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, July 14, 2011

Cool Ruidoso, Art and Weather

      A visit to Ruidoso's The Adobe, a fine art gallery, began what seemed to me an experience as refreshing as the cool temps and the rain that fell upon us, sopping us, as we walked along the streets. The art work in the other galleries we visited, too, during our "gallery hopping" -- exquisite -- represented the innate talent in the region. The moisture, almost forgotten to those of us who live in North Central Texas, gave me the strength to withstand the oven-like winds that blew as we exited the plane after returning to Kickapoo Airport and to our drought.  In my mind, though, remains the memory of the works of art of artists I saw on display in the galleries in Ruidoso.


      On our way we spotted a few rain clouds. I envisioned us lassoing them to bring them home with us.

     As usual clouds embellish my images. Here they are looking gorgeous over Fort Stanton's range.

        Rain fell to our right and left before we landed at the Sierra Blanca Regional Airport. Can you see the propeller outside the windshield? 

Ruidoso teems with artistic talent. 

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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.