sure you will know something appropriate.) Steve Evans. (something sardonic and even bluesy, just to keep them on their toes.) Time Traywick. Burn the place down with a stomping fiddle tune, and you could wear a tie to keep the place dignified.)

Should the Budget allow

Mo Levertt. Song: Make it Go Away (its kinda dark for a funeral, but how about. And if not that. “I just want to dance with you.”

Jan Krist. I just want to Waltz with you. (Hmm. Seems like we are on a theme) Perhaps the second most beautiful song in the world.)

Terry Taylor or Randy Stonehill singing “The Beautiful One” (But watch Terry, he can be irreverent.)

Phil Keaggy. Just a little guitar number or two. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

Wendy Dooley and sibs. (I don’t know how you will pull this off, but you need to sing around each attendee in the round, just like you all did for me once. That’s harmony.

Yo Yo Ma. (Just dreaming)

John Michael Talbot. His music drives my wife kinda batty. But I am all for anything that has Baptisty types learning liturgy.

Kayla. Blow them away. You are one atom-bomb of talent, yet to go off.

Speakers.

It is always nice to hear your kids say something nice about you. But short of that, Edith could do an interpretive dance. Anna could model. Or simply be put in charge.

Wife. I like it when she posts Bruce Cockbun lyrics to me on our anniversary. But beyond that, the best moments of our life were spent in prayer. It seems in these last months we are praying and meshing together like we never have. If you could, (and through a tear or two) could you pray..... for God's Kingdom to make it some small way into our family, our nation, and the places we have been.

Kevin Hunt. Ask him to use some special words.

Pastor Ken (always has the most appropriate And Powerful things to say.)

My boss….it would just be kind’ a neat.

Ps. While I certainly won’t mind if you say nice things about me you should also share some of the areas in my life that are out of order. Or where I failed. Let Christ be glorified in weakness.

Ask everyone to think of something for which I should be forgiven. Forgive me.

Visuals.

I would be just fine in a Urn, but if you must to the casket, go for the Western pine-board style that is kind of long and diamond shaped. Make it look really temporary.

Flowers. Only seasonal, Wild, picked from the roadside.

Not really sure I want you to find my Kierkmister photo file. Lots of fun, but maybe a little too whacked out for the occasion.

While I wouldn’t mind if you showed some of my art photos, I think it would be better if everyone submitted a few of their own, depicting glorious things.

Bolo ties. Hand mine out. I have about 80. Anyone who wanted one could wear one.

All the Repubs should wear Obama pins, all the Dems, Palin 9?) pins. (I wouldn’t even do the latter.) The purpose is to embrace a little cognitive dissonance.

Closing. Someone should tell the “whale joke” No one should laugh.

==

As for my marker:

“He put down his camera. Now he sees.”

the Amazing Cloud Tsunami! (order Print)

2011-08-11T23:46:00.004-05:00

To see the cloud in motion:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6EouhO6E0o

Apparently a lot of folks in AR like the middle picture. Some would even like to buy it. If you would like to help a soul, without an entrepenurial bone in his body, please do so.

First. My gift. Feel free to download to you computer for a backdrop. But if you need a real print, please pay.

signed 8x12 = 12 dollars (in person delivery) or $15 mailed.
signed 12x18 = 24 dollars, or $28 mailed.

Check or Money order to Kirk Jordan
3 Manchester Drive, Conway AR 72034. (I'll see if I cannot get Paypal up an going)

email, if needed kirkwood2020 (at) yahoo.com.

feedback

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150335211858554&set=a.88702903553.101952.68455493553&type=1&comments&cmntid=10150335230763554

http://www.arktimes.com/ArkansasBlog/archives/2011/08/10/clouds-over-capitol

the Gift

2011-07-30T01:55:00.001-05:00

the Gift a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Boil

2011-07-25T08:33:00.001-05:00

Boil a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

A sketch for a longer work.

Is it me, or do you see it too?

2011-07-21T12:52:00.001-05:00

Is it me, or do you see it too?, a photo by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Boiler Mini (90 second Flickr limit)

2011-07-13T16:00:00.001-05:00

Boiler Mini (90 second Flickr limit) a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

just a study, but a pretty cool one. hope to make this into a much longer minimalist celebration of boiling clouds.

The Siege - Migraine Warning

2011-07-06T14:39:00.001-05:00

The Siege - Migraine Warning a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Some really wicked awesome looking clouds. (I never thought I would use that phrase, but it applies.)

the Oregon Chronicals, Volume 3: Here Comes the Sun

2011-06-29T13:43:00.001-05:00

the Oregon Chronicals, Volume 3: Here Comes the Sun a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

View the entire series

Oregon Impressions, Part 2

2011-06-27T12:22:00.001-05:00

Oregon Impressions, Part 2 a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Liquid Days

2011-06-27T12:21:00.001-05:00

Liquid Days a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

part one in a series.

Churn

2011-06-07T00:29:00.001-05:00

Churn a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Be honest, Did you know summer clouds did this?

More stormy stuff

2011-05-21T10:18:00.001-05:00

More stormy stuff a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

See how many different directions these clouds move... with a real about-face in direction near the end.

Blue Skies

2011-05-16T20:34:00.001-05:00

Blue Skies a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Wow. were today's skies ever gorgeous.

Capitol Idea (Rough draft section)

2011-05-06T08:08:00.001-05:00

Capitol Idea (Rough draft section) a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

just a part of what should be a mini movie

Stormy Weather

2011-05-01T17:07:00.001-05:00

Stormy Weather a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Oops, this one should have gone earlier.

Thunders

2011-05-01T17:06:00.001-05:00

Thunders a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Talk about rain. And lightning. We have had way too much here in Arkansas.

This was mostly strobe lightening, and it was kind of hard to figure out an exposure that would work for those times where I got an actual bolt. If I closed the aperture to cover for the rare visible jag the overall exposures were to dark, while some vivid bolts simply overexposed the existing exposure. The pictures that look like day (and everything else) were all taken between 12 and 2 AM. Most of these were shot out the back of our Honda Van, with the tail lifted, allowing the camera to stay mosty dry.

And the music. A change of pace. I love the message of this song, and even the way it compliments the "harsher" imaging with a touch of joy. Truth is, the storm and solitude, put me in praise mood. "

From Psalm 29

2. Give to the Lord the glory due to His name; worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness or in holy array.
3. The voice of the Lord is upon the waters; the God of glory thunders; the Lord is upon many (great) waters.
4. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.
5. The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; yes, the Lord breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon.

Black and White

2011-05-01T17:05:00.001-05:00

Black and White a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

if you need a color kick

Windies

2011-04-24T20:52:00.001-05:00

Windies a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

a bit eerie

Storm-Shine

2011-04-08T08:06:00.001-05:00

Storm-Shine a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

From one of the stormier days in America based on the number of severe reports across the states.

Wye Mountain in 90 seconds.

2011-03-31T00:37:00.001-05:00

Wye Mountain in 90 seconds. a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Kinda jerky, but still lots of fun. See if you can find yourself!

Super Moonday

2011-03-31T00:36:00.001-05:00

Super Moonday a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Extra special music, and the Super Moon itself -- though kind of tiny given a wide angle lens.

shadow play

2011-03-31T00:34:00.003-05:00

shadow play a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Ha... a light and funny one

Pyro Technique

2011-03-31T00:34:00.001-05:00

Pyro Technique a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

My second fave (Behind "Beautiful"

I may regret this.

2011-03-31T00:33:00.001-05:00

I may regret this. a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

I have since put up a longer version on You Tube.

Amber Commute

2011-03-31T00:32:00.001-05:00

Amber Commute a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

I wish this ended better. Flickr has a 90 second limit. But I am eager now to do the full song, with a little more variation. Thanks Charlie Peacock for the grooving sounds.

Beautiful

2011-03-31T00:30:00.001-05:00

Beautiful a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Thanks Mo, for making this little movie really shine. Can't wait to develop the full song.

the Big Dripper (or, self hypnosis;)

2011-03-31T00:24:00.001-05:00

the Big Dripper (or, self hypnosis;) a video by Jordan's Storm on Flickr.

Just trying out this new direct upload to Blogger function on Flickr.

Hard and Soft. (Okra and Japanese Magnolia)

2011-02-22T22:30:00.002-06:00

How many are your works Oh Lord. In wisdom you have made them all. The whole world is full of your possessions.

(Psalm 104)

Q: Why do I take pictures?

2011-01-28T08:33:00.002-06:00

A: Cause I can't play the music I hear in my head!

AR365 Day 117. Theme: Music

Today's audio track, from a pretty good band with a limited but dedicated following, playing from the 3rd finest album in the history of the world. ((A Sigh For You by DA (aka Daniel Amos) from their 1986 album Fearful Symmetry))

To follow my 365 on Flickr, check in HERE

the Shinners

2011-01-27T14:44:00.001-06:00

AR365 Day 116: Theme: Music.

(okay, were stretching this to illustrate settings that beget music.)

for more images of Ozell and Derick, or to follow my 365 project

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirkjordan/

Ozell and his nephew Derick inside the Wright Shoe-Shine Parlor, a business which has been quietly in operation for some 30 years, in a warehouse looking-space in Downtown Little Rock, AR (USA)

For your listening enjoyment:

The Soul of a Man (Blind Willie Johnson Version)

or my favorite modern rendition:

The Soul of a Man (Bruce Cockburn Version)

Quercus Borealis

2011-01-20T22:36:00.001-06:00

An old but iconic Kirk poem

A Stained Glass Spider Web Cathedral (3/91)

When funnel clouds clip rainbows

in our world, where the vestiges of Eden whirl

in a mash of mangled parrot wings

or Iris, smithereened to make

makeup,

We can see why rainbows flinch;

They don’t make it very long.

Banshee decibels defign, the decimating means:

Locomotive grinding wheel , cone of writhen hate,

vicious biting vapors, Hell-

icopter blades.

Each bashing is a moment-ary

Torque

Of glass,

disbanding shock,

Indigo

From icon wrenched

reched red, shrapnel butterflies

Violet,

Violently constr ue d, arch

From Arch etype

divorced.

(The sky is reeling odd tonight!)

I’ve read about those pristine days when rainbow shard was rare.

Lions still ate lily-pads, and rattlesnakes were raging fads

As playmates for the nursery.

Prisma-ash is pollen now,

Coursing through our breath,

Twisted beauty permeates, and I like eating meat.

The eyes of flies are pigment parks in geodesic dome,
Black radiance with chandelier, stuffed in honeycomb.

Oil on the parking lot, mimics Northern lights:
Borealis flares in beaded rain, on surfaces like night.

Death implied is banking, pivoting on air
A bloodied stink is calling to a colored thoroughfare.

Gliding white as whisper, missiles cruise the dark
Pilot fish are dental floss for shearing shard of shark.

The cacti in the desert, wear a brutal fringe,
Prickle pear, with rain, explode into a floral binge.

Snow flakes falling virgin white, in the tilted world
Would we know that dance at all, if sin were not unfurled?

Now I share my paradox:

I believe in paradise, with us once and yet to come:

"World without End…"

I believe in beauty too:

"Meadows from His garden here."

But these strange shattered-glories, fallen-splendors reign

Carving raging channels, deep within my brain

Of a convoluted beauty,

Heaven would exclude.

Note: This early poem totally baffled the class to which I presented it. Several praised the images, but it met with an almost universal “hungh”. One kid said that it said “nothing” well, then added that he liked it till it mentioned God. Now I don’t know if I missed on a communication level because the poem really is too abstract, or if I was simply working with alien themes. I wanted to press a religious question with out sounding like a bible.

To be honest, the title threw them. Folks were looking for the cathedral in the poem. But it wasn’t there. I was mixing metaphors and playing with a personal symbol. We tried not to explain our poems too much –“Bad form”; But I'll help you with the title at least.

Somewhere in the nineties a tornado hit our small college town of Stillwater Oklahoma. And not just one, but four separate cones descending like teats from an angry udder. It wasn’t a national story but it did leave a lot of broken glass and shingles and a flipped car or two in our apartment complex. Later, in typical space-head thinking, I imagined shattered glass tossed and lodged in spider webs … really ….like the bits of broken glass in church windows. The rest is yours.

Splay

2011-01-20T14:10:00.000-06:00

Gnarly

2011-01-14T11:40:00.001-06:00

And If you find it here, I never mind a Flickr vote

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirkjordan/

Cohesion

2010-12-30T12:22:00.001-06:00

The 365 group of which I am a part (a club of Arkansas based Photographers who have an outlet on Flickr, in which we post a picture a day for a year....) have recently been playing with drops of various kinds. This is my variation on the drop theme. Flickr here.

The Visitation

2010-12-29T16:22:00.003-06:00

Providence United Methodist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina on the "I'm dreaming of a white Day-after Christmas" storm of 2010. (What cleary was a storm for the the Northern States, turned Charlotte into a postcard, which in turn cleared in a couple days. This particular look is produced from a single image...(No Photoshop trickery) as flowing-blowing-snow pours through a strong shaft of light used to illumine the steeple.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirkjordan/5302401018/

You say, I say

2010-12-20T13:18:00.000-06:00

You say, I say
(correspondence with a departed poet, KSJ)

Dear Anne

It may be
that you,

Living as you do
in the radiance of city din, or eating
underneath His chin,

Are not quick to hear
poems from half dead lips,
or peer
into the dark abyss from which you
are so greatly liberated.

But,
if our Brother would consent
I pray he pass a fond hello, or
let you know that one
who labors under sun with double heart and dusty eyes
has found within your words
a sister in the soul.

--

It’s a strange thing,
this parting of the heart and posting light

(or misery)

for all the colony to see, but
could you ever have imaged that
your words would reach
three hundred fifty suns
into the future?

And now, here you are
right up front: the “first” gal poet in an anthology of American works.

Anne Bradstreet
1612 to 1672

--

I thought to tell you first, how things have changed—
Your wilderness is parking lot
and littered with machines beyond your dreams.
We wear less clothes or sometimes hold your ilk,
in poor repute.

Indeed, we think of Puritans as pleasure snuffing prudes--
stern faced zealots with a taste for gloom and work in general
But then I read your words and find

SUPRIZE!

A red blooded woman with a taste for joy and life in general

--
And now,
What’s this? Could it be
that crickets filled your ears as they do mine

Or that
oak trees powered through your soul
like living praise?

You say:

Then on a stately Oak I cast mine Eye
Whose ruffling top the Clouds seem’d to aspire
How long since thou wast in thine infancy:
They strength and stature, more thy years admire.
Hath hundred winters past since thou wast born,
or thousand since thou brakest thy shell of horn?

I say:

A seed is power
Spewing power,
Stink or weed
Or common flower.

You say:

I heard the merry grasshopper then sing,
the black-clad Cricket bear a second part;
They kept on tune and plaid on the same string
Seeming to glory in their little art.

I say:

Cricket and cicada calling
A walling falling on dawn
Black audio, rainbow snow
Blowing like a blizzard through my ears.

You Say:

Thy Swift Annual and diurnal course,
they daily streight and yearly oblique path,
Thy pleasing fervor and they scorching force
All mortals here they feeling knowledge hath;

I say:

Brother sun slices though the heavens
Like a bobsled
Running down a course of rigid nothingness
Ever pushed and pulled by pulsars
and the stellar winds of the Milky Way,
But still, He smashes the horizon
Exactly when, and
where He should.

You say:

What’s glory like to thee,
Soul of this world, this Universes Eye?

I say:

He steels a peak through the hole in the sky
We call the sun.

You say:

In a secret place where I once stood,
Close by the banks of lacrym flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was called, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other Spirit who did rear
Her thoughts unto a higher sphere

I say:

I got this doppelganger henchman
with the lusty eyes
steals my joy and deals in lies
plays with matches and gasoline
says: come on man, you can’t be clean.

You say:

Be still thou unregenerate part
Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vowed and so will do,
Thee as a foe still to pursue,
And combat with thee will and must
Until I see the laid in dust.

I say

Brother Jesu
Lend a hand
I got this ugly double-man
Hearing with my ears and talking out my tongue
How long Oh, Lord till he’s undone?

You say:

My crown, not diamonds, pearls or gold,
but such as angel’s heads enfold.
The city where I hope to dwell
There’s none on earth can parallel.

I say:

I want to dwell in that city
City of substance and form
I want to warm my skin in his eyes
And rise with the children of dawn.

You say:

Glory

I say:

Hallelujah

Rise

2010-12-14T09:48:00.003-06:00

One of the deep pleasures of riding the State Employees Van to work, is that I can take a nap and give someone else the driving frustrations. One of the chief frustrations of riding the van is being caged when all glory is breaking loose. Like these last two days of rises and sets. (But then, this bridge isn't the kind of space you can stop or walk. And the birds... a total suprise. I never saw them till I looked back at my frames.

2010-12-08T11:36:00.001-06:00

A bruised reed he will not break,
and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.

(Isaiah, attributed to Christ.)

2010-12-06T11:16:00.003-06:00

Twist and Shout

2010-12-02T10:11:00.003-06:00

"For you shall go out in joy and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."
(Isaiah 55:12)

Photonotes: Bradford Pear. 1 second or so exposure with twist and shout zooming.

Accidental Posting, Reliquarium by Kemper Crabb

2010-12-01T13:22:00.000-06:00

I accidentally posted my review of Reliquarium, by Kemper Crabb on this blogspot first, and now some of the search engines are posting this as the place. But you can find my review of Reliquarium here....where I post reviews.

Smells like Rain

2010-11-22T13:32:00.000-06:00

The Cubist contempalates Pointelism.

2010-11-16T13:53:00.001-06:00

Fall Color

2010-11-15T13:49:00.000-06:00

Global Warming. My life experience is too small to make that observation, but when it comes to weird gorgeous warm, today is it.

Hum

2010-11-12T09:43:00.000-06:00

AR365, Day 43, Theme: Thankful

This is a multi-hued thanks. Symmetry. Crepe Myrtles. Red, Yellow, Blue, with rods and cones capable of showing us that the world radiates. (Imagine those colors all being there, but you were not equiped to know it.) Then there is God's eye, giving substance to our own.

Thank You.

2010-11-11T13:54:00.001-06:00

Fred has a secret

2010-11-10T23:48:00.003-06:00

AR365 Day 41, Week 6; Theme: Thankful

I met Fred while walking back to the car. (I had just had a fine meal of Salmon at a banquet.) He saw me looking around with my camera, and asked if I might take his picture. I was able to buy him a sandwich.

One of the things I ask from time to time is "How do any of us become the people we become?" How much of who we are is sheer dumb luck, how much is determined by genes and environment (and in what mix) -- How much of what we become is the result of personal choice -- and how much belongs to the unseen purposes -- even grace of God. I am not sure we will ever untagle those riddles, though somethimes, when I consdier my place in life, I am deeply thankful.

Could'a KSJ 5/2001

Could’a been a Tyson

Slice’n chicken, or your face
Could’a been the sliced
Could’a been your face with teethy ear.
(Either way, I’d make some bucks
or fade away amidst the clucks)

Could’a been a coon dog
with a culinary nose
Could’a been in Birmingham
near the fire hose –
Catching liquid cannon balls, or
Blasting back your uppity
insurrection –

Indeed, Could’a been the one to say
“I’m not riding at the back today”
Could’a been the one to place
shackles on your hands --

Could’a been old Bobbit
now at half-a-man.
Could’a made the scissors
at the factory …
Could’a been ol’ Jimmy D.
with a giant olfactory.
Could'a been the pilot of the Inola Gay.
Could'a been some new born kid
slightly in the way -- of light.

Could’a been some buxom blonde
Before your camera lens.
You asked me to stand
right over the fan, and
I fed your lust while acting
like I didn't know.

Could’a been your weak-willed husband,
burning anger deep inside,
but without the will to take you home.

Could’a been old Abe
Or Grant or Lee
Found that vision flexes with geography,
Could’a been a blend
of honor, necessity or lies,
Led the nation into blood
Or sparred us from the greater wrath of God.

Could’a done the goose step
Could’a been a goose
Could a been the hangman
Could’a been the noosed.
Could’a been so hard, as to fan the oven
Could’a been so twisted, as to join a coven

Could’a been the ripper
or the ripped.
The hooker or the hooked.
The bookie or the booked,
The bastard or the dad,
The vulture or the lad -who didn't find fresh water.

Could have been the woman that I hold …
Could have been the child that I scold.
Could have been
any of a hundred folks on the other side of me ...

Could’a begged my change – for booze
Could’a caught my glare
Could’a begged some dimes to live
Could’a shared the air
Could’a waited for my tip
or needed a kind word,
Could’a looked to me for light
but found me self absorbed.

Indeed, Could’a been a Jeckle or a Hyde,
held a dozen people deep inside;
Could’a felt as if my brain
would fly into a trillion parts.

(okay, this I can believe.)

Could’a been a David,
Good at writin’ psalms
Could’a a been a crowd
Good at wavin’ palms.
Could’a been a Kirk
Then I’d really be a jerk.
Could’a never needed to think odd.

Could’a been a rock
called forth to sing Your praise.

Things I am thankful for. The series. 1

2010-11-08T15:59:00.002-06:00

Rays: Sunshine on My Shoulders Makes me Happpy.

H2O

Liquid Neon

2010-11-03T11:09:00.000-05:00

for a few more images: Kirk's Flickr photo stream.

man in the moon

2010-10-27T16:32:00.000-05:00

October 27, 2010

October 7, 2009

Sierra Club Generic;)

2010-10-25T10:16:00.000-05:00

Blessings

2010-10-24T23:14:00.001-05:00

Image (c) Kirk Jordan

Oh, graciously hear us,
Graciously hear us, we pray:
Pour from Thy windows upon us
Showers of blessing today.

Day 25 of the Arkansas 365 project

The Mighty Works Project, would like to thank God for the blessings of very real rain on our parched land. This fall has been so much dust, but gentle wetting rains have given new color and life to the land.

Collision Course

2010-10-19T11:11:00.001-05:00

Hosea, Can you see, by the dawns' early light.

10/19/10 tuesday Morn opened at the intersection of Sunrise, Sugar Maple, the Arkansas State Capitol, and a massive storm system. Moment later the skies turned dull, then to drizzle.

God is great.

I eye (Self Portrait)

2010-10-18T22:37:00.000-05:00

I eye (Self Portrait)

A day ago a friend sent me a link to some incredible eye photos...which I hope embace in artist way (shamelessly borrow her idea) . I was trying the approach on myself. Looking into a mirror as I pointed my macro (off center) at my eye. My guess is the self in my eye, is the image of myself that I saw as I looked in the mirror.

Day 3, 4, 5 - Self Portrait Theme

2010-10-05T09:13:00.001-05:00

Day 5

Day 4

Day 3

I will confess, I do have enough of an ego, that I enjoy snapping a pic of myself once in a while, but this week's 365 theme (Self Portraits) is kind of like giving Listerine to a Drunk. Due apologies to everyone, and I hope to be back to standard themes soon.

Day 2, Self Portrait Theme

2010-10-02T18:16:00.002-05:00

Day 1, Self Portrait theme

2010-10-01T14:25:00.006-05:00

Well, this really isn't the kind of photo I like to post to Mighty Works, but I just started with a small group of fellow Arkansawers, who are doing a 365 project. We are posting to Flickr, and are supposed to put up a pic a day. This week's theme: Self portraits. And since I have done this to other folks, I thought I was due the same treatment.

Beetle Juice

2010-09-28T10:02:00.002-05:00

Cucumber Beetle rides the Zinnia.

Not sure if its a Cucumber Beetle because of what it eats or its general color, though it looks kind of like a Gentlemanbug, in complimentary attire.

Ps. Starting Oct 1, look for a pic a day, here an on Flickr.

Harvest Moon and Jupiter.

2010-09-23T08:25:00.003-05:00

Historic Event in need of photo!

I hear this was an historic event -- Harvest Moon, falling on the last day of summer as equal day and equal night (eqinox) trade out to greater night. Beyond that, the moon and Jupiter rode the sky real close, and -- If I have my facts right, both closer to us than normal. If you look real close you can see the rings.

Ps. I have a tool that shows what people are searching for when Google sent them here. Now I imagine the odd looks for all those looking for Harvest Moon/Jupiter.

Zinnia Down

2010-09-21T09:09:00.001-05:00

For friends of the Mighty Works Project.

Starting October 1, You should get a picture and line or two of poetry per day. Turns out I have joined a Flickr group, consisting of Arkansas Photographers, who have committed to posting a picture a day. I'd like to do the same with poetry, and hope to scratch and catch something each day.

The Moving Garden

2010-09-13T14:23:00.002-05:00

Broken Poem 9/18/2001

2010-09-11T10:14:00.005-05:00

Lord

Don’t hear me wrong:

But how do You hold humming birds

aloft, or blow

feathered clouds

across the azure skies –

Even as the panther pounces

Even as a baby bounces – in his little bounce machine

Even as -- 200 feet of flying tube

frays into

a deafening array

of steel and boiled blood?

Again

And again,

And again.

I would have thought

the Universe should flicker

Like a drain upon the sun,

I would have thought the birds would drop

like tar from the sky –

I would have thought to hear each

voice,

lag behind the mouth with tape d e l a y.

And, I shouldn’t have been shaken

if electrons died.

But Lord

this ability of yours

the hear one mother giving birth

with joy,

then watch

another broken in a smash of glass and heat

600 mph to 2, in a blink

Is break-

ing me.

I know this feeling can’t be new,

Moms have pulled their sons

by the tons from ovens, cars, and rivers

or this foul aftermath of war ..

And yet the flowers bloom.

And lovers kiss a world away,

in the heat of your blessing.

And stupid children laugh.

I have played these games before.

Once there were too many stars

for my local God.

Ten-thousand stars is one thing,

but what about ten billion

in my cluster, with some billion clusters more.

I doubted You, but found

You grew bigger than my doubts,

And I swooned beneath the breadth of Your enormity.

But Lord, do you mean to stretch

my mind, till there is nothing left to stretch?

I like my lines of pleasure, clean

against the evil world –

But they are swirled and jabbed and glued

and I must close down now

Or find You bigger still, till

I have no place

left to hold You …

So will you please hold me?

911 Trilogy (original post 9/11/03)

2010-09-10T19:35:00.002-05:00

Not even a sparrow falls...

be it blown

from the sky –

Unknown.

Not a single hair remains...

be it thrown

to the wind

of oblivion and flame

Un numbered.

Not a single hurt...

or heart
or missing voice

Unheard –

Indeed...

Not ever a drop did fall,
Nor did someone heed the call,

be it not KNOWN

before the Throne

and

remembered.

----------

For more poems by Kirk see

http://startledbyexistence.squarespace.com

(911 - hOLE IN THE wORLD)

2010-09-10T15:30:00.005-05:00

(written Sept 12/13-2001)

A totally inadequate poem

So, here we have it. I want to share with you a world. I want to tell you that the world is at once an unapproachable glory, the outlands of heaven in our midst. I want to tell you that the world is alive with ongoing miracle and that the trees are like hard seaweed on the bottom of the Numa Sea . (Where did that come from?) I want too, to tell you that the thing is broken, the world has veered, and the code has been rewritten. I want you to sell your car or house, Finally, I want them to tear down the World Trade Centers… or better yet, convert them into apartments for the poor, or if not that, build some huge barn between them and make them into the front spires of a very grand cathedral.
From the Journals of the Kirk--Why do I take pictures 1985

I’ll admit,
this thought isn’t safe
or a thing I say too loud (but hear me out.)

I have seen them with a foreign eye
like turrets on a godless-church,
silvereen, and soaring high
But missing the cathedral --

Testimonies to the arrogance of man
against every rule of nature,
TALL with vertigo and force,
streaming upward like
welded boxcars --

Two silver fists
in the face of God:
Like spikes in a rotted apple.

But today, I weep
and if you will, let me
with imagination

bleed.

(a Google image)

Bleed for pagans

and believers,

the bearded business men, the

brokers and the broken,

the silent mimes and firemen,

sisters, daughters, mothers, fathers, and

these ever-feuding sons of Abraham --

Indeed,

Father Abraham
has many sons --
those who walk in faith and seek
a city
made by God;
But don't we weep to see
Faith twisted into obscene forms.

---

Today,
I see with different eyes,
and I repent .. for wearing monocles.

Could it be
that a THING might be
MORE
than any ONE thing
at once?

Today, I see what were

twin trumpets,
Blasting out a tune to
to the majesty of man.

I see
two trees
mightier than redwoods,
brushing stars
and brushed
in lemon light
like a sky-house hotel
for Leprechauns.

I see
mighty rivers decked
in vivid commerce;

Old-world villages
replete with jugglers and silk –
boats on ropes whizzing up the ditches
laden with exotic wares from foreign lands
like some grand-market
tipped upward.

I see twin
Towers,
like thin lanes of light,
Bars of gold, beacons on the rim --
shining out a tale of
industry and might
and incomprehensible blessing --
leading a parade.

I see within,
and on each floor
(stacked above each other like coins)
a little town from Arkansas
complete
with hatted men
and football teams,
the smiling bells (now wearing jeans)
and the bee-hive ladies yakking
at the hair salon.
I see faith in the 24the century.

Indeed,
We saw a universe
with fifty-thousand centers
anchored in a common block.

We heard the twine of beating hearts
like a ten-thousand drums, then
the lull,
and now, the tortured
patter of the few,

And we felt within ourselves
the stuff of horror.

Veins, and brains
and towers like slit arteries
collapsing into bloody dust
before our eyes.

..

They say, on the radio today
that this is a different country.
And we believe it.
We will never feel the same.
We are all new Yorkers, wearing black.

***

Once there were two towers
Tall as titans
Full of grace
She wore the moon within her hair,
He wore the sun upon his face,

and they walked with the I-AM
in the garden
without shame.

Then some devil of a serpent
slashed the air,

One tower fell, and then…

Floaty Line Oplusion

2010-09-09T10:20:00.005-05:00

Well, I know it’s not much of a picture, but this optical illusion makes it look as if the white stripe is hovering over the asphalt. Truth is, both the white line and darker parking line are painted directly on the ground, side by side. (The zoom of the lens during exposure intensifies the effect.) As is, I have seen this same thing done with people and oil spots, but I came by my picture purely. It was a pure accident. I only saw the op-pop afterward.

Questions for Steve

2010-09-08T01:39:00.006-05:00

This is an odd place to post, but news of Stephen Hawking's book - The Grand Design - in which he argues for the spontaneous generation of the cosmos, got me to to thinking...about stuff I've written in the past. This content below is something I wrote some 10 years ago as a book idea for my kids (which in turn, is in need of radical edit.) Not sure I would ever want to get in a tangle with Stephen, but I think my questions near the end are worthy of his consideration.

Chapter 5.5 (From the Peacock's Feather KSJ)

Chicken or the Egg

By now in science class you have learned about the things we call matter and energy. Matter is a pretty big word, and comes close to meaning “stuff” but it also includes a lot of stuff we can’t see. And for sake of this discussion, it includes energy as well. Truth is matter and energy are somewhat interchangeable. The physics of all this is way beyond me, but I understand that matter can be converted into energy (that happens when we burn a tree and the tree then becomes the stuff of ash and light and heat. Or on the converse, energy can be made in matter. That happens when the energy released by the sun interacts with chlorophyll and creates new matter. In either case we are speaking the language of movement. We speak of source and end, or CAUSE AND EFFECT,

Today, Sun energy is diminishing – even as the matter on earth gets bigger!

But before I go any farther here, I want to entertain a question you may have heard before.

What came first – the chicken or the egg?

Have you heard it?

So which did come first?

As is, there are probably several solutions to this problem.

The first (which nobody has ever suggested) is that chickens and eggs arrived on the scene by totally divergent paths. Chickens arrived on the scene, without the benefit of any precedent eggs, while eggs arrived at the same time, without any precedent chickens. The two just got together and formed a symbiotic relationship and have been working together since.

A second solution – also seldom advanced – it that chickens and eggs -- As chickens and eggs, are eternal. There has never been a time when the chicken/egg were not.

the third or fourth possible solutions are a little easier.

Either

3) the Chicken came first, or

4) The egg.

Now of course, the solution to this riddle wasn’t meant to be as easy as those answers. Metaphysical questions don’t persist by having easy answers. What is really being asked is a larger question about things with starts.

But first, lets go back to reconsider the basic problem.

Both the chicken and the egg as things, represent a “cause.” -- And a cause is something that gives birth to effect – In fact, a cause without an effect would not be a cause, an so, while cause precedes effect, it can not be divorced from effect. The two notions occur as a unit- spread across time.

Likewise, both the chicken and egg are an effect; That is, by virtue of their existence and activity, we ascertain precedent cause.

Furthermore, it would appear that that Chicken and egg exist in a circular relationship with each other, both being for one another a cause and an effect. BUT THIS ILLUSION, or ERROR – unless we speak of chicken-kind and egg-kind as opposed to individuals. For no chicken has ever laid the egg that gave birth to itself, and no egg has ever become the chicken that should lay it.

So, the thing which appears at first a riddle is less so – what we have here is not an eternal circle with no start – but a slinky.

So now – the real question. Does the slinky that is chicken and egg – have a start!

A true materialist will probably say no (thought he might fudge and talk about the big bang as if it were the start.)

In fact, cosmic-gradualists would have the chicken-egg relationship as just one of the latter and more advanced manifestations of what is at the very core of reality: An ever advancing machine in which the total energy and mass that informs the system has always been in the system. In other words, chickens and eggs ARE eternal – however, they have not always looked like chicken/eggs. At one time they looked more like stars, or a thick place in space. or (if we go back beyond the bang, maybe even chicken/eggs in the universe before the last great condense.)

On a smaller level, before you ever get to chickens or eggs, you must first come up with things like slime and water and calcium and bugs and corn and dinosaurs and dinosaurs that jump off of cliffs (including some that survive the leap for the flaps on their sides) and DNA and such.

And before that, you must first come up with stuff.

Which puts us at the very start of the problem.

Is it possible to have stuff without a start?

Or, To say it another way, which came first … Nothing, or an eternal something?

If everything came from something that preceded it, then we would assume that cause (in some form or another) is eternal.

On the other hand, if everything that is came from absolute nothingness, then we must be prepared to abandon, in TOTAL the concept of cause and effect. Make that reason as well.

For the most part, though, when anybody speaks about the moment before the big bang … they always begin with a something. It may –be pre-matter, or pre energy … it may be anti-matter … it may even be a reversal in time in which the thing which exists one billionth of a second reaches backwards into time to give itself the energy to create itself (something like that) but there is always a something. A movement, a spark, a wink, a infinitesimal bit smaller than an atom on a fleas wing …a deepening within the void, but .. always … a something. (or Everything)

And that something, as a something simply takes us back to the start of the problem … either that something had a precedent cause, or it simply IS. Something from something, or something from nothing.

Someone may object, and say that these problems are not owned by naturalistic evolution. In fact, the creation model that I advocate posits something of both difficult ideas. Something is eternal (namely God) AND, nature has “popped into being” out of nothingness … albeit by the will of God.

The difference in a theistic system and a naturalistic system begins with a distinction in the character of the eternal “essence.” We are left with a sub-rational, or a super-rational idea: either, 1) that nature is self existing and its own cause, or 2) the ever living and infinite God who is above nature in every way, may initiate in nature, an effect without any precedent NATURAL cause.

Some questions for matter-ists who affirm general reason.

Some folks, when they talk of “the big bang” think of it as a providing some kind of start. but I can’t see how it would suggest anything (at best) but a temporal-pool, or a point in history. SO …

If things with starts must have something in them that starts (or must be eternally started) what shall we call the stuff that was, some unthinkable fraction before the big bang. I don't know enough about physics or the terms implied in this discussion to know if scientist have given a name to the eternal something that precedes the universe as we know it, so I shall simply refer to it as ESS (Eternal Starter Stuff)

Questions:

Does Essential Starter Stuff exist in time? If so, what qualities of or about the ESS would give meaning to time? (In my mind, time appears to be a function of movement)

Does ESS possess, or initiate motion?

If ESS initiates motion, has ESS always possessed the quality of motion?

If ESS posses the quality of motion, is the motion constant, or does in vary in speed or duration.

If the motion in ESS varies, what qualities would help define that variation.

If the ESS knows variation within itself, is the cause for that variation within itself or without.

(If the cause for the variation is within itself, is all cause that shapes the "cause" within the cause … ad infinitum.

Or, if the cause for the variation is outside of the system, how shall we explain the origin of this cause?

Does the ESS posses the attribute of size or location.

If the ESS possesses the attribute of dimension, what other quality or variable would the ESS be measured against to define its size or location.

Is ESS Simple, or complex?

If simple, has ESS been eternally simple.

If complex, has ESS been eternally complex.

Does the ESS posses the quality of differentiation.

If so, has ESS always possessed "internal" differentiation?

If ESS has always possessed internal differentiation, has that differentiation been subject to change.

Has ESS ever changed … what would be the impetus behind that change?

If The ESS knows change (on any level, of any kind) what precedent cause would account for the change?

Here of course we have encountered an unending circle.)

Does ESS possess the quality of growth? If so, what scale or item of comparison would allow us to measure it?

Does the ESS in anyway posses any a pre-quality of any of these attributes?

Design,

Imagination

Purpose

Life

Intelligence

Order

Beauty

Pleasure

Does the ESS contain all (by way of a pooling of cause) that will go into the effects that are ourselves.

Does the ESS contain (in some form) all that will go into our history, our lives, our likes, our passions, our morals, our art, our religion – etc.

Does the ESS contain the sum total of energy or matter that will be the Cosmos?

*If not, we are back to the problem of effect (the existence of energy) without precedent cause.

Are we to say:

The "stuff" which preceded our universe in eternal. This “something” contains the sum total of energy that will be expressed in the universe. It is differentiated, and knows movement in itself, and has these attributes apart from any cause other than itself. The ESS contains all CAUSE for every thing that ever was, is, or will be.

The ESS is, and was, and WIZ.

There is only ESS.

Now at this point – it looks like we have something that is close (but far) from God.

An eternal something, that has in it the potential for all that should be realized in time (given the mechanics chance and necessity) is .. more like God, than nothing.

The only question now is – can this dead but eternal machine, apart from any will or design be made into what it has become? And here my science falls apart. For I understand that the universe as I now know it, is not a single expression of effect … but

Myriad upon myriad of effects – Is it possible to boil the all these (including the rules that should govern development) down into “one” effect –

Namely “Bang”?

Some folks have stated that if we can envision that God, is eternal, why not matter? And I guess, expressed that way, neither is real thinkable .. both confound us … but when it comes to being loved, and being in love – or knowing that I am special, or even affirming that I am self aware – the idea that that which is without knowledge, that which is without life, or purpose, or plan, or dream … That which is without the simple act of being self aware – that which is without anything but what it is becoming … is utterly and absolutely unthinkable to me. Even an evolving god, of which I and my fellow strivers, are its most recent incarnation -- dishes out the prospect that I alone am worthy of my praise – for no other being shall hear it and care.

On the other side of this great chasm, is an idea (or a revelation) that the cause behind the universe is not less than (or equal to) the universe – but greater than the universe in everyway.

Greater by virtue of power, and knowing, and presence and personality and goodness and beauty.

Henceforth,

Personality gives birth to personality.

The infinite gives form, to multiple effects (or causes).

Beyond that, the answer for Effect, that is found in CREATION, has about it certain simplicity. Chickens were created as chickens, or eggs as eggs. They came together – like a spring loaded trap, both ready to give birth to one another. The core idea behind creation is that God is larger than the system that operates under Him. The system contains power -- God is ALL POWERFUL The system contains information – God is ALL KNOWING. The system exists in space and time. God is larger than both.. Furthermore, God is FREE. He is not conditioned or forced to create. He does so most freely, apart from any cause other than that His own desire. Finally, As the First and Last, He is able to create multiple – almost infinite effects, without any precedent NATURAL cause.

Layers

2010-07-28T12:23:00.001-05:00

Zinnias. (all pics from the same patch, on the backside of the Arkansas State Capitol Building.)

The Mighty Works project exists to express the sentiment: I hope I age as colorfully as whatever these are. (I know now the are Zinnias)

The Italian Shadow

2010-07-21T11:37:00.001-05:00

He Spoke with his hands.

All pics by Kirk Jordan, from a business shoot 7/2010, where I got distracted.

The Mighty Works Project exists to herald the day, when we see things as they are, and not only in shadows.

That's Whack

2010-06-08T00:21:00.003-05:00

6/7/2010 I was heading out the door to lunch, when the boss - heading in, said "Kirk, Quick, where's you camera" - I took one quick look and made a B-line upstairs, as - for the next fifteen minutes, some of the wierdest clouds wev've ever seen flowed over Little Rock. (And frankly, I didn't capture the best ones, the ones that looked like layered waves. Angela Norton, a follower of the Facebook Mighty Works edition, says these are Altocumulus Undulatus.

Magnolia Graniflora

2010-05-18T22:42:00.002-05:00

The Southern Magnolia, or Magnolia grandiflora must be one of the most photographed blooms on the planet... And with good reason. It is simply hard to imagine anything that big, and floppy and elegant. The petals remind me of Chinese soup ladels.

All pics, t(c) Kirk Jorand and taken on the morning of May 12, 2010. For more variety, from years past check our my sister site, ID Arkansas, with a co-special on this startling bloom.

The Mighty Works Project exists to run wonder into the ground... if only wonder would submit, but it has a way of refusing.

Titan Women II: Of Whom

2010-05-08T03:08:00.000-05:00

As many of you will know.. my Mom - Eleanor Jordan, aka Miss Ellie, Mama Ellie, passed away on December 3, 2009. I always posted this, or sent it out as an Email on Mother's day... and without being too immodest...She treasured this. Its a tad long (this is the long version, with multiple generations) But I guess you can skip the parts about the other moms. For Miss Ellie, read bold.

A poem to my mom and the other mothers in my life,
by Kirk Jordan

The original Mama Ellie

If I were asked…to what the singular prosperity and growing strength of that people (the Americans) ought mainly to be attributed, I should reply: To the superiority of their women. Alex de Tocqueville.

I am the son of Titan women,
Born of water and of blood;
Born of Heaven’s will
and of the burning sod.

I am born of Terra
and of Sarah too,
a son of Adam, and
our “Father” Abraham, included
in the loins of faith.

I am the son
of strong STRONG women
and the sire of the same,
I have tasted fire,
and added to flame
of life.

Trace me back
and you will find
Irish maids and Cornish Lords,
scallywags and dumblewits,
pagans, saints, and tumbled hordes
mighty pillars, bloody swords,
and …a fire that burns back
to Eve.

--
I begin with Nana
not direct in Flesh and Blood
but sister in this ever branching tree,
and mother to the mother of my bride.
You were cut from stalwart cloth
and married to a man, who would cut
two continents apart,
and splice separated waters through
the Panama canal.

You bore humidity and insects
and the greater ravage of a man
who didn’t keep “one” home.
But through it all maintained
the strength that goes with inner dignity
and letting God consume the past.

You knew we disagreed
about some very basic things of faith,
(and science);
You held to a world, where pain
was but illusion. You shunned the world
of medicine (but lived long in you shunning)
even as you braced to bear “imaginary” pain.

But when it came to a life
lived in the spirit of Christian forgiveness
returning good for harm,
I honor your glory.

--
Then there is the Ami (Ahmee)
matron Saint of a small army,
Irish blood and New York bred,
You spoke in brogue and fingered Rosaries
even as the honor tumbled daily from your mouth
like a beautiful dripping faucet.

“Thanks be to God. Thanks be to God,” you said,
then startled the world with your maverick sayings:
I’d say “So”
You’d snap back: “Sew buttons on your underwear”
I’d say, “Sure, go ahead”
You’d reply, “Are you ready for Freddie – He’s the undertaker.”

As it is, you gave life to three -- titan women all
with the middlest my Mom;
They returned the favor
Catholic style, eighteen grandkids,
followed by so many more.
Oh, what memories I hold … the house, the smells,
the elegant clocks and beautiful glass -
Your hands tracing fragile cups or You, under the diving-bell curlers
and drinking coffee in high backed chairs…
Wild berries underneath the stairs,
Jesus standing with on the mantel with the open heart
and the painting in the basement (that I snuck off to see)
of Lilly-white women bathing in the lake.

You held on so long, so STRONG, after Delbert
your hansom, polio limping, hard working, depression schooled,
coin collecting, Protestant chauffeur
of a husband left this world,
and now we feel your absence
like a hole in the world.

like love gone away.

Next I turn to two that I knew less,
One I never met, and one whom I regret to say
that I lost contact with through adolescent inwardness
and the fray of severed families.

Edith… Mother of the Father of my bride
I understand that you were quite the saint,
and Mother of the five McGinns;
Brothers who would score their marks
as teachers, farmers, warriors, and business men;
They wore the suits of several wars
and climbed ever so far in their own private citadels.

I never met you but I see your mark
in the vigor of the men you left behind,
Men who love their country
and their faith.

-----
Grace … Mother of my dad
and conduit for so much now that gives me life.
You were a woman of the earth. A shepherd,
and a Methodist; our first Republican,
respectable and Oh, so graceful
in your pearls and lean muscled frame.

I understand that you wore pants before the time
even as you worked to tame a wild land. And what a land it was.
accessible by riverboat and mule, but never car –
You portaged up the Snake
to my name’s sake – the Kirkwood ranch.

Would it be that I owe growing love of pen to you?

I see your books upon my shelf:
Home below Hells Canyon
Canyon Boy
Idaho Reader.

Later you would climb with Len
with hard work and integrity
to places fitting to your quiet strength:
wife of US senator -- First Lady of the state.

Now the River surges ever closer:
Jean Mc Mom – Mother of my bride
I hold no blood of yours, but tangled with it daily,
even as I see your mark
upon our children, and my Bride.

You look like a titan woman
so I hope you will not balk,
When I say, that with your Jeffersonian coif,
chiseled form
and resolute stride,
You could fit by Jefferson among the rocks,
granite eyes looking out across Black Hills.

We know
that you span worlds.
architect and boss, stellar graduate of Rice,
beauty queen of Panama and
married to the man who SWAM the thing --
former atheist, and now
Sunday school teacher at the Thomas Road Baptist Church.

I won’t tell’m that you dance
a mean Charleston, or that
you once met Charles at the door
with loaded gun.
Sure he was a pilot and an officer,
in a hellish war … but no letters or phone calls
for five months
and five kids in six years, left you frazzled.

You know, that we call you the loud family.
McDad is leaning deaf but still, it seems to fit
the force that goes with all things McGinn.

And see, how the spirit of Christ within
is taming you… not a broken horse
But tempered, strong, and with a quiet joy.

We thank you for your nightly prayers
and the way, you’ve endured your own silent pains.
How is it that when you listen, my wife feels heard?

But when I try the same … well,
it just isn’t the same.

And now, a pause
I know that it's a prejudice
born of being born to you, But when it comes to you
(or Momma Ellie as she goes)
I see a broken titan,
patched with gold.

A woman of rare and enduring beauty.

My first mental picture, photograph derived
shows a little girl with hand-tinted lips
and red brown hair. They say
You favored Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz.
Or next, Audrey Hepburn in your senior picture.

Oh, what an image.
Gentle slope of a V-neck draped cross your shoulders,
elegant pearls and hair cut
daring short. Class mates would
remember the Knuckey girl, top of the class
and editor, with a cutting edge
and wild side.
Next mental picture shows you, just before you met my dad
breaking from the surf with scuba mask.
Thin cigarettes balanced on your lips, spooned hips
packaged in pencil leg jeans.

At eighteen you bought a one way ticket
AWAY From tradition and old church ways
to a California of convertibles and gold dust.
seagulls and stars.

Three years later you would wed
a young engineer and outdoorsman
sturdy with a zest for life,
the music of the Kingston Trio
dancing in your heads.

I see you there
rushing from the pines of the Wayside chapel
up the ragged coast
to the boats and rivers,
to your own pizza business
two kids,
and a small farm
so rich in childhood memories.

Next mental picture has you asking me (age seven)
What ever do you mean “Are you saved?”

As it is, I’d gone to some kid-hood missionary campaign
replete with sword drills and flannel-graph epics;
We learned of Pilgrim and his burden
emptied at the cross; and though I had yet
to visit either the Vanity Fair or the Slough of Despond
I said “yes” to the Celestial City.

Some weeks later you did too.

Conversion, for you
was never like a shift in sentiments,
No – it was like the first day of creation.

And that light
has been your life
every waking day.
and night.

And what a night it’s been.

I hope you will not mind, If I skip the glory years
when you stood strong
as Mom and wife
or, as missionary to the street-crowd,
Carrie Nation for the cause of Modesty,
Healer of other folk’s marriages.

Nor do I think you’ll mind
if I skip the greater part of night
(Though, how long it lasts).
Two husbands down, and no one now to share
your dreams of aging into godly grace and ministry.

Distant children,
Distant dreams,
And distance
sometimes even for us.

You take your wine, right off the vine; I like mine with age.
You take your kingdom in the future, past apocalypse and caged
in a thousand years. I’ll take mine – right now, albeit slow and growing like a mighty tree throughout the earth until the final day, when heaven crashes through the walls.

You take your gospel southern,
I drink mine pure black.
and
You walk in the spirit of conviction …
about some things, of which we are not convinced.

But even with our differences…

You have born
the hard humility
of giving everything to Jesus
Only to have him take your offer.

Dignity – His.
Family – His
Pleasure in the present – His.
All your hopes and dreams – His.
--

I see you now sometimes,
burdened down and grey
like a full-bodied version of Mini-Pearl
replete with Hawaiian drape-dress,
funky hat, and walker decked in ribbons.

I see you hitting the tambourine with streamers,
or doing the soft foot jig
before Baptists ever dreamed of such.

I see you (Oh this is funny)
Throwing litter back into the open window
of an offending motorist in a parking lot.
You say: “I think you lost this.”

I see you walking up to laughing black-men
dressed in suits and telling them how “gorgeous” they look.

I see you at the jail, or on the plane,
in the lanes and byways,
asking folks what they would say to God
if they met him tonight.

I see you walking into strip joints
past the surly hard-eyed stares,
and naked flesh to find
some gal who’d like to leave the life
but has to make a living.
And she’s thinking about Jesus.

I see you on your knees
every night, with sobs
like Monica weeping for her kids.

I see so many hearts,
now broken into, by the savior of the world.

I see a woman
Spit, chewed, and broken
like the fine Art of God.

I see some Titan, on
the other side of life
taller than a Redwood.

I see one
of whom the world
was not worthy.

--------

KJordan 2001

for more on the other women in my life, see
http://startledbyexistence.squarespace.com/to-the-titan-women-book/

Color Wheel

2010-05-06T13:18:00.002-05:00

Starry Starry Day

Stare at any of these pictures real long,

and after 30 seconds you may smile.

All pics, May 5, 2010, from a flower plot at work. Not sure what kind of flowers these are... they are some member of the asterace family with a complex center. The person who planted them planted them in perfect rows, wich in turn, invited making them into something less row light. Exposures range from 1/8 to 1/2 second, and I have used various zooms, swirls, and yanks (some with flash) to get these results.

The following day, with sun.

Photo Riddle?

2010-05-05T13:25:00.003-05:00

This one shouldn't be too hard, but if it helps, there is another image below, which may be even more momentarily confusing.

Air Duct Pipes, with a worker walking behind the pile.

For just a few more photo Riddles press here.

Rare Mule Deer Sighting.

2010-05-04T08:05:00.000-05:00

I was country driving (May 2, 2010) looking for some yellow... when a I saw them, a heard of rare Arkansas Mule Deer.

The Mighty Works Project exists to add amusement to your sense of dread

Wall

2010-05-03T09:38:00.002-05:00

May 1, 2010: To be honest, it wasn't the blackness that drew me out into the parking lot of New Life Church (Conway, AR) but the brightness of the clouds behind the storm. I looked out my home window and saw bold white boiling cauldron clouds high above the grey. (you can see something of the larger series on the Mighty Works Facebook Page. So I rushed to a nearby clearing to record more. Then the tornado sirens went off (on) Then they went off (off). I looked around, didn't see anything so kept taking pictures. When the second set of sirens went off some ten minutes later I figured it was time to go home. No touch down in Conway, but many reported seeing a whirling funnel over our downtown - Home of the weekend Toad Suck Daze Festival. (Looks like they lost money again this year?) This same system did generate damaging tornados elsewhere and plenty of flooding rain in Tennessee.

by any other name

2010-04-30T11:14:00.001-05:00

In as much as roses and sunsets are just some of those things that have been looked at and marvled at by billions to the point of tedium, I rarely snap pictures of the same. But the fault is all mine. And ours. I think is part of our dying that we become oblivious to marvels... even common marvels. So every once and a while I need to peel back and take a picture of a rose. There are reasons people love these things. All pics, 4/30/10 outside the Arkansas State Capitol.

The Mighty Works Project exists to thank God for ordinary extraordinary things.

Behind the Veil

2010-04-29T08:04:00.000-05:00

Not sure how many of you have ever seen Cecil B. Demill's (sp?) "The Ten Commandments” but last night's moon (4/28/10) kind of reminded me of that scene where the Angel of Death is unleashed upon Egypt, pouring like smoke over the moon.

Photo note: I have discovered that it is pretty hard to photograph both a full moon and the attending atmosphere at the same time. If you expose for the sky, you blow out the moon, Expose for surface detail in the moon, and the sky looses all light. Last night was a little different in that the moon was behind a veil of clouds... and while my picture doesn't catch the same punch a little of the spookiness is left.

The Mighty Works Project exists to thank God for God's passover...The Lamb.

As the World Turns

2010-04-28T22:52:00.001-05:00

If you look East long enough in sped up time you can somethimes see the sun fly over your shoulder, then watch yourself falling face-forward into space!

Looking North: if you look slow enough you can see the world turn on ist s axis!

All pics April 26, 2010

The Mighy Works Project exists to aks the question. In a Universe of Relative motion, cannot any point be declared "fixed" and all other points measured against the stillness of that given point?

Shadow Play

2010-04-26T16:32:00.000-05:00

I call'sem as I sees em.

From our Iris to yours

2010-04-22T08:04:00.000-05:00

I don't know how many of you look at these when they arrive... but I just took this about 10 minutes ago. Fresh, from this Iris, of this Iris, to Yours. (Arkansas State Capitol, April 22, 2010 (c) KirkWork.

The Mighty Works Project exists to consider the Iris of God...

I wonder what He sees in our seeing, that we have yet to see.

(or Something like that.)

Headlights

2010-04-20T16:25:00.001-05:00

Crimson Clover, Interstate 40 near Russelville, AR, April, 19, 2004

For more on Crimson Clover, see one of my other blogo thingees. ID Arkansas.

The Mighty Works Project exists to say "YES" to the clover, but not to the Tide.

the Master Race

2010-04-15T23:14:00.000-05:00

I figure God has made a lot of pretty wierd things, from lung-fish to pelicans to cheetas...but house-cats are not one of them.

Pic 4/5/07 KSJ Forrest City, AR

The mighty works project exists to ask the question: What has man wrought?

Vroom: The Green Tsunami

2010-04-13T23:53:00.002-05:00

It happens every year at this time, I simply cannot get used to the volume, vibrancy, and growth-velocity of the very verdant greens in our vicinity.

Picture through the front windshield while driving, (4/9/08 recycle) while employing a slower shutter speed. As for the hands. Don't ask.

The Mighyt Works Project exists to value the V.

Smash

2010-04-12T08:12:00.002-05:00

Womb on a stick, all pics Kirk Jordan, Central Arkansas, 4.9.10

Today I see cathedrals,

slamming into the sun

and grating light like cheese.
KSJ

The Mighty Works Project exists to celebrate the smash of the living-fragile (and short lived at that) against the great food-fanning blister ball.

Virid

2010-04-09T05:31:00.001-05:00

Photo-KJ, exactly two years ago - April 9, 2008: (zoom lens with concurrent camera twist.)

Ouichita River Dity
(From a family float trip, 2002)

I have seen the blood of Terra running red,
albeit rare
and more like rust, than crimson,
colored in the rinse of ruddy plains and that strange
Cream-of-Tomato dirt, in Oklahoma.

I’ve seen it too, where her blood runs blue
like mirrors held against a Colorado sky:

But here in Arkansas,
beneath the paddle stoke
the open veins of Terra tumble
in the stuff of our state color:

Camo.

Indeed, this is the kingdom of the chloroplast;

Every shade of chlorophyll on God’s green earth
is dripping from the paddle blades, pouring over jaded rocks --
carpeting the hills, exploding like whipped algae
with highlights of celery, or the little
moss on train sets, only big.

Here is the stuff of new-green and old-green,
teen–green and China,
green-tea and burnt-pea,
limon, and lima,
pine-tree and kiwi,
forrest and kelp,
verdant and virile with
spiral of vine –

Oh,
Here is the stuff of
leaf blade
and night shade,
grass snakes, and hoppers,
ten-thousand lawns and
leprechaun daughters
(Laughing as they pour,
without canoe
down mint colored rapids.)

Oh,
Here is the stuff
of olive and eye and tornadic sky
and bullfrogs and soldiers and
old moldy cheese.
SNEEEZE…

Oh,
Here is the stuff
of emerald and Kelly
‘n smelly fresh things,
bean stalks and belfries
and twiggies with wings.

Oh here
is the dead naked light
all clean, cold, and gold
splashing
back at the sun,
cell over cell
all virid
with life.

Photo Riddle?

2010-04-08T11:15:00.002-05:00

Sometimes known as the "Sulfur Coast" This arial view highlights where the coast-line of Pollenesia meets the Cobalt Sea.

(or Pollen on asphault)

Pollination

2010-04-07T16:32:00.001-05:00

Q: What do you call a country with lots of flowers? A: A PolliNation.

Purple Pansy with pollen (4/7/10) -- most of which I think was dropped by nearby tulips. Even so, I have never seen as much pollen on everything as I have this year, coating cars, sidewalks, streets, and lungs in a thick limon green.

The Mighty Works Project exists to celebrate the mind of our Great God as expressed in the sex life of plants.

The Color Purple

2010-04-06T09:45:00.002-05:00

Picture 4/6/10 Purple Wisteria

Traffic Snake

2010-04-05T08:32:00.000-05:00

Christ is Risen, and traffic is stuck.
Life goes on.
But differently.

KJ, Picture from the I-30 bridge into Little Rock, sometime in February.

Cross Road

2010-04-02T08:32:00.004-05:00

Maker of the Universe
F.W. Pitt

The Maker of the Universe
As Man for man was made a curse.
The claims of Law which He had made,
Unto the uttermost He paid.

His holy fingers made the bough,
Which grew the thorns that crowned His brow.
The nails that pierced His hands were mined
In secret places He designed.

He made the forest whence there sprung
The tree on which His body hung.
He died upon a cross of wood,
Yet made the hill on which it stood.

The sky that darkened o'er His head,
By Him above the earth was spread.
The sun that hid from Him it's face
By His decree was poised in space.

The spear which spilled His precious blood
Was tempered in the fires of God.
The grave in which His form was laid
Was hewn in rocks His hands had made.

The throne on which He now appears
Was His for everlasting years.
But a new glory crowns His brow

And every knee to Him shall bow.

Poem by London Pastor F.W Pitt, about whom I can find little information. He appears to have written in the early 1900's and has written a book on women hymnists. I was made aware of this poem as used in song by guitatist Phil Keaggy.

Picture, Kirk Jordan, March 13,2010 on Interstate I-40 just west of Russleville, Arkansas.

Broken Promise

2010-04-01T08:14:00.000-05:00

Pics from Bday retreat, Mount Magazine (Arkansas, USA) march 27,2010

Reformation at the Capitol

2010-03-31T04:26:00.000-05:00

Moonlight Madness Sale

2010-03-29T15:25:00.002-05:00

2010-03-27T13:11:00.001-05:00

The Earth is the Lords and all the fullness therein.

View looking South and East off of Mount Magazine (Mount Magazine State Park, AR)

following freshening rains. Pic, March 27, 2010 by Kirk Jordan

2010-03-26T15:43:00.001-05:00

Pretty in Pink

2010-03-23T13:28:00.002-05:00

See more from the BIG PINK as my sister blog, ID Arkansas

Taste

2010-03-21T00:22:00.003-05:00

(Test Picture from last September)

Oh Taste and see that the Lord is Good

The Big Wait.

2010-02-26T07:47:00.005-06:00

Just a note for the patient. I plan - Lord willing - to bring back the Mighty Works Project, full force in April. My goal is to go back to the Roots of the Project and offer a single photo per day, along with a verse or poem part to guide us in our deep admiration of the Artistry of Christ. Stay Tuned

Accepted in the Beloved

2009-12-03T14:42:00.001-06:00

To any who venture this way, the Welcome Home Celebration for my Mother - Miss Ellie, will be held at Liberty Church (Tulsa), this Sunday December 6, 2009

Miss Ellie April 23, 1938 -- December 3, 2009