Swirls and turns, tubings and bulbs, wrap and swirl, twist and turn, cling and reach, individual creations into one work of beauty.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Dale Chihuley's Hand-Blown Glass at OKC Museum of Art - March 2006
Swirls and turns, tubings and bulbs, wrap and swirl, twist and turn, cling and reach, individual creations into one work of beauty.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
It began with a sign and a feeling of dread. I just finished my Friday afternoon’s habit of eating catfish and French fries at the local geriatric hangout. My stomach was full and my heart was happy because it was now a Friday afternoon, and I had made it through another rough week at school. Friday afternoons tend to be my favorite times of the week.
I pulled into the garage knowing that I could no longer postpone this dreaded task that I had tactfully avoided for so many weeks. I got out of the car and walked out onto the driveway to survey the magnitude of my impending job. Although overcast and feeling the possibility of rain, I could not use that possibility as an excuse to get this over with. I just had to brave things and pull those darn weeds up anyway.
I opened the other door of the garage to roll my 60 gallon trash can out onto the front lawn anticipating filling it with the dreaded and unwanted vegetation, weeds more appropriately. I prayed the soil was still damp from previous showers during the past week to make my job easier. I searched for my five inch screw driver on the shelf above my car to help me pull these stubborn plants out of the ground. I dropped to my knees and plunged the screwdriver into the earth to loosen the soil around one of the biggest and ugliest winter weeds in the yard. Its tap root seemed to go on forever. It came out easier than I expected because I used my head this time and put on my leather gloves to give me better leverage to pull on them.
I simply went from weed to weed noting the differences in them and their different foliage and root systems. Some of them I thought were downright pretty, but I knew better than to become attached to their beauty for doing so only makes my job harder as time goes on. They spread rapidly. So, without surveying how many more weeds were left to pull as most people do, I just concentrated on the ones nearest to my body and pulled, pushed driver into the ground, and pulled more.
Thirty minutes into my job it began raining. Not the gentle sprinkle of a May shower, but the big droplets of an angry storm. Thunder shook the ground; lightning blazed across the sky. More weeds remained for me to remove.
Stubbornly, I refused to allow this rainstorm from Nature to deter my task. I continued to work despite being drenched. My hands became wet from the rain. This only slowed down my ability to grip and pull the weeds up by root, but I persisted. I was determined to rid my lawn of these unwanted plants.
The boys next door only watched me curiously from their drive and garage as the rain had interrupted their baseball game of catch. I sensed they thought I might be a little touched for crawling on my hands and knees pulling weeds in a downpour. I chuckled inside myself for I understood that Life does not always give us the best circumstances to do what we need to do. I thought of their youth and how they must always seek the comforts from uncontrolled situations out of naiveté, and I thought that someday their lessons would have to be learned regarding this small but important detail of Life. I ignored their curiosity stares.
Drenched to the skin, I spent the next thirty minutes continuing my job. Despite the heavy leather gloves, I earned a water blister on my left hand’s index finger from the toils of my labor. That didn’t stop me either. My job was to rid the lawn of the weeds the Spring winds had brought to me despite all my efforts spreading lawn food with weed killer being applied weeks before.
I stood under the protection branches of the oak tree to survey my accomplishment. I had completely eradicated the pests, by root no less, from my lawn. My trash can was filled with their corpses, and now was a good time to take them to the dumpster in the alley to rid my trophies to be transported someday to an even trashier place called the city dump. The rain persisted. Now my trash can was completely wet and catching raindrops whenever I left the lid off.
I opened the gate to the backyard on my journey to the dumpster. Damn. Right there in the puddles of water in this seldom seen by the public part of my home was more weeds. I tell myself, there’s nothing you can do but continue your job, Jerry, for they will not be ignored or go away. I had a fleeting though that I wished it would ease up or stop raining while I did this, but I recovered quickly from these thoughts. We needed the moisture. Despite all, I dropped to my knees and inserted the screwdriver in the ground near the tap root and pulled. The only difference was I did not have the boys now as an audience to look curiously at me. I pulled and crawled for another good thirty minutes.
Finally, my job was complete. I had successfully accomplished what I wanted to do: I had freed my lawn of pesky weeds. I felt that despite the obstacles tossed my way, in this instance the rain, I would prevail and I would finish my job. I was being Jerry, doing what Jerry always does, doing what needs to be done.
I pulled into the garage knowing that I could no longer postpone this dreaded task that I had tactfully avoided for so many weeks. I got out of the car and walked out onto the driveway to survey the magnitude of my impending job. Although overcast and feeling the possibility of rain, I could not use that possibility as an excuse to get this over with. I just had to brave things and pull those darn weeds up anyway.
I opened the other door of the garage to roll my 60 gallon trash can out onto the front lawn anticipating filling it with the dreaded and unwanted vegetation, weeds more appropriately. I prayed the soil was still damp from previous showers during the past week to make my job easier. I searched for my five inch screw driver on the shelf above my car to help me pull these stubborn plants out of the ground. I dropped to my knees and plunged the screwdriver into the earth to loosen the soil around one of the biggest and ugliest winter weeds in the yard. Its tap root seemed to go on forever. It came out easier than I expected because I used my head this time and put on my leather gloves to give me better leverage to pull on them.
I simply went from weed to weed noting the differences in them and their different foliage and root systems. Some of them I thought were downright pretty, but I knew better than to become attached to their beauty for doing so only makes my job harder as time goes on. They spread rapidly. So, without surveying how many more weeds were left to pull as most people do, I just concentrated on the ones nearest to my body and pulled, pushed driver into the ground, and pulled more.
Thirty minutes into my job it began raining. Not the gentle sprinkle of a May shower, but the big droplets of an angry storm. Thunder shook the ground; lightning blazed across the sky. More weeds remained for me to remove.
Stubbornly, I refused to allow this rainstorm from Nature to deter my task. I continued to work despite being drenched. My hands became wet from the rain. This only slowed down my ability to grip and pull the weeds up by root, but I persisted. I was determined to rid my lawn of these unwanted plants.
The boys next door only watched me curiously from their drive and garage as the rain had interrupted their baseball game of catch. I sensed they thought I might be a little touched for crawling on my hands and knees pulling weeds in a downpour. I chuckled inside myself for I understood that Life does not always give us the best circumstances to do what we need to do. I thought of their youth and how they must always seek the comforts from uncontrolled situations out of naiveté, and I thought that someday their lessons would have to be learned regarding this small but important detail of Life. I ignored their curiosity stares.
Drenched to the skin, I spent the next thirty minutes continuing my job. Despite the heavy leather gloves, I earned a water blister on my left hand’s index finger from the toils of my labor. That didn’t stop me either. My job was to rid the lawn of the weeds the Spring winds had brought to me despite all my efforts spreading lawn food with weed killer being applied weeks before.
I stood under the protection branches of the oak tree to survey my accomplishment. I had completely eradicated the pests, by root no less, from my lawn. My trash can was filled with their corpses, and now was a good time to take them to the dumpster in the alley to rid my trophies to be transported someday to an even trashier place called the city dump. The rain persisted. Now my trash can was completely wet and catching raindrops whenever I left the lid off.
I opened the gate to the backyard on my journey to the dumpster. Damn. Right there in the puddles of water in this seldom seen by the public part of my home was more weeds. I tell myself, there’s nothing you can do but continue your job, Jerry, for they will not be ignored or go away. I had a fleeting though that I wished it would ease up or stop raining while I did this, but I recovered quickly from these thoughts. We needed the moisture. Despite all, I dropped to my knees and inserted the screwdriver in the ground near the tap root and pulled. The only difference was I did not have the boys now as an audience to look curiously at me. I pulled and crawled for another good thirty minutes.
Finally, my job was complete. I had successfully accomplished what I wanted to do: I had freed my lawn of pesky weeds. I felt that despite the obstacles tossed my way, in this instance the rain, I would prevail and I would finish my job. I was being Jerry, doing what Jerry always does, doing what needs to be done.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Big Sur Sunset, California USA
Life is mostly froth and bubble,Two things stand like stone,
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in your own.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
God's Painting for Those Fortunate to Notice
God daily gives Man beauty for those who take time to notice.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Hand-Blown Glass Art in the Ceiling of Oklahoma City of Art - March 2006
Colors abound in this beautiful glass display of artwork.
Bricktown - Oklahoma City - March 2006
These are the moments that define Life. I am very thankful I am here.
The Cowboy and the Cabellero - Oklahoma City - March 2006
The wind-swept plains of Oklahoma witness the bygone days of the cowboy as witnessed by the bronze statue, but it also notes the cabellero of today in all his modern attire. The times have changed.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Christmas 2005
Christmas
by
Jerry D. Smith
Every time a hand reaches out
To help another,
That is Christmas.
Every time someone puts anger aside
And strives for understanding,
That is Christmas.
Every time people forget their differences
And realize their love for one another,
That is Christmas.
May this daily Christmas celebration
Bring us closer to the spirit of human understanding,
Closer to the blessings of peace.
Thanksgiving 2005
Always with a bounty of Life, ever onward into the unknown in search of all those things which enrich and make Life beautiful.
Marbella, Espana
Looking north into the Andalucian mountains with the cool wetness of the sea to my back, Marbella, always Marbella.
Stardust
By
Jerry D. Smith
One Sunday Morn in the winter of 1995
The dust settles on the glass top of the coffee table like stardust blanketing the thin air of the vast, timeless, and emptiness of space. In its quietude and serenity, and now almost motionless settlement, a near calm and peacefulness permeates the blackness and silence with only the starlight from the multitude of vastly distant stars interrupting this sweet unfolding. There has been another layer of stardust placed on this life’s existence. For all the previous sprinklings and the ones yet to be layered, life remains as it was intended to be: lived.
Stardust…..another layer.
Atop the coffee table lies a blue leather-bound book at a slight angle dusted with particles of stardust. This book, the book of holy truth, has been opened and the words written so long ago have stirred many questions within my identity. Although most of the words are thoughts, ponderings, or judgments based on life’s almost seemingly endless journey of many, many years, their messages have tilted the delicate balance of my “self” into seeking or formulating new thoughts about my life in general. Though I briefly pause to interpret and comprehend the full meaning of their written visions, I fully understand the eternal, unwritten wordless feelings and experiences in yet another important, but hidden book: the heart.
Stardust…..another layer.
Alongside the book rest an ornately framed mirror of baroque décor of heavy metal ornamentation of curves and lines. I pick up this mirror to check and evaluate my reflection. Knowing as I do that most people in society tend to project themselves as “the image in the mirror” until the time they feel secure to break with the bonds reflected in the glass and the mercury, I only allow myself to see the physical vision of my image without projecting it as who I am. I gaze cautiously, but hopefully, at this reflection and marvel how pain can manifest itself in such deceitful serenity. Quickly, the vision and the pain vanish and is replaced by my truth: “Seek the person and not their image.”
Stardust…..another layer.
Standing in a metallic frame only inches from the mirror is a set of pictures of two people each occupying each frames and facing one another displaying bright smiles of happiness outwardly created by the naiveté of time. A captured moment of harmony frozen from turmoil.
Stardust…..another layer.
To the right of the pictures is a bud vase with a single rose so fragrantly filling the air with its sweet perfume. The rose’s fragrance permeates the air but with dying intensity for it has little life remaining. Who and when someone will come to care for the rose is unknown, but Life will create the needed happiness nonetheless.
Stardust…..another layer.
Our Living Limitations
By
Jerry D. Smith
13 May 2001
Many people are in a prison. Their incarceration may not be limited to the physical body being restricted behind a guarded enclosure. Their prison may be mental, emotional, or spiritual. It may be self-imposed or subjected on them by the will of others. Nonetheless, being a prisoner is not our limitations. Accepting hopelessness, apathy, loneliness, or a loveless life would be to concede to this physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual prison. I believe the mind and the spirit can overcome such trials and tribulations we encounter in Life. The key is hope; i.e., never loose faith that Life will become better. Oftentimes, this feat has to be found on a daily basis and in small ways. It may be in the form of listening to a tender piece of music, experiencing a word of kindness from another person, or simply by an accomplishment, regardless of how small in nature. Together, these things and many more like them accumulate over time and becomes the foundation to our renewed confidence. Then hope becomes a reality for each of us.
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