Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Mudpuddle selecting the very best structures to reflect, in order to devise a fascinating architectural inspiration.  For example, architect Frank Gehry has been known to walk nearby.  Central Park, near the Rambles - December 2012

Ok.  I know, Whiteish and Yellow Christmas Lights don't exactly look like this to you and me, but have we truly considered how these same lights might look to a Cannon EOS?  I thought not! Looking South on Park Avenue from 92nd Street, 2012

I hear the tangled memories, snagging through my mind, Riding along the dry arroyos. We knew each other once; I feel it in my chest, I hear the fizzled echoes. Rich red and golden passion singing through the wires, Vanishing before my eyes As if it never was. ColoradoTelephone Pole, through the widow of a bus

Many celebrated artists have difficulty fitting into the Museum of Modern Art or the Metropolitan Museum.  One of our local rather famous artist requires a very large palette  and a very expansive venue--much too much for either museum.     However, our  Artist has often been convinced to splash beauty on the more liberal outside walls.  This temporal display was witnessed by many lucky New Yorkers as they passed by the South Wall of the Winter Metropolitan of a late afternoon..

Shhh, Listen, do  you hear the quiet sounds of midnight? The silent ringing of the bells?  

Cheerful New York Artists selling their work to last minute shoppers on Fifth Avenue

There’s tar at the edge of the new asphalt road; Cold in winter, soft and sticky in the summer sun There’s nothing like a paved road/ I guess it takes a gravel, dusty, dirt-filled one to know the difference. When I walk along my mental tar-edged road, it’s December: dark, lights bubbling in the window evergreen, me longing for a way to comprehend my aching ribcage, frantic bloody cuticles. Did I eat that other box of cookies, and what will I do for the money? Dig into the old purse, the cushions fed by drunken, snoring, singing, whining, biting, sniping parties? How I dreamed of fixing everything. I new I could! (Throat aching, fingers hurting, luminescent cookies in the closet corner.) I’ll wake up willing, armed and ready: mending broken pieces, gluing back the days of childhood.  Visiting the slant-roofed farmhouse, grass high, hollow tree, full of whiskey.  Dinner at the table with the extra piece of plywood, how I dreamed of home, carsick, staring at the fading countryside. Y

Incredible Winter Tree on 3rd Avenue Incredible Fall Tree on 3rd Avenue

It’s as plain to me now as today is, you see, But that didn’t happen until recently, I did love A , with its spirit so free, But the one I forgot to consider was me. A loved the parties, the fame, the forays! It was great for awhile, but in a few days It was clear the enchantment was starting to wane, That each of us danced to a different refrain. Poor me, said I as I watched A Play, And then one day, A just faded away! I did get a note from an airport in Greece, And somehow I knew A was happy at least, And this gave me solace and left me in peace. A taught me things I would never have known About life, about love, about being alone. I got used to it too, it was easy somehow Just to travel around, just to live in the now. It was the middle of the morning; I remember it was hot, I was on my way to somewhere, when my sandal got caught, On a twig I guess it was, near a narrow wading brook. I was hot, and I was caught, and I thought I’d have a

Beautiful Winter Tree full of chilly day dreams, sweetened with winter honey, and decorated with small, patient, resting twigs.   London Plane North of the Reservoire

Tree with unintended shadow consequences

I didn’t rob a bank, oh no, or sprinkle on the DDT, I just selected A to call When B would do as well, that’s all, But B was raw around the edges, don’t you see?.  Now A has all the right relations, A has tact in situations  Needing tricky adaptations.  I have certain expectations! And I resent your accusations! B would never do in certain semi-formal situations!   Oh, but my B , I left B over near the spring, B loves the sound of water so, B cares for the country folks, you know, You'll be all right, I said  You'll forget about me soon. Yet, it's B I carry in my heart, humming the off-key tune,

This gorgeous view is from the Hill overlooking the Harlem Meer and the Conservancy Garden, Winter is setting in from the chilly tree tops to the earth below.  Harlem Meer from the Hill, December 2011 January Prediction..... Hill Overlooking Harlem Meer, view #2

My black cat named Shelter Came into my palm on a cold winter evening Not unlike this very day. A little thing, born on the streets and starving. An old German shepherd seemed to want a bite, So home I went with Shelter. That's just the way it happened. I think it's in the nature of things Hydrangeas with Winter Colors in the Conserevancy Gardens

Going quietly among silent, reflecting things... New York City Mountain Laurel

Perhaps you have been wondering, as so many have, where the colored bits of raw material for Kaleidoscopes originate.  It so happens that there are Fall Kaleidoscope Bit Farms here and there, although they are almost never identified correctly. They are Master Mimics, and often confused for ordinary fall bouquets. Craftily, our roaming photographer has  located and captured  on film a Bit Farm of notorious illusivity. 

This day last year it was clear, cold, the sun was shining, and today was an unborn dream

 Strange goings-on behind two blurry mailboxes Blurry Mailboxes and Colorado Cottonwoods--November 2011

Free! Incredible Fall Beauty Take one Free; Get the Second one F R E E !!

It was the apple that stuck in my mind under those eves of winter.  A  small farm with a long chicken house and a few cows. Frost on the hay, creaking floorboards  An apple after dinner from the winter barrel. Up into the attic with a small bed left from his high school days.  There wasn’t any starting out, no big bang, no starting over  Just a melting in of circumstance, A final evaporation in the cold.

Woman walking away from the sun near Ridgeview Way * Crestone Colorado, Lara C. * "...In later Theravada texts as well as in Mahayana and Vajrayana Buddhism, the Middle Way refers to the concept, enunciated in the Canon, of direct knowledge that transcends seemingly antithetical claims about existence." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_way

Old red barn in the late fall sun, Southern Colorado.

These two Griffin-like plant beings are locked in mortal combat over the policies for opening and closing their gates.  Guess where!