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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.