“Dryness promotes the formation of flower buds…flowering is, after all, not an aesthetic contribution, but a survival mechanism.”
Ann Haymond Zwinger
The Mysterious Lands
It amazes me how quick our vision of what is going on can all change so quick. A couple of days ago I was on top of the world. Everything seemed crystal clear. Then I awoke with what felt like a plugged up ear. I have this constant high pitched ringing that sounds like a huge industrial fan sitting on my right shoulder. My equalibrium has been thrown out of whack and I have a hard time keeping my balance and have actually fallen a couple of times.
While my vision is as good as it ever gets, I feel very much like this image taken from my chair in the living room.
Trying to get back to center! en theos monos ††† jim
“God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.” ~John Muir
Out of the same plowed field near Coyanosa stands this old lone tree. A skeleton of it’s former self, but it greets me as a friend every time I stop to make it’s photograph. I fear with every passing that it will be plowed under or felled by natures course. I enjoy it everytime I pass and will miss it when it is gone.
enjoy the pleasure of old friends. en theos ††† jim
I made this photo in the early 1960’s. Over fifty years ago when I was just a young teen. It changed my life and in a strange way took away from me more than it ever gave.
I loved baseball and photography. I had complained to my dad how awful the sports photos were in our daily paper. My dad suggested I do something about it. Go make some good photos and sell them to the paper. I did. They started buying my photos to the tune of five dollars each. At the age of 12, I was taking in an easy hundred dollars a week making photos. Additionally, parents would buy prints at the same price. A pretty good allowance for a young teen in the early sixties. Football followed baseball, then faded into basketball and then returned to springtime and baseball.
This photo was made on my very first night of attempting to make baseball photos. Beginners luck and all that. Heck looking through a twin lens reflex, everything was backwards and reversed, it was like trying to cut your own hair in a mirror. Two or three times a week, after playing a game and still in my baseball uniform and cleats, I would exchange my baseball glove for a rebuilt and battered Rolleiflex and a used Metz electronic flash. I had to respectfully argue with coaches and umpires that I was with the newspaper and had a right to be there. From the Irving Daily News, I had an editor, Jack Harkryder and a sports editor, Hardy Price that stood by me and taught me to stand my ground. I was a working member of the press and had the right and reason to be there. I also had the loving encouragement of my dad who had served in WWII as a Navy combat photographer. He critiqued and taught me along the way. He provided me with MOST of the tools needed for my journey.
This image went on to win several photo contests. The best was a National photo contest sponsored by Kodak ( the yellow God of Rochester) an event that won me two hundred and fifty dollars. I was hooked.
But real quickly, I was hooked to the wrong passion. I quickly started seeing and finding ways to make money with my photography. I lost the innocence and the wonder of just making photos for the sole purpose of feeding my soul. I was more interested in feeding my wallet and not my heart.
I remained on that same path (and it ain’t the narrow one) for far too long. I am returning to the sheer joy in the delight of finding images that warm my heart. I truly believe that this pleasure of feeding my heart will provide for me. And if it doesn’t, I will die with a very full heart. While you can’t take a lot with you, I believe a full heart stays with you to the end.
Follow a path set by your heart, not money!††† en theos †††jw
“As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”
Henry David Thoreau
The path may seem long and there will be turns, but it will lead you to the right place. ††† en theos †††jimwork
The winds they did blow the last couple of days. We had 60mph gusts. It takes a toll on people and structures. This old house in Coyonosa TX had a heavy list long before the recent winds. I thought I should record it before it finally collapses. I even tried to lean into it, but it felt as solid as other any standing shack, shed, shanty or lean-to.
“I believe in going with the flow. I don’t believe in fighting against the flow. You ride on your river and you go with the tides and the flow. But it has to be your river, not someone else’s. Everyone has their own river, and you don’t need to swim,float,sail on their’s, but you need to be in your own river and you need to go with it. And I don’t believe in fighting the wind. You go and you fly with your wind. Let everyone else catch their own gusts of wind and let them fly with their own gusts of wind, and you go and you fly with yours.”
― C. JoyBell C.
It’s important to find the right wind to fill your sails , after all that is where the answer is blowing!
pezful ez feelin’ @U ††† en theos ††† jlawrence
We were on the return of a nice little walk towards “The Window” in the Basin of the Chisos Mountain in Big Bend National Park. There she stood, Casa Grande (Grand House). While for sure not the tallest mountain in the area, it is one of the most outstanding by way of it’s presentation.
My grandfather, James Welsey Metcalf, who I am named after, worked the Big Bend in the early 1900’s. He had run away from his home of too many brothers, dreams and too soft a bed. He landed as a 13 year old in the wilds of far Southwest Texas. When I was a young boy, he introduced me to the draw of this place. I reveled in his stories of the adventures he told. Looking at Casa Grande I could not stop being reminded of him and I longed for just a taste of his life.
I am sitting in the ease and comfort of a too soft chair and a mind full of dreams: the longing of the nicker of a horse, the squeak of leather, clear air and a bed under the heavens. I settle for pushing some buttons on a keyboard, converting a modern digital image to look a little like it might have been. but it’s too sharp, too clear, too easy. It smells of compromise and just not quite right.
Ah, I pine to be able to push the right buttons to elicit real change in my life..
Dream of your journey…nada te turbe † jim
I had spent a chilly morning being greeted by a golden sunrise and was pulled to the old Terlingua church to use as a foreground for photographs. When I entered the unlocked heavy wooden door I was quietly surprised at the remaining grace and simplicity. A swell of the active past of this church came alive in my heart. The quiet of the moment settled into my body and I felt like a purring cat in a warm place. All trouble and worry was lifted, gone just as the bustle of this place. Weddings, funerals, Mass and confessions all echoed as quietly as an old lady working her Rosary beads.
Enjoy the quiet of your journey…nada te turbe†††jim
Freelance Writer • Columnist• Blogger at Unwanting
Photographers living with or affected by mental health challenges; supporting each other one photograph at a time.
The closet exhibitionist comes out into the light...
This is a haven.
An Occasional Diary of Everyday Life and Travel in the U.K. and sometimes elsewhere
Beats Stumbling Around in Silence
Tips, slips, stumbles, and leaps on the creative journey
One Poet's Writing Practice
A FellowTraveler in God's Kingdom
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Bringing Hope to Those in Dark Places