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 . . .

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Art in the Den of Sinners

         The church MyMrMallory and I attend has beautiful stained glass windows. I look up at them in awe and feel some inspiration by the images. On a side note, the windows are close to one hundred years old. Mr. Chris said today that one may not stop service, or retire, but one may continue to serve for as long as one lives. I wish the beauty of the windows representing the devotion of those who lived before us to inspire everyone to serve and to quit sinning. With a history of two thousand years of sermons, lecturing, and Bible thumping, to no avail, this may seem too much to ask of some folks. So far away are they from a relationship with God, that they cannot even understand pictures that surround them as they kneel, much less comprehend the words over which their eyes glaze over when they open a Bible. And the choir continues to sing to deaf people sitting in the pews who are as deaf to the words and the music as they are blind to the message of the art in the windows.


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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.