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, July 11, 2010

Window Works at the Den of Sinners

             He looks as if he has very big feet from this angle, but the rendering by the artist looks beautiful. Who knows the history behind the creation of the stained glass windows at the church MyMrMallory and I attend? And today, who knows the history behind the pictograms? I asked the present reverend deacon today to show me the allusions on some of the panels, but he did not know the story behind them. I asked the present sub deacon about the panels and to which stories in the Bible they referenced, but he did not know either. If the clergy does not know, the church-goers . . . do they know? And if not, the intended education of the artistry is thus nullified. The conception and creation of stained glass windows came into existence because centuries ago people could not read the written word, and the pictograms served to tell them, to remind them, of the stories in the Bible. Today, though people can read the written word, they do not assimilate the words, and the educational importance of the windows remains. For now, the windows make the church a pretty place in which the church-goers can sit every Sunday morning. I have taken it upon myself to gather historical and biblical information about the windows for a publication.  






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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.