Articles on travel

Road Trip; Flexibility and Destinations

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Above the Dam Broken Bow Lake Oklahoma
The spring break trip has come and gone with many lessons to share. My son and I
have grown in our relationship and that’s a good thing…no really even despite Dad’s growing pains.
Being the explorer that I am and having the need to live as large as I can, I planned an amazing trip across Oklahoma. I planned a trip to the northwest tip of the state. I wanted to show him Boiling Springs State Parkin Woodward, Alabaster Caverns, and the Great Salt Plains State Park and finally the Wichita National Wildlife Refuge, it was going to be amazing.
Unfortunately and fortunately that wasn’t the trip that happened. Instead of this great cross-country trip we went to Beavers’ Bend State Park in Oklahoma.  It’s a wonderful place to visit but not something new to me-not many options for new magnets.

 

Broken Bow Lake Oklahoma

 

First positive thing, we spent about a fifth of the money that we have traditionally spent. Second, I didn’t drag an unhappy teen on a trip that I was trying to make happen. Of all the aspects we pride ourselves on these trips is flexibility and this trip was no exception.
Our first night was fishing in the rain, amazing conversation and a bit more hydroplaning than I would have preferred. We didn’t catch anything, maybe a cold.
Had a pretty wonderful yet frugal dinner at Abendigos and did something you sometimes can’t manage with a teen, we talked.
The next day was cloudy but bright. We spend a large portion of the morning sleeping in. Fished a little and than picked up a friend of ours that had just moved there and spent the rest of the day with two teens and again, talked.

 

There is something beautiful about teens laughing, being silly and yet still talking about life, the good, the bad and the ugly. We hung out in a park, ate sweets, talked, had a wonderful dinner at the blue rooster and finally had an amazing deer run, one of my very fond teen memories with my family. We saw twelve deer and laughed like we were a bunch of juveniles, it was a really fun day.
The next day we fished before leaving the park and I learned more about my son and myself. I have come to a conclusion-we are both growing but it’s a good healthy thing even if I haven’t been on board in the past, it’s working out just fine.
He drove most of the way home and again we learned-the dance you do on the highway with trucks and other cars much like the parent-child relationship. You pick up speed, you get too close, you slow down, and it’s an intricate dance as each of you adjust-not too fast, not too slow, not too close and not too distant.

Unfortunately he has to find his own speed and his own comfort and my job is to allow him the highway and open space to become the man he will be and at this time I’m excited for the road ahead. A bit of freedom, a bit of flexibility and this trip through life I think is going to be worth writing about…. next stop anywhere, stay tuned.
Articles on travel

Winters Beautiful Demise….Welcome the Spring

I came out this morning with the expectations of a grey winter day as a contrast to the beautiful sunny day the day before.  Instead I was greeted with the telltale signs of winter’s demise; springs’ buds overwhelming a gray landscape.

I could smell the air and how the winter jasmine is giving up its final fragrant boast for attention. Soon the wild flowers will return along with the impatient bees. The birds have already started their chorus and the squirrels are out and about.

The cold steel breezes have given way to a gentle rush of mild spring air.  It was a wonderful and welcome surprise, the only problem is that it makes the shadows of indoors that much more profound. I realize why we clean in the spring.

 

Just days ago I was photographing the winter and basking in the mortal feeling of winter and its white austere countenance. The cold frozen blanket and the dark, gnarled branches of the trees, its almost as if nature has put on its formal coat, dressed for a funeral.
Now we notice the seeds that will find excitement of  light and color in the summer. The buds of the plum in the front yard foreshadow the inevitable flowers and fruit inevitable in the spring.
You don’t realize how much you’ve missed spring until you realize how long you’ve been in the greyness of winter. Life is all about contrast, all about change.

Being aware of the differences of the seasons is what makes us mark time and realize we are still breathing.
Articles on travel

Finding the Light

 










Finding the light – Photography is all about capturing light
Etymology of the word Photography

The word “photography” was created from the Greek roots φωτός (phōtos), genitive of φῶς (phōs), “light” and γραφή (graphé) “representation by means of lines” or “drawing”,[3] together meaning “drawing with light”. The root of photo means “light” while graphos mean “drawing” Etymology directly from Wikipedia.


It has been kind of gray in the Dallas area lately and while I have had the urge to photograph I’ve come up a bit flat. This morning was the first time I noticed the missing ingredient; light.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to photograph the sunrise and will have to rely on memory and pastel sketches- “A Sunrise I Missed” stay tuned for another blog post after the sketches are done. The amazing thing about this sunrise is the fact that the sunlight painted everything like a divine paintbrush.
The effects of the light make damp snow shine like diamonds, intensifies the color of the sky and turns flat shadows to deep blue hazy contrasts to golden light. It is called the magic hour and it happens just after sunrise and right before sunset when the light is at its perfect angle to the landscape.
The shadow and light play add drama and depth to a flat scene. It turns the snapshot into a work of art. Photoshop enthusiasts and polarizer lovers can stand aside as nature needs no touch ups, no enhancing.
There is no better feeling for me as a photographer knowing where the sun will soon appear and waiting for its spectacle. There is a silence when you have reached the peak of its display, only your breath as you pull the trigger and the wonderful sound of the shutter snapping.

Sometimes you only notice it so profoundly after you haven’t seen it for some time, it is a subtle but powerful process. It is why it’s called photography-it is literally drawing with light and the quality and richness of that light means everything to the photographer.
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An Unsigned Portrait

An Unsigned Portrait - This portrait I will never sign, it was never mine. Even though the colors are 
familiar and the strokes are uniquely a piece of me, I have barely laid a brush 
on the canvas. In fact, more of my flaws you will see than any of my strengths.

I have stood in awe, as this work became itself. I have not even the slightest
knowledge nor understanding of the medium and yet I welcomed the idea of
creating it, a small piece of the artist is that which is created as just a
whisper, not too much detail and yet enough to clarify the artists vision.

In this particular work, I must admit the painting has taught me more than I
could ever explain. Now as it becomes theirs’, a work that will be shared with
the world, I seem to be more clueless than ever before.

I can’t articulate the purpose or vision; it is so far beyond the comprehension
of a mere artist. The strokes I have taken in recent seem more discordant than
ever, it seems I can only damage the canvas and being an artist and a creative
person seems more like a detriment than a virtue.

I am clumsy, my colors are unsure and even worse than all of this, I am so
irrelevant. And yet the finishing touches beg for my attention. I keep my
distance, I sort of need to these days because the closer I get to perfecting
the masterpiece, the more I realize it has nothing to do with me and it is not
mine. So I won’t be signing this canvas, I wont be taking a bow to the audience
no more than I could stand in judgment of my lack of skill-the painting has
become itself, I have been barely present and yet the lack of myself has meant
everything in its creation.

I won’t sign this work, I will leave it to the audience to decide and they will
finish it. They will never see the beauty I see, nor understand its amazing
virtue-only I can see this and my deep love for it has made me the worst critic.
I can only judge myself in its shadow and I never come up as nothing but a hack
painter, a novice, a word smith without words to describe… so this painting,
this beautiful amazing painting will never be signed.

Articles on travel

On the Road-Movie Review

On the Road-Movie Review : I watched On the Road Today- a story by Jack
On the Road-Movie Review : I watched On the Road Today- a story by Jack
On the Road-Movie Review : I watched On the Road Today- a story by Jack
Kerouac, what struck me more than the actual texture of the film was the underlying theme. First off, I realize why critics like movies that can seem boring from the surface, I believe it’s more the texture of the film, the interaction between characters and the interplay of scene and character, this is only a theory.
The beginning of the film deals with  the free spirit of the beatnik generation. You could sense a lack of purpose and the desperate need for it. Drugs, jazz and conversation fill the gaps of boredom as a group of would be writers search for purpose in 1947 New York. Each character yearns for inspiration on the brink of killing themselves or enjoying the absolute rapture of sex, drugs and jazz and not finding fulfillment with either avenue.
I was bored in the first part of the movie, a boredom that after watching the whole movie was actually empathy for characters seeking fulfillment through various reckless avenues and coming up empty. I can relate to the feeling of searching for that which feeds the soul.
My interest grew with the traveling portion, a passion I could truly relate with. I think there is a common bond among writers, an intense need to experience. Desperation for changing atmosphere, to see new places and learn new things about your surroundings and ultimately the self in relation.
To me, there is no greater adventure than the road. It brings solitude and introspection all highlighted by an ever-changing environment. I love how mountains begin as distant phantoms and grow to dwarf the traveler. I love the first smell of the ocean or how a city or small town disappears as the speed limit increases and you realize how much open space separates town and city. I enjoy finding out of the way diners, holes in the wall, people who are passing through or the regular fixtures of a diner or pub.
I love to listen to peoples stories, how their town used to be, how there’s no barbecue like this place left, A barbecue place in Knoxville or an amazing little diner in Bakersfield. You connect the dots, you realize freedom is just a walk outside your house and beyond the walls of your life, this I believe is a writers’ paradise.
 
Unfortunately for the writer, the truth bites hard, the fact that there must be some form of conformity, due to the innate need for financing the road. Freedom is not free, it is a choice that can cost us everything, and there can be much suffering in not conforming to the standard programmed life. We must balance our freedom and ability not to be tied down by our highly demanding lives, relationships and the cost of being free to roam.
 
 
We must be realistic with who we are-we must balance relationships, family and finances. Just like Free Love was a farce the ability to not be tied down by anything has its drawbacks. The characters in On the Road experience the pain of wanting to be free and how we hurt those we included in our lives, Nothing is perfect, from the corporate man that keeps one job to the traveler who ties themselves to nowhere-there are drawbacks and costs to each.
In the end, you see the selfishness that costs one writer everything and the wisdom of the other character conforming to some of societies contracts.  I believe there is a possibility of compromise between the two lives.
I have seen people that live outside the corporate and programmed life, there is a feeling of elation in the succeeding on your own terms but there are also the life pangs which I consider necessary to feel alive.

There is nothing more amazing than the difference between having to rely on meager sustenance, the ramen noodle diet and splurging for an amazing meal, Just as warmth is never such a blessing than from someone who has felt the cold deep in ones bones. I believe the extremes are the only way we can truly enjoy the full breadth of our lives. So for those that get out on the road, figuratively or literally, enjoy the pangs, they will give way to rapture in the elation of succeeding on our own terms.
 
 
 
Articles on travel

Creative Spring……and Winter Gray

Experimental photography – I am in a holding pattern at the moment. It’s like having something on the tip of your tongue, something that is just outside your memory, a word you have problems remembering. I am having a creative slump but at the same time I can almost envision the next paintings and the new writing.

I have been looking at older paintings and there is a sense of detail that I think I have relaxed a bit on in recent paintings. I am excited about creating water with the feeling that you can touch the bottom.

There are many paintings that are floating around the studio, each in different stages of completion-I sit in front of them and nothing. You just can’t force it when there is nothing there, no images, no feelings and yet the impetus is strong.

So today on a snowy day in February I photographed. I tried to see things that weren’t obvious.

I experimented with the winter Jasmine in the front yard in a way that I could captured its essence, I experimented with several Fstops for varying depth of field. So I can’t say I’m completely satisfied but the inspiration and the creativity is getting closer, it’s just a matter of time until I start painting and writing furiously.

I even messed with some old oranges, I liked the rich colors of the oranges with the cold winter background. The fact that they didn’t quite fit in the winter landscape is what I thought was interesting.

Next, I shot inside and adjusted the images until they were almost artwork instead of photos. From the teens addiction to the cell phone to the study of a red couch in the snow, I was just trying to be open to anything that presented itself.

I am excited about shooting much more in the near future and hope to have many photographs of our upcoming trip. Stay tuned.

 

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Winter Jasmine

Winter Jasmine poetry
Icy fingers climb the spine
But you remind me of spring
Out of the ice your spindly tines
Frozen right before my eyes
You insist its spring
You remind me every time I pass
Rich yellow flowers defy the senses
While other flowers sleep in silence
You’re awake
You haunt me with the intangible scent
The sunlight through winter curtains
Another evening spent
I wait for the sunlight to melt the ice
Wait for the cold to leave the spine
Bees on lost scent trails
Ants from burrows deep in the ground
You insist its spring
A fragrance bold and loud
Beside the ghosts of summer
Broken stems. Black and grey
I planted you last winter thaw

So convince me,  spring is on its way…
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Achieving the impossible

Achieving the impossible

 

 

 

 

 

 

Achieving the impossible – It would be a foolish task to aim at the impossible and yet people that do tend to reach heights their piers can only dream about. These days it seems mediocrity is more noble than achieving your dreams.

There is something about those unique minds that don’t seem to realize they are attempting something that is not only unlikely but to many impossible. I applaud those that seem foolish enough to succeed at their dreams because of one very important flaw in their character: Naivety.
If someone never questions if they will succeed they often either learn lessons in not succeeding or succeed even beyond their expectations.
Self doubt is the weight we voluntarily carry, it allows us to give up. The excuse is a wonderful benefit of self-doubt, it allows us to stop running the race before it even starts.
Common obstacles:
  1. Excuses, Excuses: If we live on excuses we never have to do anything out of our comfort zone. Success is impossible-what is the point of chasing after pipe dreams. Grow up and stop dreaming, excuses are the drug we use when we’ve given up on what we want for fear of failure.
  2. Blaming others: Blaming others allows us to skirt the issue, it’s not our fault we failed, we’re just not lucky, we weren’t born rich, we weren’t born with options others have.
  3. Self-doubt: If we spend so much time explaining why our idea won’t work we’ve already given up before we started. There is a beauty in those foolish enough to proceed even when the odds are against them.
  4. Expectations and reliance on others: If you expect a hand out from anyone, you are doomed to put your life in a holding pattern. It is the obstacle that allows us to procrastinate, it takes all the control and the blame off our shoulders and assigns just reasons why we can’t achieve the impossible.
  5. Afraid of work or sacrifice: Few successful people accidentally succeed, they work for what they have, and they chase their passions tirelessly. They are fully committed and their passion allows them to sacrifice the time and effort necessary to succeed.
  6. A lack of passion: We often chase a dream that may be programmed by well meaning parents or a job that ensures wealth or a life of ease. The problem with this tendency to live a programmed life is a lack of passion-how do you work tirelessly if you have no passion in the act of the pursuit nor full understanding of what the end game means. Wealth will not make you happy, chasing your dreams and seeking your passion will.
We must be realistic but not in the pursuit of our dreams instead realistic in who we are-what is our passion, what would fulfill our lives and make us content. I once thought I wanted to be a travel photographer and yet during the years of raising a family, the last thing I would want was to be away from them. The goals and dreams we seek must be in line with the people we are and that we only learn through time and experience.
My advice, shoot for the moon, be foolish enough to succeed, live a passionate life full of learning, exploring and adventure. We only grow old when we give up the great adventure, so start your book, start a screenplay or make plans for the Oscars, the sky is the limit and the only limit is your drive, passion and imagination.
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Treading Water

Treading Water
I want your peace, you give it as a gift
I only lick the edge of the plate
Ignoring the state of bliss
I bask in dark water
It’s how I comfortably swim
As I drown in a slow whirlpool
I won’t ask again, I’ve seen my shadow on the bottom
And my eyes were always scared
I trusted you
The thin skin of the water
A blackness I can barely discern
And a thirst I can not contain
I remain in this water
Smelling the memories of winter
And fall
How cold the bottom seems and distant
Like memories
Of so many summers gone
And all of the children
That have passed on to be parents
Watching children
Treading water
I wish I could feel the safety you insist
And the fact that the mortal coil
Only persists
As long as I’m breathing
And as long as the water evades my lungs
Welcome it in and I sink to the bottom
I trusted you
You never failed me
I’ve failed you
And the shadow on the bottom that stared back in fear
Was only the remnants and entanglements

The love and beauty of a fleeting year….
Articles on travel

The Hole – The Hallows

Child of Ten - The Hole
Child of Ten – The Hole

The Hole  -From the Hallows

Perched on the edge of that hole
The wet soil of cold November
Frost on the ground
The plywood planks never saved me
The distance falling
Never covered the hole
The heart
Still beating young and naïve
The sprout in winter
Wake to the winter ice
That hole
Buried deep inside me
And keeps me
Awake at night
The gaping wound
The earth and all its hollow glory
Never saying once
It was sorry
Only the edge of the soil
Is discernable the ground will never settle
Never heal
You lay in silence in the empty shadows
Your not there
I know that now
And you never were
Around us
All around us
And the evil silent hole
Would never keep you
Only me
In its violent graces
Keeps me crafting words out of a shadow
Keeps me searching for something precious

I lost in the hallows…..

Artbygordon: Original oils on canvas, Original pastels on paper celebrating the beauty and mystery of nature. Water and night skies are my specialties.