the bone fire

Never underestimate the power of a good bonfire. We start it, can’t control it, feel it’s power, then it dies, ashes remain;

Stoke our frenzy, the hunt, for war, naked and painted;

The din, chanting, drumbeats lift us, in a circle move us, in orbit around the sun.

The Bone-fir ritual, pagan rites, a bone fire of animal bones, warding off evil spirits.

Facing the flame. Is there a martyr archetype? As we face the flame…we feel alive, How close can you get? -James

Still life with cat, at dusk

Statuette, silhouette, glass window, glass lens, cat eye, dark room, darkroom, camara obscura, the magic of the dark room.

The Ocean’s dark nap

Night picture, natural light, time lapse, painting with light, black to the naked eye, Big Sur coast, superman vision, cat vision, where are the waves?

night of the round table

In the rock, paper, scissors of life... good health and friends beat toys. -James

when horses fly

fall out of summer

In-organic chemistry

There is nothing organic about Las Vegas. Take a desert, add water, lots of neon, cooled with freon, and underwrite it with favorable odds. (at least favorable to some) Every thing green depends on a sprinkler. It's a cartoon for adults.

first light

Schizophrenia was a great scourge and therapeutic nihilism was pervasive in the 19th century, That is, there was little you could do about it, so don’t bother trying. The Moral Treatment was a popular approach and afforded patients some dignity. Big farms were associated with state mental hospitals to provide both food and occupation for residents who may live there for decades.
In semi-retirement, this barn is adjacent to the Western State Psychiatric Hospital at Staunton, Virginia. The only bounty from its rolling acres is hay. Patients are no longer allowed to work as cheap labor. The barn stands in quiet repose. - James

No lease or landlord

Removed from NYC and Wash DC by several hundred miles, most of us in Tennessee suffered collectively with the nation if not in first person by the events of 9-11-2001. But effects were felt by extension in all quarters.

On Friday, September 7 we felt about “10 foot tall”. Travis Tritt penned the country classic that has added a new phrase to the mainstream of jargon. We had concluded several weeks of negotiating and creating our dream office building. It was small and unassuming on the outside and safe harbor on the inside. Visitors could spread out in the waiting room to pass time in quiet reflection. A large salt water aquarium was to be professionally maintained. A glass wall opened up on a giant terrarium with water feature, bird sanctuary, and miniature meadow. Privacy was to be maintained by an 8 foot stone wall. I was to have a garden on the other side. Perhaps a Japanese garden with Bonsai and reflecting pool. I think now that it was to be my own personal haven.

With the dream of building equity while providing staff amenities we took home a large folder of plans and the all important contract. We sat on it all weekend while imagining the furniture, lighting, flora and fauna that would make up our retreat. Something delayed our signatures. Perhaps it was because we were still building our castle in the air and had not completed the due diligence with attorneys and financial planners. Somehow we just knew it would all work out in the end. While the television in the day room was bringing the horrors of that fateful Tuesday it seems all the air came out of our project. Perhaps I panicked but the roller coaster of the previous week took a nose dive. I made the call to the young project manager and explained that “the time doesn’t seem right for a venture like this”. This drawing is all that is left. Maybe it was never supposed to be a reality but the fall from ten foot tall was hard. (and did I read the signs right?)-James

need a sign

I am in need of a sign. somewhat conflicted. Work or play? Look inward or forward? Simplify life or thirst for new experiences. Just a sign. As we age there are conflicting pressures to speed up and divine the universe or slow down and contemplate it. Still working on what motivates. -James

Swing low, Sweet chariot

66 years ago today

On August 2, 1940 President Roosevelt dedicated The Great Smoky National Park. Thanks to those with the vision to preserve this treasure. Apologies to those who were displaced. The park did provide CCC jobs during hard times. Pollution and pests have taken their toll. I am heading for Elkmont Campground later this month. Can hardly wait. -James