A natural riverside park were I went to relax – a long time ago.
Hoping for inspiration while writing a grant,
walking with my yellow lab who died a decade ago,
looking at a house nestled on a cliff across the river into which friends eventually moved but Connie died a couple of years ago, too young,
driving near there to visit a new friend, I noticed the flooding and came back today to take pictures,
happy with my memories.
Birgit:
Looks like you have some paintings in the offing.
Jay,
Perhaps. Water and Bark fits in with a picture that came to me as a dream and that I plan on painting – after I am done painting flames. As it says in the I Ching, water and flames are not compatible.
Birgit:
Makes me think of firewater. Makes me think of a video of people punching holes in an icy lake and igniting the bubbly product of a methane seep.
The bubbly product of a methane seep
Flick your Bic and the flames will leap
I’ll let you finish this inaugural doggerel.
Up to where the clouds weep
till all falls down in a soggy heap
Jay, my very first doggerel.
And well doggerelled indeed, Birgit.
Birgit,
Your pictures seem to have a certain low-key sadness and a suggestion of something missing. Perhaps it’s the nearly bare trees. But when one notices the new leaves coming, one is left feeling a bit more optimistic.
I may be odd in caring little for the personal memories that are linked to pictures. What I mean is I think I’d like a given photograph equally whether it was one of mine, which I could recall making, or someone else’s, which I couldn’t possibly remember. I’m always much more interested in the photograph itself
Steve,
Would you still consider the images low-key sad if you had not read the accompanying story? The nature was alive, stirring with ducks choosing their mating grounds.
Picture 1 shows my beloved diagonals. Picture 2, I could imagine the bunch of trees whirling around, dancing. Perhaps, picture 3 is a little somber except for the green sprigs in front. Picture 4 was all spring promise. The strip of grass was iridescent green, perhaps more so than in the photograph.
This morning, not mourning the loss of my dog and Connie, a more distant friend, I feel more upbeat about the pictures.
We appear to differ in our balance of the emotional versus the intellectual.
I have to say, despite the text, these photos brought up unpleasant reactions for me. “A certain slant of light” I suppose.
Too much raw nature?
Maybe. Not how to put it into words (says the poet to the artist)
oops. I guess I really meant that.
Not sure how to put it into words.
Poetry has been shortchanged since my adolescence. Perhaps, there is hope for me.
Rather like the top photo.
Thank you for reminding me to look at these photos. It was a special day in the Van Atta park.