Unconcerned
Unconcerned
I forgot to post yesterday’s snow photo! The catkins have finally begun to open, but the catkins do their thing even under the snow.
Reflections of Snowfall
Reflections of Snowfall
Trees and rocks and snow on a the steep banks of the creek; I only wish I’d had my better camera handy since the little one fails me except in bright sunlight.
Diamonds in Air
Diamonds in Air
When that fine powdery snow blows around in the wind on a cold morning so that the early golden sun highlights each tiny crystal it looks as if diamonds are floating around in the air, flashing as they turn and fly. I tried to capture it, some even have little rainbows; I think I’ll try my cross-screen filter next.
Snow on Snow on Snow, 2010
Snow on Snow on Snow
I admire the snow’s balance.
I still find it beautiful, too, this lovely frozen world.
Carefully Balanced
Carefully Balanced
We had a lovely snow squall last night, big fluffy flakes swirling all around for about an hour, and in the dark, later, all was frosted in powdered sugar. This morning, all the snow still carefully balanced on every branch and twig, no matter how narrow. Here, just a few big snow clusters fell at the right angle to cling to this tiny twig, and then others fell atop, leaving lacy spaces in the miniature snowdrift on the twig. You can see one sparkling snow crystal facing the sun about the middle, and the rose of sharon seed pod is about one-half inch, to give it scale.
Surprise Snowfall
Surprise Snowfall
A little bit of a surprise snowfall began mid-afternoon today and fell heavily for about two hours; though it didn’t amount to too much, the big soft flakes falling straight and then at angles were lovely.
Hemlocks, Snowy Morning
Hemlocks, Snowy Morning, 7″ x 10″, pastel © B.E. Kazmarski
The view out my side window of my neighbor’s hemlock trees with the hills far beyond and the morning sky with clouds and sun and snow. In this sketch, I not only wanted to capture the sun streaming through the hemlock and the cool colors of a snowy morning, I also wanted to capture the nature of the hemlocks, their shape and growth habit, the straight trunks with the branches that tend to break easily, the bare little twigs inside the tree, and the tufts of needles at the ends of the branches. At one time there had been another hemlock that completely blocked the view, and the sun, hence the bare insides of these trees. I hate to see a tree go down but when that one was lost in a storm it literally opened up a new view for me, and much more sunlight.
Where this site has featured a daily photo, I’ve decided to also use it for my occasional sketches. At one time I always carried some art materials with me as well as my camera. I fell away from the sketches, mostly landscapes and Main Street and still lifes around the house, as life grew a little too busy for a while to take the 15 to 30 minutes needed for a little inspiration. As when I visited the Panhandle Trail on Christmas day, I hope to post more sketches in addition to the photographs from each day.
I did not photograph this scene, only drew it as I stood at the window, so you have no photo to compare.
You can purchase this sketch matted and framed in my Etsy shop or as a variety of print styles and sizes up to 48″ x 72″ on my Fine Art America profile.
I also post daily sketches of my cats on The Creative Cat as well as daily photos, which many people follow already; today Mr. Sunshine had something to say about this sketch in particular.
This Way and That Way
Tracks
A thin layer of snow covers the ice in a barrel in my yard, birds walked all over it to explore.
Settling Into Evening
Settling Into Evening
Sunset fading orange casts a warm glow on snow-covered rooftops and streets; shadows tinge violet. Houses, mill and more houses march across the valley in courses, filling from one hill to the next.
Poem for Inauguration and Martin Luther King, Jr.: The Mystic Chords of Memory
O, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On Saturday, sitting at a long traffic light, I patiently watched this immense flag wave against a clear blue winter sky, photographed it through my windshield over a dozen times trying to capture the perfect moment of grace and meaning. There is no perfect moment, not for the gently waving flag, nor for we the people: all moments, good and bad, beautiful and ugly, come together to create a course of history.
The more I’ve learned of history and see the violent transfer of power in some other countries even today, the more fascinated I am with our peaceful transfer of power—especially after all the divisiveness and general bad attitude that surrounds every election.
Upon watching the events of Election Day in 2008 when this nation moved a black family into the White House, I, along with many others, truly thought it would never happen. And yet it did, peacefully, even joyfully as people who had never voted stood in line all day to cast their ballot for both sides of the ticket. Participation in this process is our right and responsibility, and we the people need to remember that.
We have always had strife and disagreement in this country as we’ve moved to recognize everyone who lives here as an equal voice in our national conversation, and that we can resolve this peacefully is our greatest strength as we showed the world it could be done by the will of the governed. Yet it was also one civil war and the violent deaths of two leaders that moved us forward to the moment of inaugurating this president, and the words of these two leaders echoed all through the presidential campaign in 2008. As I watched Election Day 2008 unfold I remembered the words of those two leaders and wrote this poem.
The Mystic Chords of Memory
I begin with an epigraph, the closing paragraph of Lincoln’s first inaugural address:
I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stre[t]ching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
And so do we remember, in this time of change,
Another time of strife and uncertainty
When our nation would be pulled apart
Not by something so esoteric as a failing economy
But by the real threat of war, among ourselves, on our own soil;
Not a metaphorical war, not of words and ideas,
But of guns and blood,
And brothers and fathers and mothers and sisters,
Neighbors and friends, everyone, no one would escape its reach.
And so we fought that war, and though severely wounded, we survived.
Yet a century later we were still fighting this battle in our streets.
We forgot those who had already given the last full measure of devotion(1) for this cause.
We were reminded that we must live together as brothers or perish together as fools(2),
And that the fierce urgency of Now(3) demanded that we make real the promises of democracy(4),
Echoing the words of a century before, and even a century before that.
But we took away his dream, too,
And the dreams of others
Until the bloodshed frightened us,
Reminded that a balance cannot exist without compromise,
And an uncompromising nature destroys everything in its path, including itself.
I remember those days of my childhood,
Of the fledgling hope that we could simply live together in understanding,
But I watched people tuck away their hatred to keep for another day
And it only grew distorted,
And a half century later, we still fought the battle in our hearts.
But to my great surprise and joy,
I watched a nation of people,
Touched by the better angels of their nature(5),
March to the promised land(6),
Happily wait all day, finally cast their vote
For change, for hope, and for love of this great experiment in liberty and freedom,
Ready to begin again the work of remaking America(7).
1Abraham Lincoln, “Gettysburg Address”, dedication of the battlefield at Gettysburg, November 19, 1863.
2Martin Luther King, Jr., quote.
3Martin Luther King, Jr., “I Have a Dream”, speech given at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C., August 28, 1963.
4Martin Luther King, Jr., “I Have a Dream”, speech given at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C., August 28, 1963.
5Abraham Lincoln, “First Inaugural Address”, given in Washington, D.C., March 4, 1861.
6Martin Luther King, Jr., “I See the Promised Land”, speech given in Memphis, TN, April 3, 1968.
7Barack Obama, “Inaugural Address”, given in Washington, D.C., January 20, 2009.
“The Mystic Chords of Memory” © 2009 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
Read more poetry here on Today or visit my poetry page to see more about my poetry and other writing, and to purchase Paths I Have Walked.
Paths I Have Walked, collected poems.
I’m proud to offer a folio of my poetry
Paths I Have Walked: the poetry and art of Bernadette E. Kazmarski
FROM FOUR ANNUAL POETRY READINGS AT ANDREW CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY & MUSIC HALL IN CARNEGIE, PA
People who attended one or more of my poetry readings encouraged me to publish some of my poetry in a book from the beginning.
Once I completed my 2010 poetry reading, my fourth featuring the final piece of artwork in the “Art of the Watershed” series, I decided it was time to publish something and it should be those four poetry readings.
Poetry books are not best-sellers; it’s difficult to convince a publisher to risk effort on a beginning poet, and while self-publishing is the best option it’s not inexpensive and once you’ve got the book, someone’s got to market it. Plus, I’m a graphic designer and I designed books for years, and I want things my way.
All of this is a recipe for a little bit of trouble, but I decided the book was well worth the effort so I designed the book myself and had a set printed—no ISBN or anything formal, but it’s a start! I’m really excited to offer it.
Books are 4.25″ x 11″, 40 pages of information and poetry, with glossy covers featuring “Dusk in the Woods” and little thumbnails of all four pieces in “Art of the Watershed”.
$8.00 each plus $2.50 shipping (they are oversized for mailing first class).
You can order one on my poetry page, or in my Marketplace.
About the books and the poetry readings
My biggest inspiration for poetry, prose and artwork is the world right around me, and I enjoy the opportunity to share it from the perspective of one who walks and hikes and bikes and carries a camera, art materials and journal everywhere—even around the house—so the inspirations are fresh.
In December, 2006, two of my poems were chosen to be published on a section of the Prairie Home Companion website entitled “Stories From Home/First Person” for submissions of writing about the place we feel most familiar. I’m a long-time listener to PHC and reader of Garrison Keillor’s books as well as a daily listener to The Writer’s Almanac featuring news about writers and writing and of interest to writers as well as a poem, all compiled and read by Keillor himself. I was astonished to find my poems were among the first chosen from apparently thousands, and so happy to be able to share them with a potential audience of so many similarly inclined writers and readers.
My poetry readings and art exhibits were the vision of Maggie Forbes, executive director of the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall, after learning of my publishing of those two
poems. I owe her many thanks for encouraging me to present this combination of my visual and literary art, a first for me. I love that building, every inch of it, and the opportunity to bring people in to visit is an honor.
Poem for Saturday: The Last Red Berries
The Last Red Berries
The sun illuminates the red nightshade berries, visually shocking in their brilliance, as the vine stretches gracefully to both sides like a reclining figure before the stolid block pillar and squared garage doors. Still, I’ve walked down this alley before and not seen it; the reflected light from the snow must have given the berries that extra boost, and the snow itself seems to underline the sprouting vines.
The Last Red Berries
What gentle lesson I learn from this nightshade,
unwanted in its habitat, its toxins legendary,
growing as it is from a crack in the pavement
no other greenery but itself for comfort,
facing unprotected the wind and cold and precipitation,
yet gracefully spreading tangled limbs and
offering its berries to birds
who tolerate its poison and disperse its seeds,
and patiently waiting for spring.
Surely in all this, we can find a friend, if we can be a friend.
©2009 B.E. Kazmarski
All that for a weed—or at least an invasive perennial vine that is mildly toxic.
Read more poetry here on Today or visit my poetry page to see more about my poetry and other writing, and to purchase Paths I Have Walked.
Paths I Have Walked, collected poems.
I’m proud to offer a folio of my poetry
Paths I Have Walked: the poetry and art of Bernadette E. Kazmarski
FROM FOUR ANNUAL POETRY READINGS AT ANDREW CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY & MUSIC HALL IN CARNEGIE, PA
People who attended one or more of my poetry readings encouraged me to publish some of my poetry in a book from the beginning.
Once I completed my 2010 poetry reading, my fourth featuring the final piece of artwork in the “Art of the Watershed” series, I decided it was time to publish something and it should be those four poetry readings.
Poetry books are not best-sellers; it’s difficult to convince a publisher to risk effort on a beginning poet, and while self-publishing is the best option it’s not inexpensive and once you’ve got the book, someone’s got to market it. Plus, I’m a graphic designer and I designed books for years, and I want things my way.
All of this is a recipe for a little bit of trouble, but I decided the book was well worth the effort so I designed the book myself and had a set printed—no ISBN or anything formal, but it’s a start! I’m really excited to offer it.
Books are 4.25″ x 11″, 40 pages of information and poetry, with glossy covers featuring “Dusk in the Woods” and little thumbnails of all four pieces in “Art of the Watershed”.
$8.00 each plus $2.50 shipping (they are oversized for mailing first class).
You can order one on my poetry page, or in my Marketplace.
About the books and the poetry readings
My biggest inspiration for poetry, prose and artwork is the world right around me, and I enjoy the opportunity to share it from the perspective of one who walks and hikes and bikes and carries a camera, art materials and journal everywhere—even around the house—so the inspirations are fresh.
In December, 2006, two of my poems were chosen to be published on a section of the Prairie Home Companion website entitled “Stories From Home/First Person” for submissions of writing about the place we feel most familiar. I’m a long-time listener to PHC and reader of Garrison Keillor’s books as well as a daily listener to The Writer’s Almanac featuring news about writers and writing and of interest to writers as well as a poem, all compiled and read by Keillor himself. I was astonished to find my poems were among the first chosen from apparently thousands, and so happy to be able to share them with a potential audience of so many similarly inclined writers and readers.
My poetry readings and art exhibits were the vision of Maggie Forbes, executive director of the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall, after learning of my publishing of those two
poems. I owe her many thanks for encouraging me to present this combination of my visual and literary art, a first for me. I love that building, every inch of it, and the opportunity to bring people in to visit is an honor.
A Straight Line
A Straight Line
Possibly a good way to begin the year, but virtually impossible for most of us.
But train tracks always fascinate me in their absolute perfection of line in this part of the country. This line variously clings to the side of a hill before running along the edge of a hill and crossing a number of tunnels and trestles. The topography is everywhere here—hills come in every shape and size, creeks and streams run down every hill and along the bottoms of hills, little back roads wind back and forth with creeks and yet the railroad lines predictably go in a straight line off to the horizon, aside from ones that make lovely gentle curves like another local line I photographed last week.
This line actually does go gently around a curve where it disappears in the distance.
Snowy Rooftops
Snowy Rooftops at Dusk
Dusk is falling yet the snow reflects light from the sky in its violet-dusk way, each home capped with a pale violet rectangle.
Around the Curve
Around the Curve
The single line of tracks follows the bends of Chartiers Creek and the heights of a natural highwall as it has for at least 100 years. Tracks, trees, dried plants, on an overcast day there are no shadows, only black and white, like an ink drawing.
A Delicate Balance, 2010
A Delicate Balance
The dried pods of the Rose of Sharon look like hands reaching to catch the gentle snowfall, each flake silently landing on another, piling lightly, filling the space between to make a perfect cap, glowing with the warm light of sunrise. Some things are so beautiful they must simply be seen.
Still one of my favorite snow photos.
Holiday Lights
Holiday Lights
Whatever holiday you celebrate, the return of the light is a part of it. Happy Holidays everyone!
Closed for the Season: Songbird Nest
Closed for the Season
All the summer birds have flown, leaving their homes behind. Next year the couple who built this nest will return and refresh the materials, but for now it stands open to the elements, collecting snow and rain, some animal fur and perhaps its own down loosened and waving in the wind.
In walking along Chartiers Creek this day, I found at least a half-dozen nests of this type, usually only one per tree, and the trees were most often seated in the crook of sapling branches about 5 to 10 feet above the ground, growing at the top of the creek’s banks.
I wouldn’t guess which species of nest this might be, but it would be a songbird because it is small, cup-shaped and placed in a tree, and likely the bird would be a insect-eating bird because this area, in summer and fall, would be full of mosquitoes, gnats, moths, butterflies and other types of flying insects, day and night.
If you have an idea what type of bird the nest might belong to, please leave a comment.
Celebrating the Solstice
“Solstice”, pastel, 6″ x 6″ © B.E. Kazmarski
This painting is indeed from the Winter Solstice about a decade ago. As the sun began to set on a zero-degree day with a foot or more of snow the light was so beautiful that I took off in my car with my camera and art supplies. At the top of the hill the gentle pink and coral tones of the sunset melded with the blue of dusk on the field of unbroken snow at the old Christmas tree farm, one of my favorite spots. It was too cold to draw outside since I can’t wear gloves and would soon be dropping my pastels in the snow, so I positioned my car on a convenient side road and sketched this in my front seat. As it does sometimes, the sun seemed to hang in the trees just before it disappeared: solstice, “sun-stand-still”. It’s just a little thing, 6″ x 6″, one of my favorites, especially now that the place is gone to development. It became the inspiration for an exhibit I hosted in 2004, “Winter White”.
And this painting, which I’ve always loved so much, has a wonderful home with a friend who also loves it very much.
Long Hard Winter: 2010
Long Hard Winter
A deer skull left behind along one of the trails. Not so hard this past year, but 2010 was pretty rough.
I visited a conservation area for one of the environmental group to photograph the site generally and plan for signage in an abandoned mine drainage project on the site. The site is a flood plain in a valley along a creek, and snowfall is deep; I know because I had been trying to get into the site from the beginning of February in order to begin the signage project, but the snow was waist deep, and it persisted into mid-March. Any animal that did not hibernate or go dormant had a challenge finding food and even just getting around.
Nature happens in even the kindest of places. This is probably not from this year because the skull looks too weathered. It may be that a scavenger simply dug it out in its quest for other food. I can picture the tan fur, the dark, soft eyes on either side of the skull and the velvet, upright ears, even the dark muzzle of an alert white-tailed deer looking at me from the trail.
A Small Group of People…2010
A Small Group of People © B. E. Kazmarski
…making a difference reclaiming an old slag heap.
In this case landscapers, Boy Scouts, construction engineers, grass roots leaders and individuals are planning The Liberty Tree Grove.
I rolled in a little late for a meeting with these people as we were to gather to work out the actual landscaping and signage, making sure it met ADA requirements. I am designing the signs, including a large interpretive sign at the entrance and several smaller signs.
The concept is to plant seven saplings from historic trees, each one honoring a branch of military service, and providing a way for individuals to read about and observe each of these trees and enjoy the hilltop views from the new park. The seedlings you see in the photo are two of the seven, which were planted last fall.
Trees have often been given significance through history as meeting points, property markers and commemorative points. The Liberty Tree concept is derived from the Revolutionary-era elm tree in Boston Common where the patriots met and proclamations against King George were given; many towns in the colonies adopted the same practice designating a tree in their own town under which to meet and plan the revolution.
The trees in this grove are grown from seed or cutting from trees that marked historic events or places or were planted in honor of a person or event. For instance, a honey locust grew near the speakers’ platform at the site of the Gettysburg Address, and the Gettysburg Address Honey Locust in the grove was grown from its seed, while the Patrick Henry Osage Orange is grown from a cutting of a 400 year old tree that is the focal point of Red Hill, Patrick Henry’s estate and resting place in Virginia.
The site was a strip mine, now reclaimed by the mining company to remove any hazardous waste, grade the land and add topsoil so that it can be safely reused. A grade school is on one portion of the land, and the park comprises several ball fields for different age groups, a playground, concession stand and this little triangle of a grove, right at the entrance.
I love working on projects like this. I’ve learned about Liberty Trees, met some interesting people with whom I may work again in the future and been able to share knowledge, skill and connections I’ve gathered from previous projects.
And not only to see the signs when they are installed, but I’ll also be going back with my binoculars to watch for birds. As we met at dusk birds were swirling and singing, and many migrants aren’t back yet. I can’t wait to see what shows up out there on that hilltop surrounded by tree-covered slopes.
The quote is Margaret Mead: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has.
That’s it, even if there’s snow right behind you, stand up, throw off those old dead leaves, get your blossoms in order and feel the sunshine, and all those other cliches that still work! It’s a warm sunny day after a cold, snowy month.
