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 . . .

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

After Nipping

     Why, might you ask, would anyone convert the loveliness of a passionflower to black and white? Because, I might respond, it looks just as fascinating! It was something I discovered while fiddling around in Photoshop CS6 during post-processing.
      Following the suggestion made by Scott Kelby, (I have consumed his four-volume collection, The Digital Photography Book, available online.) I purchased a tile of black granite. Then I peeked outside at the passionflower vine. Upon it I glimpsed an open flower, looking magnificent. I shuddered, for my plan included nipping one -- sacrilege -- to place upon the black granite. With tripod, flash, remote shutter release, Nikon D4, and 105mm lens, I finally took an image that the wind did not render blurry.



     I placed the passionflower in a bowl with water, then delighted for the rest of the afternoon in looking at it, glancing at it, admiring it, happy that it remained open all the way to my bedtime. This morning I hopped out of bed to see it again. Overnight, it had curled up and closed, ready to create fruit in spite of its circumstance.


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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.