At the Gonzales hearing
Photographs sometimes mislead and sometimes they tell the whole story. This photograph appeared in the N.Y. Times.
Friday, April 20, 2007
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The Crow Wing in this photograph is less than ten miles from its confluence with the Mississippi. In spring flood stage it is very beautiful. Red Ossier Dogwood grows on the far bank.
http://hrw.org/
photography, literature, signs, local life
from "The Names"
When Pohd-lohk told a story he began by being quiet. Then he said Ah-keah-de, "They were camping," and he said it every time. I have tried to write in the same way, in the same spirit. Imagine: They were camping.
In my earliest years I traveled a number of times from Oklahoma to the Navajo reservation in New Mexico and Arizona and back again. The two landscapes are fixed in my mind. They are separate realities, but they are sometimes confused in my memory. I place my feet in the plain, but my prints are made on the mountain.
N. Scott Momaday
Invocation to the muse from "Ceremony"
Thought-Woman, the spider,
named things and
as she named them
they appeared.
named things and
as she named them
they appeared.
She is sitting in her room
thinking of a story now
I'm telling you the story
she is thinking.
Leslie Silko
from "The Lives of a Cell"
Item. I have been trying to think of the earth as a kind of organism, but it is no go. I cannot think ot it this way. It is too big, too complex, with too many working parts lacking visible connections. The other night, driving through a hilly, wooded part of southern New England, I wondered about this. If not like an organism, what is it like, what is it most like? Then, satisfactorily for that moment, it came to me: it is most like a single cell.
Lewis Thomas
from "The Inner Reaches of Outer Space"
The Holy Land is no special place. It is every place that has ever been recognized and mythologized by any people as home.
Joseph Campbell
from "On Photography"
Humankind lingers unregenerately in Plato's cave, still reveling, its age-old habit, in mere images of the truth.
Susan Sontag
from "In the American Grain"
It is only that which is under your nose that seems inexplicable.
William Carlos Williams
from "Anecdote of the Jar"
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
Wallace Stevens
the best prayer I know
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
from "The Fork River Space Project"
I have just discovered I can magnify objects by a slight pressure on the lids of my eyes. My head lies on the pillow, a fold of the bedspread touches my nose. The weave is coarse. If I press lightly on the lids of my eyelids the material of the spread looks like a fishnet. If I lid my eyes and turn to face the light, I see a color glowing like heated metal. Across it motes flick, like water insects. The color changes to a smog-filtered sunset. If I give myself over to this impression, I am free-falling in space (that is my sensation), and only by an effort do I recover my bearings. I owe this to Harry Lorbeer. He started me thinking--or should I say seeing? On the mind's eye, or on the balls of the eyes, or wherever it is we see what we imagine, or imagine what we see.
Wright Morris
Blog Archive
Crow Wing River
The Crow Wing in this photograph is less than ten miles from its confluence with the Mississippi. In spring flood stage it is very beautiful. Red Ossier Dogwood grows on the far bank.
Who?
- Jamie Robertson
- 46 degrees north, 95 degrees west, Old northwest, United States
- father, husband, grandpa, would be photographer
other sites
links to sites I have a connection with
Human Rights Watch
http://hrw.org/
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