An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Monthly Archives: March 2018

Downtown Ellsworth, a historic theater, two blocks both side of shops and offices.


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A different view of the view of Mount Desert Island that people pay so much to see either with summer homes or visiting.


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The view


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Cities
.
Large and small,
I would think that
most would think of
big cities with
huge buildings and
lots of stores and
restaurants.
.
My city,
Ellsworth, Maine,
has 7,000 +
people.
two blocks of downtown,
and the big boxes at the
edge of two small malls.
.
It is called the
Crossroads of Downeast Maine,
because you have to go thru
here to go anywhere “there”.
One has to ignore…
if you know the way,
the strip of stores
that I fear will string
from Bangor to Bar Harbor
one day,
right thru my tiny city
by the ocean.
.
I have tasted the
“real” cities
that people speak of,
that I long to visit,
and then come back
to my tiny city by
the ocean.
.
My life living on the
outskirts of Tokyo
and Yokohama,
was a fantasy life,
unusual houses,
a view of Mt Fuji
from my driveway.
.
Stores with signs
I couldn’t read,
with foods I wasn’t
supposed to buy.
Kimonos,
black lacquer ware,
tatami’s
and brocades.
.
Medieval castles
from long ago,
samueri and emperors,
sumo wrestlers,
Geisha’s and warlords
memories of the past.
.
Modern day
adults and children
celebrate
special days and holidays,
visiting the temples
in their finest
visiting the temples
reminders of the past.
.
Old San Juan
was much the same,
El Morro Castle
and a trip to the past,
as one walks thru
the cobble stone streets.
The narrow streets,
wrought iron fences,
adorned with flowers,
BUT
I must admit,
my favorite memory
was my visit to
the Bacardi factory,
the day the bottler
thru bottles
everywhere !
.
The Rain Forest,
with a giant waterfall,
lush greenery,
pristine beaches with
palm trees
and flowers I’d only
seen in photos
before.
.
I dream of trips to
Paris,
to Amsterdam,
to Greece
and
Tuscany.
Then back
to my little city
by the ocean.
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photos: Saradunn 2011

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For Theme Thursday: Tree….August 11, 2011
August 12, 2011
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Shoe Tree
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As a teenager,
my son, Bret, would have thought
a shoe tree is where his sports shoes
grew/came from…
soccer, basketball, baseball,
whatever the season.
.
it seemed like every few weeks,
“Mom ! My shoes are too small ! “
“Mom ! I’ve worn my shoes out ! “
And on inspection,
indeed he needed the “shoe tree fairy”
.
(I wish now, I’d thought to have him
put his shoes under his pillow…
that would have been a hoot.)
.
Back in the day,
shoes were cleaned, and polished,
and REPAIRED.
and cared for…
including the use of a shoe tree
shoes weren’t disposable..
expected to be worn for a long, long time.
.
The shoe tree was put inside the shoe
to keep the shape of the shoe
…to help keep the brand new look
and feel…no moisure would linger there.
.
TMI I feel, so I won’t go into cedar,
wood or plastic,
handle or no handle,
The well dressed man or woman would
not be without their favorite trees.
.
So did I tell you,
I don’t think that the trees were made
so big,
to fill the shoes
of a young man known as “Canoe”…
in case of a flood
one of his shoes could save a crew
of three.
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For dVerse….A Ghazal: Of Men and Women
August 12, 2011
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That the ages of man, women, children, repeat themselves, terrify.
that no matter what the century, the ages of ones life identify.
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It’s the worse of times, it’s the end of the human race, is the cry,
as the scholars gather and try to organize, notate and identify.
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The teenagers are going to hell, the throngs of parents and preachers speechify.
Teachers, physicians elders say they can thru the ages they know and identify.
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At the point of no return, the adults find that they can exemplify,
the growth of virtues, ethics, moral compass that all can identify.
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Elders look back, see the ages repeat themselves, as men and women magnify:
the world has changed SIGnificantly, making sure it is something we identify.

photo: free use image


The view from Jane’s driveway


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The old outhouse..for a future painting….the reason for my trip to Jane’s in Lamoine…


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The writers’ group had lunch at Sylvia’s in Ellsworth, Maine. I’d not remembered seeing this clock before.


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The Process

writers five/lunch/Sylvia’s/pies awesome

trip/Lamoine/Jane’s/photos/old outhouse

hot/raining/cold front/brings relief

people in South/West/still suffer

heat/unrelenting/hundred plus rule

Stacey called/while eating/I goofed

my humor/missed boat/apology accepted

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Cooler weather/on way/’bout time


Day 02- Something that inspires you
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The sea coast

along the rocky seacoast of

Downeast Maine,

and the beauty that is all around

each season of the year

has its beauty.

Winter,

the sun shining thru turquoise ice

on the granite rocks,

the snow on the shore,

as the tide ebbs and flows,

and the sun shines thru

to show the glorious.

Spring,

the lime green buds of new life,

along the shore

peaking thru

pink and gray granite

carved and tossed on the shore

in past ages.

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Summer,

clammers with there hods and hoes,

working hard and fast to beat the tides,

seaweed on the huge boulders

carved, broken, left during times

gone long before us.

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Fall,

melancholy as the life of summer

runs it’s cycle,

the sun warming the granite

we love to sit upon seeing

beauty in dying,

and the earth and sea,

preparing to sleep

til

.

spring starts the cycle

of renewed faith in

life along the

rocky

sea coast of

Downeast Maine.

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photo: free use image: Adventures of an Untamed Mainer



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Quoz

I’m excited
there’s a new word
for me to use..
“quoz“.
.
I like the way
“quoz” looks on the page,
and also how it sounds
on my lips.
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The problem now
is how do I work
“quoz“
into my natural vocabulary?
.
Almost half a century
ago,
it was words like
“mastication”
that sent student nurses
reeling in laughter
hell bent on saying the
word
when ever possible
to see the reaction.
.
“Quoz“.
…an absurd person
or thing.
Maybe it’s a
self defining word.
Quoz may be me.
.
“Quoz I said so !”
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August 10, 2011 re-post
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Guilty pleasure:
art supplies.
.
How boring can that be
but not for me…
lots of colors,
plain, fancy, iridescent, duochrome,
I love metallic …copper…most of all.
bold and pastel,
all the colors of the rainbow, sky, water and earth.
.
The feel of the different papers,
slick, soft, rough, silky, metallic,
sigh.
Handmade, machine made, cut in different shapes.
Candy wrappers,
wrapping paper,
catalogs in bright colors…
and National Graphic.
Cat treat bags that look like patent leather.
YUPO,
transparent and opaque.
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There are oils,
acrylics, watercolor paints.
Chalks,
pastels, of all different uses.
markers..oh, the choices we have
…thank you Crayola,
adults love you too.
pens, thick, thin and ultra-thin.
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And don’t ask me how many paint
brushes and palette knives are made,
I haven’t bought them all…
yet.
.
Can you tell that I have no idea
how much guilty pleasure
I have stashed.
Oh, I love my art supplies…
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photo: artisansantafe.com