oak of lona

this is oak of lona before the transformation into monochrome.

Oak of Lona

playing around in Picassa. First made the color image infared. then I darkened over-all scene slightly. then i used the cross process to add a touch of color, to make it look hand-tinted. then i put on the border and the signature. voila.
the color image was good too. i just like the black and white for landscape as well.

Stormy day

The day was grey and in the afternoon strong winds with intense rain and lightening made its way across Lake City. This SUV was not one of the fortunate ones. About an hour earlier, Melanie and I were returning from my sisters house in town in the driving rain. It had to be moments after we passed that a large oak fell on this car, crushing the roof. We do not know if anyone was hurt, but it sure looks like they were.
Jordon and I rode back through town to observe the damage, which was widespread. Those photographs are on my Facebook page.

Oak leaf prayer

Tomorrow I am going to attempt and make a face to face meeting with one who has cut off all line of communication to Melanie and I. It is a most unfortunate situation when family cannot forgive and accept family as marred, un-perfect and prone to failure and words of hurt, yet still, embrace and pray and keep open the family tie.
We have never faced such a snub and for the long-term health our our souls, it must be resolved and prayerfully, come to healing.

With Reverence

Let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and Godly fear.
Hebrews xii.28.
The most gracious characters are the most remote from vainglory; and are always more affected with their imperfections than their excellencies.
William Jay
1769-1853
Author of Morning Exercises for the Closet

Jay went on to say, A little learning puffeth up; but modesty and diffidence attend profound science.
Jay was speaking of Job in this devotion, how through trials, he never boasted or cursed God.
In my own life of looking down at the handwriting in the sand, I am constantly reminded of my own imperfections. I only pray that those in my life that hold Melanie and I to an impossible standard, that they too will glance toward the sand, that perhaps, they too shall find a message for them.

Robinson Branch Falls

This afternoon, Friday, in order to attempt and soothe my disheartened state over Nathaniel being withheld from us, I went for a hike along the Suwannee River at Bell Springs, Northward up to Robinson Branch Falls. The water levels are still up in the creek that flows into the Suwannee.
This was approximately a four second exposure with two Neutral Density filters on a small tripod.I made this exposure black and white due to the long exposure on the original washed out.
Again, like at Itchetucknee, I left, or it dropped out, the filter pack. I had to walk back about a mile from the car, and there it was on the trail.

Southern Exposure

 

Southern Exposure Salon
Friday while waiting for my mother to finish getting her weekly ritual hair-style, telling the stylist everything she knows about us, I was patiently waiting for the sun to shine in brilliance on the Easter display in front of the salon. Soon as I would ready the camera, the sun would go behind the fast moving clouds.
It finally came out long enough, and the blue shone through the used furniture store across the street, to allow this shot. I really liked the color scheme of the brilliant yellows.
Make photography you are at.

Way Down

Way down
by john clare

When spirit drowns
Below water level
There is found
Way down
A way back up

Ring Girl

by john clare

She took four strands of old ski rope
Stretched it taunt in a square of canvas
twenty-four feet square
in the front yard
Two feet upon concrete blocks above the
Bahia grass
Padded the turnbuckles from boat cushions
and set a sawed off  kitchen stool
in the opponents corner
took the sewing machine and made
her a silken sequined gown
with matching Everlast trunks
and on the fifth Saturday of the Month
Entered her ring
Declaring any Palooka who can go the distance with me
can have me.
In the lady-made ring stooped
the Sugar Rays
Led by glass jawed lust
for an easy lay upon canvas
The right-handed orthodox
came with dream of
being the one to have her
as one by one
her haymaker met shattered
cheeks kissing canvas.
Eventually the punch drunk
stopped coming as word of
the Ring Girl spread.
No one for her to bolo punch.
No one to hit below the belt,
 throw body punches.
No combinations.
No tomato men to defeat.
Upon the day she decided
to step from the ring
to hang the gloves
undefeated
As she floated like a butterfly
from the ring
The lower ski rope caught
her and stung like a bee
as she fell solidly to the
Bahia grass below
Hayseed settling upon
that ruby gown.
The Palooka's from far
and wide gathered
glass jaws taut
as the
Memorial ring count
sounded.

Itchetucknee Theology

To be the first to heed that call
Come!
Drift upon the sweet water
to go where the
Manatee knows
to the flow unending
strong and clear
Leap!
to the heaven leap
 tell those who dwell
above
the sweet flow is below
deep beneath that
shaky boat
Come!
Hear the heron cry
to the passers by
Know!
Know you have
Come
to the source of sweet flow
take the hand that
created wonderfully
and simply
Know.

Intaglio Etchings

This is taken from Kentucky with an image of my father and Ed Brown taking goods from the spring house.
This event never occurred, I made it up in this etching. Etching is an old art form where you coat a copper or zinc plate with resin then draw in the resin. You then place the plate with the exposed lines in an acid bath, that eats into the lines. Depending how long you leave the plate in the acid bath determines the depth and shade of the line. You can etch multiple times, covering lines with the rosin and thus control the scene. You then roll ink into the lines on the plate and rub the remaining ink on the surface off. You place the plate on a press and place your special wet printing paper on the plate and make your print. Rembrandt was a master at the etching process. His mastery of the medium has no equal.

This is my father with his uncle Barnes on his farm in Homewood, Mississippi where my father grew up.  Can you find our dog Goliath?

This is an etching of the old barn and springhouse.

This was my father bidding Uncle Barnes good-bye in 1976.

this is an etching with aquatint of my father on his place in Crawfordville, Florida by the pond, looking for squirrels in the old oak. The old home place in Crawfordville is gone, as my father, who passed away on March 12th 2011

The Lovely Shop Fire

This was my last assigment for the Lake City Reporter in July of 1981. It was a great job being the Reporter's Photographer. Sadly, Harvey Campbell and I differed with Publisher Don Caldwell and the editorial staff over placing bylines on each photograph in the special edition and it cost me my job.The vote was taken late in the evening, not to put bylines under each photograph. Harvey went into the composing room after all had left and typed bylines under each photo. Though I was not involved, I took the fall.