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 . . .

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Population Scientist at Gnome's House

These are the links:
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/20/population-explosion/
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/23/growth-causing-trouble/

Photo by Neta, taken at a nearby restaurant.

"The writer made so much mention of my coming back: Doesn't anyone ever return to Wichita Falls?" These were the first words out of his mouth after he entered my house. Later in the evening, I found him wandering in the hallway looking forlorn and tired. He said, "They left without saying good bye."
"Who did?" I asked him.
"The Germans. They left without saying good bye."
I wondered about which Germans he meant, then realized he referred to Dr. Wiederman and her husband, and whom I happened to have glimpsed in the dining room as I walked by moments earlier; so, I lead Werner to them.

Dr. Wiederman pointed to the silk scarf she wore, as she walked out the door, subsequently, as she said good bye, and said she matched the living room which contains all sorts of oriental things--a collection brought together from my things, John's things, his mother's and my late David's--and indeed, I thought she looked striking, especially in that room, but I think she would look striking everywhere. Her husband seemed a fine fellow, and I was glad, like Werner, that they had not left without saying good bye. Charles had to leave early, so Karen took Werner to his hotel. I was saddened to see him go before I could visit with him more.
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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.