Photographic and poetic meanderings along the countryside or while flying an airplane.
Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Oh, Gnome Skips Lecture . . . Again.
It's just that ever since I moved to Texas in 1984 I have developed an increasing interest in its history and people; so, when the Kemp Center for the Arts and the MSU Museum of Art collaborate on a field trip to visit artists and art museums within a two hour drive -- I cannot resist going in lieu of attending lecture by a fabulous professor. Yes, it is a difficult decision, a tug of interests: Reduce my ignorance in South and Southwest literature or reduce my ignorance in regional art? I visited Joe Barrington at his home and studio, met his lovely wife JJ -- whose striking work caught my attention -- then met Bonnie Siebert at her house and studio. I chatted with them about their work, listened as they told me tidbits about life in general, and felt intrigued by everything. At the end of the field trip I had the opportunity to see JJ's work in Albany: Several photographs of women in several poses, with and without suitcases, either returning or leaving, sitting on the [sidestep] of a 50s car, or walking up (or down) the railroad. JJ asked the viewer to ponder about the circumstance of the women in the photos; I said, they're too smart to remain in one place and they need to see the world. JJ responded that if that's what I felt they did, then that's what they did. Cool exercise that made me wonder what other women thought about the subjects in the photos.
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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin
JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.
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