by any other name

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

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

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

I call'sem as I sees em.

From our Iris to yours

 
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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

Picture 4/6/10  Purple Wisteria

Traffic Snake

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

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

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