31 August 2009

another rainy evening, so here's one from the archives...

29 August 2009

Day is done, gone the sun,
from the lake,
from the hills,
from the sky...










click Taps to read the lyrics.
Fading light, dims the sight
And a star gems the sky,
gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh,
falls the night.
"He was so astonishingly productive as a senator, yet his private life was extremely messy. When it came to Kennedy's character, you'd feel whipsawed judging it."

Lance Morrow
via boston.com...click

I think life whipsawed him, as well.





photo, courtesy of times online

He lived to comb white hair, whereas his brothers and nephews did not, observed Christopher Dodd. He referenced this Yeats stanza (click title for the complete poem)from:

In Memory of Major Robert Gregory

XI
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume
The entire combustible world in one small room
As though dried straw, and if we turn about
The bare chimney is gone black out
Because the work had finished in that flare.
Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,
As 'twere all life's epitome.
What made us dream that he could comb grey hair?


William Butler Yeats

22 August 2009

When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go--downtown
When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know--downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?


19 August 2009

where has the summer gone?

i ask that each summer, but i don't expect an answer.
carefree is coming to a close, and backpacks will soon limit swinging...

18 August 2009

15 August 2009

from the archives...

computer problems, so i'm thrilled to be back online.

12 August 2009

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

Maya Angelou

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings



09 August 2009

nordic runes, with 537 being a symbol for uncertainty.




"a pictorial treasury with over 1350 illustrations"


my fascination with birds, continues...

06 August 2009

and Fat Man followed in Little Boy's path, on August 9th, 1945.

"Since Auschwitz we know what man is capable of.
And since Hiroshima we know what is at stake."

Viktor E. Frankl
Little Boy's cloud yields kilos of cranes...

03 August 2009

"just a sort of unexplained sadness that comes each afternoon when the new day is gone forever and there's nothing ahead but increasing darkness."

robert m. persig

zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance

01 August 2009

facsimile of World War II Airplane Spotter cards.

"three silhouettes on the face of each card, front view, side view and a view of the bottom of the aircraft as would be seen by a ground observer."

available here (click)





scanned four cards, and inverted in photoshop (original featured black silhouettes on a cream background).

i just like the images.

"Before you can blame an individual for their choices, you have to make sure they have the same choices as everyone else."

Bix , the fanatic cook.