If you are in the vicinity of the Amanda Smith Gallery in Johnson City Texas be sure to check out the current exhibition, curated by Julie Blackmon.
(Click to see the Habitat exhibition)
My photograph Jane’s House on Atlantic Ave at Friendship was selected to be part of the show.
I’m glad this image was chosen as I feel it honors Jane’s memory. We liked to say we taught together in Hell. I remember great parties- the Winter Solstice with the Useless Gift Exchange, Chinese New Year and the 10,000 Year Old Eggs , our Unpretentious Wine Group gathering with a crazy glossary of terms and a kitchen a sink that sucked down plastic garbage bags with unbelievable suction.
Unexpected find outside Zeke’s Coffee, Friday morning.
Steve waits as I capture myself in this golden orb. The weekly photo challenge – harmony
I felt happy the leftover ornament was waiting there with snow on top as we exited Zeke’s.
Definitely through my eyes-struck a chord within me, made me laugh.
“Of course, harmony also has a meaning outside of the world of music: “the quality of forming a pleasing and consistent whole.” I look forward to seeing Harmony — a photo that is, or makes you feel harmonious — through your eyes.” Michelle W. of WordPress
My sister said she’d gotten some pussy willows to hang the wooden rabbit ornaments on and I’d just written a reply to a comment from Stef,
I can’t wait to post signs of Spring.
Last week I borrowed Erika’s pink tulips in Ohio and put the vase outside in the snow to photograph the contrast.
Perhaps you saw that post.
My sister is the one who said, “Buy Spring flowers like the Germans did when you lived in Germany” and I took her advice.
This morning I went to the market to get some fresh produce and a bunch of tulips was 4.99 which I thought was well worth it. They’re from Virginia.
What a different feeling a bouquet of Spring tulips can bring to your spirit.
“We lost an hour of winter”, Mary told me when we set the clocks forward.
This afternoon the sun came in through the dining room window but it didn’t hit the table so I put the vase on the floor to catch the light.
Hope for Imminent Spring could be another title.
p.s. My sister wrote an early email after she saw the Tulips in the Sun post to ask me “did you remember to put the 3 pennies in the water? It make the tulips last longer. Hint from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.”
First posted in February 2010 and again in 2013. Thanks Timons Esaias Guest Poet
Tim’s Poem Came to Mind as I Admired the Concrete First Time in Two Weeks – Photographed Feb 2010
By Their Sidewalks You Will Know Them
Originally there were eleven Commandments
Moses, perhaps confused by the unfamiliar
snow, ice, and sidewalk,
botched one, and left it out.
But Buddha said that though Life is Pain,
falling on ice is gratuitous pain
and those who cause it, by neglect,
should never escape the Wheel of Rebirth;
and Lao-Tzu agreed, for those who will not
clear the path will never find the Way.
Zoroaster, in the endless war of light
against ice, demanded diligence;
claimed that those who surrender
the public way to the Enemy
have empty souls,
can scarcely be regarded as human.
The Prophet, regarding sidewalks and snow,
is silent; but his sura
Sand Drifting Against the Caravanserai Gate
is thought to apply. The condemnation there
is brutal and eternal.
Plato counted safe sidewalks as fundamental
to the ideal Republic, noting that those remiss
in this clear duty lacked all character;
and his pupil – perceptive, immortal Aristotle-
further declared, famously, that
lack of character
Timons Esaias is a writer and poet living in Pittsburgh. His short stories, ranging from literary to genre, have been published in fourteen languages. He has had over a hundred poems in print, including Spanish, Swedish and Chinese translations, in such markets as 5AM, Bathtub Gin, Main Street Rag, Willard & Maple, Elysian Fields Quarterly: The Literary Journal of Baseball and many others. He has also been a finalist for the British Science Fiction Award, and won the Asimov’s Readers Award. His poetry chapbook, The Influence of Pigeons on Architecture, sold out two editions. He is Adjunct Faculty at Seton Hill University, in the Writing Popular Fiction M.F.A. Program. This poem was originally published in hotmetalpoets.com when it existed.
This entry was posted on February 19, 2010. It was filed under poetry, Things in the Snow and was tagged with city scene, HIghland Park, photo of the day, photography, Pittsburgh, Poem, poet, poetry, shovel, sidewalk, snow, Timons Esaias, urban scene, winter scene.
Too deep for me.
February 19, 2010 at 7:07 am Edit
Makes me happy that our sidewalks are clear and clean – thanks to Mike!! I couldn’t handle all those punishments! Seems like an almost normal day today!! Thanks for starting it with something special!!! Did Bill mean the snow was too deep – or the poem??!! Either way, I agree! My mind is mush (like this snow will soon be) — been in the house too long!!!
February 19, 2010 at 8:42 am Edit
All tis is great Ruth. It is like your photos and words are a diary of living through these snowy days.
February 19, 2010 at 9:12 am Edit
Too wonderful for … words??🙂 Changes my attitude on shoveling, altho I am already somewhat aware that I smile and feel satisfaction when I get to the concrete! A bit anxious now, tho, about the snow still on the bushes, bending branches low over the sidewalk leading to my caravanserai gate ……!🙂
February 19, 2010 at 9:52 am Edit
There is a special place in hell
where, frozen in ice, only his rear
exposed to Satan’s teeth, he’ll dwell
whose sidewalk’s untouched while his driveway’s clear.
February 19, 2010 at 10:50 am Edit
that is one great photo
February 19, 2010 at 4:27 pm Edit
I know the snow is a pain, but it is beautiful. I enjoy the pic very much.
The result of an enthusiastic snow plower.
A pile of asphalt chunks by where I parked.
I photographed it as I was getting ready to head home this afternoon
Can you find the “puppy”? and the “smiling face”?
Like a sculpture garden as I made my way into school this morning
Cinderblock in the snow
and how the school looked through my impressionistic windshield-
on my way home
Talking about weather and the impact on our lives has taken a prominent role this season.
We’ve had enough of winter here and we’re not Boston. I see their photos of piles of snow to the rooftops. Ugh.
Not sure how they can stand it. What will happen when it all melts?
Dangerous driving, slick roads, walking warily. Ice you can’t see.
Grateful for a furnace and power. Everything seems more of an effort.
Here is Long Tail the feral cat in the garage. You may know the story about Ann next door who was in her nineties and passed and we caught two of the four young cats she’d collected and had them neutered and vaccinated and released. How they survive the sub zero temps is astounding. Steve feeds them and made a shelter.