Winter into Spring

After neary a month of no blazing photo activity, given chilly skies and a grey mood, a photo bud and I hit pay dirt.

This should be the first of dozens of pictures, taken March 3, 2014. As is they closed my job and most area schools because of bad weather, a crunch sleet that fell with such exuberance it mimicked snow. And then it rained, and then is snowed. But that didn't stop friend Bill Swartzwelder and me from heading to the hills. A mighty day to be out.

“Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion!… He gives snow like wool; He scatters the frost like ashes. He casts forth His ice as fragments, Who can stand before His cold? He sends forth His word and melts them He causes His wind to blow and the waters to flow.” ~Psalm 147:12-18

Icemaker

These two pictures showcase a most amazing phenomena... that of a stick just above the surface of rapidly moving chilled water - as it catches spray from the moving steam. I assume the flowing water is just above freezing... and the air above, below the same.

Covered in Eyes

Also in front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal. In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. 

(From the Revelation of Jesus Christ)

Synapse

 





Synapse/ Ganglia

or Shout...


All the Trees of the Field will clap their hands, clap their hands, and we will go out with Joy! (From a Psalm - I think, but I cannot remember where.)

January's Eves

 

I will sing a song to Jesu

for the inking of the trees

Oh, how I love these stern lines

and cracks,

the whacked out 2-D form and split--

and the spitting in the wind

January’s eves

are those of brush and bone

brittle fingers, vapor trails, careening thread -

Edible Color: Kale

And yes, I did eat some.

      These all look to you, 

to give them their food in due season. 

(Psalm 104:7)

Fade/Where the Pac-Men are Made

Farewell, fair day and fading light! 

The clay-born here, with westward sight, 

Marks the huge sun now downward soar. 

Farewell. We twain shall meet no more. 

Farewell. I watch with bursting sigh 

My late contemned occasion die. 

I linger useless in my tent: 

Farewell, fair day, so foully spent! 

Farewell, fair day. If any God 

At all consider this poor clod, 

He who the fair occasion sent 

Prepared and placed the impediment. 

Let him diviner vengeance take - 

Give me to sleep, give me to wake 

Girded and shod, and bid me play 

The hero in the coming day!

(Robert Louis Stevenson.)

Note: When I first read this poem I thought it said Robert Frost, then I read it again and see that it is not only not by Robert Frost, but it is much about death, perhaps even war. Perhaps not the nuance I was seeking.

A hip by any other name

Rose Hips, that is

As is, I am active in a 365 group comprised of Arkansas photographers.  Our guiding themes this week is "color."  Do you know how hard it can be to find vibrant natural colors in January?  Are whole world has been reduced to cardboard and rust.   With micro explosions.



“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.”


~Genesis 18:22

Abiogenesis

This just felt a little Cellish... but without the innards.   Or maybe like an eye, without the stuff.

(Cooking oil, on  a CD, illumined with a flashlight)


Bonus: Meiosis

Because of Winter

I am part of a group called ARkansas 365.  (A group where we take and post a picture a day, according to a weekly theme.  
Theme this last week: Because of winter...

the color is stripped from our world and our eyes are given to form.

This is my brain on rain

Praise be to God, who makes the rods that flare in in liquid blue.

Stalagtites

Winter on the edge:  One degree colder and the rain might be snow.  One degree warmer and it wouldn't hang around.

Polar Vortex

I am part of a group called the Arkansas 365.  We take a picture a day.  This is my submission for Jan 8, 2014.   In response somebody called this "cute."   I was confused.  This may look cold, or brittle or even "Scritchy."   Afterward she confessed that her description was meant for another photo, onc depicting a cat.

Funky Firefighters

FireFighter Fountain "Memorial" at the back of the Arkansas State Capitol.

The real event was not this colorful.  The cast bronze figures (about 9 feet tall) were in late day shadow, and rather blue, with possible sunset highlights.   I in turn, overexposed the lot, then blew out the saturation in Photoshop.


As it is, I also post the pictures you find here on Facebook, both to my personal page, and to a special page just for the Mighty Works Project.  Turns out this picture stimulated some discussion on gender roles (in part, because I first referenced this group as Funky Fire Men.  Turns out my sister took issue... and we had a friendly but real exchange about sexual stereo-types.  (Why do men always get the power pose, and a woman the nurturing pose... Could, or should this have been reversed.)   I tend to see the sexes in the light of Archetype, so had no problem and even appreciated the nuances.  But I certainly can understand the beef if that is the only way women are portrayed.

It is not enough to see, we must do

Proof is in the pudding.  This week, temperatures in Arkansas and around the nation have been in the way sub freezing. (ie the infamous Polar Vortex.)  Some folks said it was not cold enough in Arkansas to do this particular thing... throw boiling water into the air and have it rain down ice...but the proof is in the pudding.  I see the steam, and heard the chucks of ice fall on the lawn.

Anyone know why this should work with boiling water and not with cold.

Ps.  Outdoor temp was about 15 degrees F.

In the Bleak Midwinter

I have since learned that these are Banana Leaves, and that they are left in this dried-out form to protect the tender tree parts underneath.  All I know, is that I want to cut the leaves, pin them up, then spray paint them like some great pouring tapestry.  Time I get to know my neighbors on the back fence.

---


Not sure why, when I look at these cardboard colored ribbons and curl, this song comes to mind.  But it does.

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain; heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Hostage

Add caption

Are you missing socks?  We are holding them hostage.



Hard to think of socks as a Mighty Work...but then, the feet that wear them, the minds that make them, the hands that sort them, the eyes that see them, even the soles of the souls who wear them --  all very mighty works of God.

Heritage

Oops.  It looks like I have kind of neglected the Mighty Works Project.. As is, I am now active again in a 365 group, and will try to post pictures on a routine basis.   

a

HERITAGE: This photo depicts a very special Christmas gift, things that came to me by way of way of an Uncle and which belonged to my Grandfather (who died some decades ago).  As is, I love old hymns, and find joy in the idea that my Grandfather, Delbert Knuckey would have sung the same and met God in those pages... and more, in the Word of God. Beyond that, I now wear and collect Bolo ties. I will wear this one with a deep sense of connection.  (Perhaps that is where my love for bolo's started.) I am not sure of the story in the newspaper clip (It appears to be about another Knuckey)  but this suggests a legacy of another kind, that is - our membership in the Fallen family. Oh. and the camera. yes.

White Shoulders

Billow

He makes the clouds His chariot, He rides on the wings of the wind.  Psalm 104

The Possible

I saw as it were, a flash of color... then everything went black and white...

Take 6

Take 6: The Dahlia Sessions

Dahlias clearly have a visible symmetry, and a recognizable pattern, but they achieve their look with lots of play and flourish.  The landscape inside the head is a riot of line odd French Curve counterpoint.


God was good to make the Dahlia... and if not that, to make the man who made the Dahlia from something else.


More: From the Dahlia Sessions.

Layers

Before there was the Sydney Opera House.

What do you see?

Things I see:   A Wood Duck without a bill, an Angry Bird, the pod that ate the city... and the Glory of God.

So what do you see...


A later version.  12 noon v 7:30 AM.  "Angry Bird" more pronounced.  Once you see it it will crack you up!

Paint Chart

Then God, having made the very colorful cone-head said, 

let us bless humanity by putting cones in their eyes.

Dally

Dinner Plate "Dally"  Dahlias

(From the grounds of the Arkansas State Capitol)

On the third day, God, having given the world many good plants and presents, tied the ribbon.

An abundance of Rain.

Rain can ruin your weekend

Or rain can spare your life 
Depending on who you are 

and what your thirst is like

Mark Heard.  From the song "Some Folks World"

By contrast to last year, we are living in a virtual ocean.  Last year in Arkansas the landscape looked like a post apocalyptic graveyard.  This year, God has been good to our land through healing rains.

And then the flowers crashed into the ground like streamers.

Where it started:

This is one of those ideas that didn't take on the form I envisioned.  Major problem, my lens kept fogging, after leaving a cool but dry environment, or a wet and hot.  And then I could not put a second flash out in the rain to give the high-light illumination I crave.

The rains came late, Part 2

The Rains Came Late

For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants. (Isaiah 44:3)

Driiiiiip

Everywhere I look I see such incredible math.

 fascinating to think of all the physical forces that are behind this rhythm. I know there are a bunch of fancy words to describe each factor, but at a glance I see gravity, flow, cohesion, surface tension etc, all in perfect concert to make a liquid "snow man."


Then there is that stuff of optics.

(Image by Kirk Jordan, from the Archives.)

Soft Opening

He makes the clouds His chariot; He rides on the wings of the wind.  
David, Psalm 104



Consider this a "soft opening" for a new chapter in the life of the Mighty Works Project.  I hope to start with routine posting... starting right now.  Lord Willing.

Hot of the press.  Image taken just moments before posting, 7/31/13


Photo Buff Stuff:  This images consists of two frames taken in immediate sequence.  It was simply impossible to focus on both the clouds and the leaves at the same time, so I took one picture of each element in focus,  then blent the two in Photoshop.

Defunct, but not forever

Dear friends As you can see this blog in now pretty much defunct. It has veered mightily from its original intent of being a blog that highlights the works of our beloved Maker. Not that the personal stuff is bad... Just not the intent of the original project. (I will be removing some of this content for placement elsewhere.) Starting sometimes 2013 I hope to restart the project again... with a routine mediation on the Artistry of the Living World Or you can follow my personal meanderings here: http://oneeyekirk.blogspot.com

Pyro Technique

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

My second fave (Behind "Beautiful"

Beautiful

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.

Hard and Soft. (Okra and Japanese Magnolia)

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?

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

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

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

Gnarly

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

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