tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69156338721073797362024-03-13T00:52:10.590-04:00Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.comBlogger521125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-52848415210218969462011-11-28T10:38:00.000-05:002011-11-28T10:38:28.692-05:00Madonna and Child in a Two Hour Parking Zone<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em><span style="color: blue;">"The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web."</span></em> <o:p></o:p></span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Pablo Picasso</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Street painting was first recorded in Italy in the 16th Century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Created by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>" madonnari," (so named because<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>icons of the Madonna<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were a common<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>subject of their work)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>itinerant artists,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>many who had been brought to the cities to work on the cathedrals<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and later needed to find another way to make a living when<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the work for the church was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The madonnari's materials were tiles, coal and chalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their canvas was the pavement<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in front of the cathedral. The madonnari's goal was to inspire pilgrims to throw a few coins their way .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The art form spread throughout Europe--In England such artists are called screevers and in Germany strassenmaler.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Recently<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fredericksburg hosted its second annual Via Colori Festival<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which brings together<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>artists, aspiring artists, a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dabbler in the arts or two,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and a few<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>souls searching for that artistic spark within themselves, to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>put chalk to pavement<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as did the madonnari of old......without the whole livelihood stress thing.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For me this event is not so much about the art but rather the process that creates it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One can marvel at the technique, the beauty, and confidence of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>years of experience and talent .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>appreciate the struggle to create.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to see<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>potential<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and recognize the desire<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in someone's first efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My interest in this event is not to see what is created but rather how it is created. ....</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBQ3iYwKt6TkOgOzVsse4m-A5jxGQ4Xz3XLwaPztIirjV5L-XQvnLKWoIBDyC42jYuKAtRRa0hdcgB7UGcJAy6nCJ4lblnrrVBfmYhCdSqj3GxK3FYdbM0KGkxe3mLR_HqB4CyZ_dvA/s1600/176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBQ3iYwKt6TkOgOzVsse4m-A5jxGQ4Xz3XLwaPztIirjV5L-XQvnLKWoIBDyC42jYuKAtRRa0hdcgB7UGcJAy6nCJ4lblnrrVBfmYhCdSqj3GxK3FYdbM0KGkxe3mLR_HqB4CyZ_dvA/s320/176.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><strong>Street Art of A New Century</strong></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">A 16th century modannari would probably not understand the street art of today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the most part<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>religious themes no longer predominate. The role of art in his time, which was used to inspire, teach, and tell stories (and yes make a few coins on the side), has also changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What he would recognize is the desire to create.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiXeVsLbeONwq6Wjtpz6sW7ga_VMgoOLIT-1nvbGzB3YTzfCuHlachZkZLpgockXn_q97owGBEVUU1a1IiQiNttiW9dPxqdQPBDcfvdKQvlj9QLV93SI9INsXZW_vfZR9p-vyvYpecA/s1600/164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiXeVsLbeONwq6Wjtpz6sW7ga_VMgoOLIT-1nvbGzB3YTzfCuHlachZkZLpgockXn_q97owGBEVUU1a1IiQiNttiW9dPxqdQPBDcfvdKQvlj9QLV93SI9INsXZW_vfZR9p-vyvYpecA/s320/164.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><strong>So It Begins.......................<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>From such mundane things as a tape measure, cardboard, chalk, tape, paper towels, a paint can (?), and what I suspect to be a bag of munchies, the creative process begins. Don't know how the whole barefoot thing plays into this process but then I am not an artist.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj067Aftv68jO4K422WVwpYt8R4KVSe7ran9bLJChiaEyWeqM441kxyeQkfI__eihkb6FaJ2ZF-T5wF13oAZUP6th8FuUCXrFLt3BRYoVkcFJwRCZ1ugJVtqV5Iez_GPnKZcg6gPjiXDw/s1600/163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj067Aftv68jO4K422WVwpYt8R4KVSe7ran9bLJChiaEyWeqM441kxyeQkfI__eihkb6FaJ2ZF-T5wF13oAZUP6th8FuUCXrFLt3BRYoVkcFJwRCZ1ugJVtqV5Iez_GPnKZcg6gPjiXDw/s320/163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><strong>Art Immitating Nature......With A Little Help From Nature<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><em><span style="color: blue;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Art not only imitates nature, but also completes its deficiencies."<o:p></o:p></span></em></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><strong>Aristotle<o:p></o:p></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>I must take issue with the esteemed Aristotle on this one. There is no question that the vibrant colors of this piece capture and enhance the spirit of the fall season which we now find ourselves here in Virginia. However, I would say that Mother Nature's small contribution to the bottom left corner of the piece adds immeasurably to the overall effect.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_hw-NuQbVb982Lm2qrg9TQtfqJGzgwipILwZtYuedBymq8Wel9RTnrdMkdoyj_GRaqROeoAOUGLvBbcxebl9F2ChIknLcc6MRQR2FY8fJrLQn_YR85aNTuKauJYpuD7mDcuMiqhyphenhyphenng/s1600/181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_hw-NuQbVb982Lm2qrg9TQtfqJGzgwipILwZtYuedBymq8Wel9RTnrdMkdoyj_GRaqROeoAOUGLvBbcxebl9F2ChIknLcc6MRQR2FY8fJrLQn_YR85aNTuKauJYpuD7mDcuMiqhyphenhyphenng/s320/181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><strong>Experience Art--Up Close and Personal<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><em><span style="color: blue;">"Every artist was first an amateur."</span></em> <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><strong>Ralph Waldo Emerson<o:p></o:p></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Well you have got to start somewhere so why not by rolling in it and getting a better feel of the piece. My guess is we are not looking at a budding artist but rather a budding art critic. Or it could be just as simple as an attention getter which at this age is the most probable.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-h4LKVB8jzqYdTzGwqIHerF5pVK8WX8BDYH7W7HGeJjxgLB8fhS-wpwv5FPs9dnEhZ_oMP0OnRrr9MeDcUaAbOi1jR5T9TJdTTIZP3jnFA78GEPpVa3GXRHTgbEEbBsnK9tflG9n7JA/s1600/161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-h4LKVB8jzqYdTzGwqIHerF5pVK8WX8BDYH7W7HGeJjxgLB8fhS-wpwv5FPs9dnEhZ_oMP0OnRrr9MeDcUaAbOi1jR5T9TJdTTIZP3jnFA78GEPpVa3GXRHTgbEEbBsnK9tflG9n7JA/s320/161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong>Creation...........<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><em><span style="color: blue;">"In wisdom you made them all, the earth is full of your creatures. There is the sea, vast and spacious, teeming with creatures beyond number - living things both large and small... When you send your Spirit, they are created and you renew the earth."<o:p></o:p></span></em></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><strong>Psalms 104:25,30<o:p></o:p></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Art allows us the opportunity to free ourselves from the bondage of reality and allow us to imagine the unimaginable. We can see ourselves as creators if only on canvas, marble, bronze......or asphalt.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidXYL3TiFXuvrwW0gFkZNVIKo-fvYwelepfKG1K8INOdD12K_S6mPehr4KdguRTyaCEu_yZHe7o0PWfPfckgEbuDubPxVVunBSB7VqFgMfigGH9VL1Ywgmr355kRqlPNtjZKVzgAXtQ/s1600/177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidXYL3TiFXuvrwW0gFkZNVIKo-fvYwelepfKG1K8INOdD12K_S6mPehr4KdguRTyaCEu_yZHe7o0PWfPfckgEbuDubPxVVunBSB7VqFgMfigGH9VL1Ywgmr355kRqlPNtjZKVzgAXtQ/s320/177.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong>A Moment in the Creative Process<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>It looks as if the artist is sitting on the ottoman sharing a moment with her creation. What is she thinking about--color, shading? Or is her mind at a different time and place?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrVVOGZqngUDOlcMjVPUhyeA1kyo203oHMeFXUNNHx_r8CTWRqV0OuHEe_f-fIA-bbnrW0a-pg-BX1u0aBVCCNPVHxLfH0AhuTlZMXl4FYTnYwBAnBr9BwsEUcft0xH0NylCTwTzoOg/s1600/158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrVVOGZqngUDOlcMjVPUhyeA1kyo203oHMeFXUNNHx_r8CTWRqV0OuHEe_f-fIA-bbnrW0a-pg-BX1u0aBVCCNPVHxLfH0AhuTlZMXl4FYTnYwBAnBr9BwsEUcft0xH0NylCTwTzoOg/s320/158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><strong>All Journeys Begin With a Step<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><em><span style="color: blue;">"If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced."<o:p></o:p></span></em></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><strong>Vincent Van Gogh<o:p></o:p></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>There are those that are inspired by the efforts of others to create and say to themselves,--"I too can create." Many would see this as nothing more that some childish scribbles. What it actually may be is the beginning of a journey and we were blessed to be present to witness the first step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PHaUJ8dID_dqI1Wfph3M59lAn1ts1ZGtZOZd1WoPhv_I2bqJG0AdETAm6PQv9BIiI-b-BDQnHAdJVwev35K646I1UiUw8OidtW2Zz8x8GlVjkNMkd4X0oeMsXggFTfRrsRJ01PP9kQ/s1600/113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PHaUJ8dID_dqI1Wfph3M59lAn1ts1ZGtZOZd1WoPhv_I2bqJG0AdETAm6PQv9BIiI-b-BDQnHAdJVwev35K646I1UiUw8OidtW2Zz8x8GlVjkNMkd4X0oeMsXggFTfRrsRJ01PP9kQ/s320/113.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong>The End of the Journey?<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>From the first random scribbles to inspiring beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To create such a picture from chalk on a cracked piece of asphalt is a marvel to behold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But is it fair to say that anyone reaches a point where they can no longer<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>learn, or dream something new, or create even greater beauty?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQkFLnawu3QJE54CfpyDIA_A6CFsXHUvQN3tmz4nme-ebdfmoiukHMaMuKblRwJY1XuzryQQrL8Zbcgk8bqDYljupYrYfQn0dR6Vu4HeIMCR5Mxb5Eehspu4eHy6cVvvYksgOZTNQZw/s1600/153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQkFLnawu3QJE54CfpyDIA_A6CFsXHUvQN3tmz4nme-ebdfmoiukHMaMuKblRwJY1XuzryQQrL8Zbcgk8bqDYljupYrYfQn0dR6Vu4HeIMCR5Mxb5Eehspu4eHy6cVvvYksgOZTNQZw/s320/153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p><strong>The Transforming Power of Art<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Take a little imagination, vibrant colors, and a little patience and you can take what most people would consider a rather mundane street scene and turn it into a work of art. When looking at this I also wonder about the story behind the picture. What was the inspiration, or maybe memory, that created this scene?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another plus in my book.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnH2GAcL_EgkW5PmJic4NHQnqeRHpZSs9LJFSp5jBqg3MFDN0imkxnN4xBpc-HJC4hvluSNTDaJbDwczBXeklg41p-_STSGtdpsfXvZYbCtMQy0aihue2nviGCzKtJ6gcb8yGvkAbJA/s1600/171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnH2GAcL_EgkW5PmJic4NHQnqeRHpZSs9LJFSp5jBqg3MFDN0imkxnN4xBpc-HJC4hvluSNTDaJbDwczBXeklg41p-_STSGtdpsfXvZYbCtMQy0aihue2nviGCzKtJ6gcb8yGvkAbJA/s320/171.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><o:p>W<strong>e End At The Beginning.............<o:p></o:p></strong></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Like the madonnari of old--Madonna and Child. I actually took a class in Iconography in college. If I am not mistaken (and I'm not because I checked) this is a rendition of the Black Madonna of Czestochowa. It is said that it was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist. While painting the picture, Mary was to have told him about the life of Jesus and he later incorporated it into his gospel.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></div></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-8378047572070816872011-11-05T21:17:00.004-04:002011-11-05T21:21:54.791-04:00Madonna and Child in a Two Hour Parking Zone<span class="body1"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: blue;"><em>"The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web."</em></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<strong>Pablo Picasso</strong></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Street painting was first recorded in Italy in the 16th Century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Created by <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>" madonnari," (so named because<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>icons of the Madonna <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>were a common<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>subject of their work) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>itinerant artists,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>many who had been brought to the cities to work on the cathedrals<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and later needed to find another way to make a living when<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the work for the church was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The madonnari's materials were tiles, coal and chalk. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their canvas was the pavement <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in front of the cathedral. The madonnari's goal was to inspire pilgrims to throw a few coins their way .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The art form spread throughout Europe--In England such artists are called <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">screevers</span> and in Germany <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">strassenmaler.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Recently<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fredericksburg hosted its second annual Via Colori Festival <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which brings together <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>artists, aspiring artists, a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dabbler in the arts or two, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and a few <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>souls searching for that artistic spark within themselves, to <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>put chalk to pavement <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as did the madonnari of old......without the whole livelihood stress thing.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">For me this event is not so much about the art but rather the process that creates it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One can marvel at the technique, the beauty, and confidence of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>years of experience and talent . <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>appreciate the struggle to create.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And to see<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>potential<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and recognize the desire<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in someone's first efforts. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My interest in this event is not to see what is created but rather how it is created. ....</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUzwv1Im82VYMUbzS1vtHKYGMKO_EHCy9Gp_XnNXkfMyHvBMdzrxEQ0PeAHBRNnk2eALJ_cmltlcFyYCtfiSv-vnw9F1aTNcIyWBxU3JA027uUDmUTgjISLrG7fy1qV2z1KpJ9V-Qq1w/s1600/176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUzwv1Im82VYMUbzS1vtHKYGMKO_EHCy9Gp_XnNXkfMyHvBMdzrxEQ0PeAHBRNnk2eALJ_cmltlcFyYCtfiSv-vnw9F1aTNcIyWBxU3JA027uUDmUTgjISLrG7fy1qV2z1KpJ9V-Qq1w/s320/176.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Street Art of A New Century<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A 16th century modannari would probably not understand the street art of today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the most part <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>religious themes no longer predominate. The role of art in his time, which was used to inspire, teach, and tell stories (and yes make a few coins on the side), has also changed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What he would recognize is the desire to create. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></strong>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-31157673914909096562011-11-05T20:15:00.004-04:002011-11-05T20:18:07.586-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCfGdKoiNNXqMhthHwK_4oc2uXhFd0HvPmsEVRN2Oa_Vja0M78PO9DhLCXr96goz05RphyphenhyphenZQF35j5dOTvZ2DkU5GUTL45ff_PAPlyupHZcqPulr9H09bUkHAgtpdDUIzsn1OKu2nBfg/s1600/164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCfGdKoiNNXqMhthHwK_4oc2uXhFd0HvPmsEVRN2Oa_Vja0M78PO9DhLCXr96goz05RphyphenhyphenZQF35j5dOTvZ2DkU5GUTL45ff_PAPlyupHZcqPulr9H09bUkHAgtpdDUIzsn1OKu2nBfg/s320/164.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>So It Begins.......................</strong><br />
<br />
From such mundane things as a tape measure, cardboard, chalk, tape, paper towels, a paint can (?), and what I suspect to be a bag of munchies, the creative process begins. Don't know how the whole barefoot thing plays into this process but then I am not an artist.MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-12971960399473631672011-11-05T19:57:00.005-04:002011-11-05T20:01:42.360-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nz-gW381I8sRSRwK1rHOQoVz0dFFfwIq7p84zr5QXPawWkbmXoThxUmwGMGyMySzZKE4Glg85InjRfFfkrdI9lwq4ZaQJbIkLWkyoGKhSKkjqYBSbfEdn0fxcSRsZ-TWe1mj_64rgg/s1600/163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nz-gW381I8sRSRwK1rHOQoVz0dFFfwIq7p84zr5QXPawWkbmXoThxUmwGMGyMySzZKE4Glg85InjRfFfkrdI9lwq4ZaQJbIkLWkyoGKhSKkjqYBSbfEdn0fxcSRsZ-TWe1mj_64rgg/s320/163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>Art Immitating Nature......With A Little Help From Nature</strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><em><span style="color: blue;">"Art not only imitates nature, but also completes its deficiencies."</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="color: black;"><strong>Aristotle</strong></span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must take issue with the esteemed Aristotle on this one. There is no question that the vibrant colors of this piece capture and enhance the spirit of the fall season which we now find ourselves here in Virginia. However, I would say that Mother Nature's small contribution to the bottom left corner of the piece adds immeasurably to the overall effect.</span></o:p></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-55877227575944715122011-11-05T19:25:00.001-04:002011-11-05T19:26:22.530-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsTsGLEouZ7mGmaziawNw3I4Z_lGkT5bCYGMt7cLsuM1KmGDsi2F2PGfJ6dfVu_GzsG0srKIQqj5ejdmcMT0EQeAC8lU9yaerkGK8Zq046CPPPsRdsABO5QKnetig5C5p_gHp5sGeWg/s1600/181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsTsGLEouZ7mGmaziawNw3I4Z_lGkT5bCYGMt7cLsuM1KmGDsi2F2PGfJ6dfVu_GzsG0srKIQqj5ejdmcMT0EQeAC8lU9yaerkGK8Zq046CPPPsRdsABO5QKnetig5C5p_gHp5sGeWg/s320/181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>Experience Art--Up Close and Personal</strong><br />
<br />
<em><span style="color: blue;"> <span class="body1"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Every artist was first an amateur."</span></span></span></em><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<span class="bodybold1"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><strong>Ralph Waldo Emerson</strong></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="bodybold1"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Well you have got to start somewhere so why not by rolling in it and getting a better feel of the piece. My guess is we are not looking at a budding artist but rather a budding art critic. Or it could be </span></span><span class="bodybold1"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">just as simple as an attention getter which at this age is the most probable. </span></span></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-30728624870574197862011-11-05T18:28:00.002-04:002011-11-05T18:32:41.279-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzvsis0lJNrpZmfK588zwJUfxoiQquc8cqwBbX06BFCkakBhAGfLCEIRNNozUs6BO21qFY-2NSmBoDFLoO-p5ds1WCokWrB1pWAnLyZbGzM7QJNjMwKwVdLsTbN1wRcOh55hMqO-pXw/s1600/161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigzvsis0lJNrpZmfK588zwJUfxoiQquc8cqwBbX06BFCkakBhAGfLCEIRNNozUs6BO21qFY-2NSmBoDFLoO-p5ds1WCokWrB1pWAnLyZbGzM7QJNjMwKwVdLsTbN1wRcOh55hMqO-pXw/s320/161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>Creation...........</strong><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><em><span style="color: blue;">"In wisdom you made them all, the earth is full of your creatures. There is the sea, vast and spacious, teeming with creatures beyond number - living things both large and small... When you send your Spirit, they are created and you renew the earth."<o:p></o:p></span></em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><strong>Psalms 104:25,30</strong></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Art allows us the opportunity to free ourselves from the bondage of reality and allow us to imagine the unimaginable. We can see ourselves as creators if only on canvas, marble, bronze......or asphalt.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-69457972676088733882011-11-05T17:59:00.000-04:002011-11-05T17:59:49.083-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9fTM__Y0yTQWkg_Rvbl7d6jFAQAcvxnR7gi6QpKnuVpRl54IVK3H5qOvTGGqNGHVerPhuzkz0r1XoaaQLSHYHcc_mypT56cOx1fksaiBZeydZQSdtPpl45CsHABuQIwjU9J6sWM8wNQ/s1600/177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9fTM__Y0yTQWkg_Rvbl7d6jFAQAcvxnR7gi6QpKnuVpRl54IVK3H5qOvTGGqNGHVerPhuzkz0r1XoaaQLSHYHcc_mypT56cOx1fksaiBZeydZQSdtPpl45CsHABuQIwjU9J6sWM8wNQ/s320/177.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>A Moment in the Creative Process</strong><br />
It looks as if the artist is sitting on the ottoman sharing a moment with her creation. What is she thinking about--color, shading? Or is her mind at a different time and place?MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-44148629317205897102011-11-05T17:42:00.002-04:002011-11-05T17:45:19.509-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzjZRb3xCy8Wx7xE31csw62nX_1GbaKIuObLFDF-awdijha95cqaNF9cVEVT0K5b95Aw0o0zaFqHh61YiYhObjbDs4Zm7Cvb72nRJZPkR_bl2LWD9DBFgjBfKl8SzOgtPEKRjr2gHRw/s1600/158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzjZRb3xCy8Wx7xE31csw62nX_1GbaKIuObLFDF-awdijha95cqaNF9cVEVT0K5b95Aw0o0zaFqHh61YiYhObjbDs4Zm7Cvb72nRJZPkR_bl2LWD9DBFgjBfKl8SzOgtPEKRjr2gHRw/s320/158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>All Journeys Begin With a Step</strong><br />
<br />
<em><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><u1:p>"If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced."</u1:p></span></em><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br />
<u1:p><span style="font-size: small;"><strong>Vincent Van Gogh</strong><br />
<br />
</span></u1:p></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><u1:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">There are those that are inspired by the efforts of others to create and say to themselves,--"I too can create." Many would see this as nothing more that some childish scribbles. What it actually may be is the beginning of a journey and we were blessed to be present to witness the first step.</span></u1:p></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> <u1:p></u1:p></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-6908797174500370862011-11-05T17:39:00.001-04:002011-11-05T17:40:17.303-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgADuAb6TfwbB-lQvMuEeTr0GTPiCiycVT5oMNw2TRzJfNyjXUw0y2trpjE43FzLY-T7IIebo4ZQCCfcapucto3zKUo69fO3eW2FEhm8jyVF1YBhyphenhyphenV4q9zFVpc78dOJLreupLgyLdF2pw/s1600/113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgADuAb6TfwbB-lQvMuEeTr0GTPiCiycVT5oMNw2TRzJfNyjXUw0y2trpjE43FzLY-T7IIebo4ZQCCfcapucto3zKUo69fO3eW2FEhm8jyVF1YBhyphenhyphenV4q9zFVpc78dOJLreupLgyLdF2pw/s320/113.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><strong>The End of the Journey?</strong><br />
From the first random scribbles to inspiring beauty. To create such a picture from chalk on a cracked piece of asphalt is a marvel to behold. But is it fair to say that anyone reaches a point where they can no longer learn, or dream something new, or create even greater beauty?MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-68519688162226743602011-11-05T17:11:00.001-04:002011-11-05T17:12:00.806-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8jBX7bVlTtBKdx5LVqWSIcoOGCM_iP_RAM8YM0jPJndYm-QaLqdvxZPlXo1KKbRzwpumA9BVbcZhjBbNnbUV4aJoKBl9K8SaJzg9bbm05gQ-Kh2KrbX64RwgjXDGu9gn81eXc9JOog/s1600/153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8jBX7bVlTtBKdx5LVqWSIcoOGCM_iP_RAM8YM0jPJndYm-QaLqdvxZPlXo1KKbRzwpumA9BVbcZhjBbNnbUV4aJoKBl9K8SaJzg9bbm05gQ-Kh2KrbX64RwgjXDGu9gn81eXc9JOog/s320/153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>The Transforming Power of Art</strong><br />
Take a little imagination, vibrant colors, and a little patience and you can take what most people would consider a rather mundane street scene and turn it into a work of art. When looking at this I also wonder about the story behind the picture. What was the inspiration, or maybe memory, that created this scene?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another plus in my book.MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-315633902762916242011-11-05T16:55:00.001-04:002011-11-05T17:44:00.750-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhek0mIZvid1Q_ayMG87Nji0mHtPelDJrAXdU5GVop4vIwkWE3z8guylECzfkDYxQJg4eSI8Tdy23xARom3VEgFYCFqaF6PRpTEMoY5Kdjmp9C_kWEVttwaHtEcNiJGpr7dd1PiGXr8nw/s1600/171_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhek0mIZvid1Q_ayMG87Nji0mHtPelDJrAXdU5GVop4vIwkWE3z8guylECzfkDYxQJg4eSI8Tdy23xARom3VEgFYCFqaF6PRpTEMoY5Kdjmp9C_kWEVttwaHtEcNiJGpr7dd1PiGXr8nw/s320/171_edited-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><strong>We End At The Beginning.............</strong><br />
Like the madonnari of old--Madonna and Child. I actually took a class in Iconography in college. If I am not mistaken (and I'm not because I checked) this is a rendition of <span class="googqs-tidbit1"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">the Black Madonna of Czestochowa. It is said that it was painted by St. Luke the Evangelist. While painting the picture, Mary was to have told him about the life of Jesus and he</span></span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"> later incorporated it into his gospel.</span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-81311968142843196112011-09-18T23:16:00.000-04:002011-09-18T23:16:23.427-04:00Ruminations From the Road Less Traveled<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><em><span style="background-color: white; color: blue;">The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.</span></em> <o:p></o:p></span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><strong>Henry Miller</strong></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While composition, lighting, and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>color can draw one's attention to a photograph; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it is the story inside the photograph that holds it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We enjoy photographs of a beautiful <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sunrise, the colors of a fall day, the majesty of a mountain range; but <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with nothing else to hold our interest we move on. But if the photo makes us think-- make us stop to glimpse back down the road we have traveled, present <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>new perspective,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>remind us <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of our humanity --then it truly becomes memorable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So let us<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>take a few moments to look past the picture and see the story, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a different <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>perspective, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>maybe a bit of humor, as we continue down the road less traveled..............................<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1mazg-kpt43Ws8AspOGpX6aRbcZsRIl405bS3IrVjTeMD6CxejpYiJAWDOp0fEu417aooFpaY95GysPnM6-w-ZWDsN0GufZey-U1W8hu1AARxKrwz851V5jAX-CWSxqBW8qEcsM-cFQ/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1mazg-kpt43Ws8AspOGpX6aRbcZsRIl405bS3IrVjTeMD6CxejpYiJAWDOp0fEu417aooFpaY95GysPnM6-w-ZWDsN0GufZey-U1W8hu1AARxKrwz851V5jAX-CWSxqBW8qEcsM-cFQ/s320/049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>Our Forgotten Past</strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">King George, VA--Overgrown, unseen and forgotten. For most this is how we see our past. Yet there are stories here of a time and of the people who lived in it. Stories of their trials and triumphs; their mistakes and the lessons learned. Unfortunately, most believe that we have evolved beyond anything the past can teach us. What they fail to realize is that while technology, knowledge, and our quality of life has greatly improved our human frailties remain the same.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-57762673956285202842011-09-18T22:20:00.000-04:002011-09-18T22:20:27.545-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXV0I-AHolnpiYT869Cn19pM5RnhO7rYC0xwdedrdh-2SRAaUE8jCha2erGd9rRZrkmcP5-00HehJal4_snT5TaJQ2FLSxysl6w05CxgR1CfsJL5ipboru_rxmj_Vj2q5UEL9-gYkjLQ/s1600/035_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXV0I-AHolnpiYT869Cn19pM5RnhO7rYC0xwdedrdh-2SRAaUE8jCha2erGd9rRZrkmcP5-00HehJal4_snT5TaJQ2FLSxysl6w05CxgR1CfsJL5ipboru_rxmj_Vj2q5UEL9-gYkjLQ/s320/035_edited-1.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><strong>There is Always an Exception to the Rule</strong><br />
OK, not a lot of hidden meaning here. Heavily photo shopped--cropped, colored, contrasted, highlighted, sharpened, and dry brushed. Just liked the shot so sue me.........But wait.... now that I think (see above) about it I see that I have created art from art (note sign in window) from a mundane reality. Boy that is deep and full of...................MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-76459563044620257532011-09-18T22:06:00.002-04:002011-09-19T11:34:15.160-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9D62rCJZ5HYyFRez6Yh90ZtmnyZDNveWb7kyok-Pg2wsU43SGO6HkC6cy-CvXPoz2FNeuk-jo5xxpZiSzngvBs57pcaKpKjh0h70EMUOfUoVFZ1Kmipk4BWc797i7dY9nsEKYgF9-Q/s1600/152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9D62rCJZ5HYyFRez6Yh90ZtmnyZDNveWb7kyok-Pg2wsU43SGO6HkC6cy-CvXPoz2FNeuk-jo5xxpZiSzngvBs57pcaKpKjh0h70EMUOfUoVFZ1Kmipk4BWc797i7dY9nsEKYgF9-Q/s320/152.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><strong>"Street Numbers? Street Numbers? We Don't Need No Stikin Street Numbers....."</strong><br />
Coles Point, VA-- Who needs numbers when a name on a sign tacked to a tree will do. As folksy and quaint as this may look it doesn't help your insurance adjuster (that be me) who has to drive around for about half an hour trying to locate you and not being able to reach you by phone for directions because you're outside enjoying the breeze coming off the river.MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-55414568875996004452011-09-18T21:47:00.001-04:002011-09-19T11:33:06.300-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2_TLj2IkweaHk03UU1ZmTaMYEOt7sLAjkCYFbKMjHyQ5roB7AyoyxEbebjiV7pf3AYqCImpqvRz6FvnVT-_6XMRDJK6V-xZtvhztTFCgZGxe7xmBJ1dl388ewuehiIvl4BppzX0rkA/s1600/078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2_TLj2IkweaHk03UU1ZmTaMYEOt7sLAjkCYFbKMjHyQ5roB7AyoyxEbebjiV7pf3AYqCImpqvRz6FvnVT-_6XMRDJK6V-xZtvhztTFCgZGxe7xmBJ1dl388ewuehiIvl4BppzX0rkA/s320/078.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong> Epicenter--Puts Mineral on the Map</strong><br />
Mineral, VA--Being at the epicenter of an earthquake felt from Florida to Canada is one way to get noticed. On August 23rd at 1:51:04pm a 5.8 magnitude earthquake gave Mineral it's, "15 minutes of fame." Visiting the area a fews days later it looked like the town's new found fame had not gone to anyones' head.<br />
<br />
Downtown Mineral. All the brinck buildings to the right sustained some damage requiring a lane closure. You can see workers on the white building to the right foreground.........<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Xi4UVCegsjD3cry4piSaYWW8JufuZ_4hKe5PYC1ipGspBs61iYk-O0OTqVZb1rgLdlM-dX1sMxS3aIDf3uqTXKL-kUa58oXRw4lLRrKCzKqVVg9oAFLwTBW4ouamrOYx9k6fi1NC4Q/s1600/162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Xi4UVCegsjD3cry4piSaYWW8JufuZ_4hKe5PYC1ipGspBs61iYk-O0OTqVZb1rgLdlM-dX1sMxS3aIDf3uqTXKL-kUa58oXRw4lLRrKCzKqVVg9oAFLwTBW4ouamrOYx9k6fi1NC4Q/s320/162.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
A bad day for chimney's. Here Mother Nature scored a Hat Trick taking out three chimney's on the same house.........<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AyxIKy5oFQd3F1MePiuO8shRDXk0W1RFOfK0B934vT00q-6zr0x8XEB37cRi1l07CYp5u1r8HlqLF_E3nLMrCINfQ30VjUsa225gVKyx9dr2s45YLYGoZByawyhGBIlrtK0OOwMvlA/s1600/076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AyxIKy5oFQd3F1MePiuO8shRDXk0W1RFOfK0B934vT00q-6zr0x8XEB37cRi1l07CYp5u1r8HlqLF_E3nLMrCINfQ30VjUsa225gVKyx9dr2s45YLYGoZByawyhGBIlrtK0OOwMvlA/s320/076.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
The top of the brick facade of this downtown building came down and other sections pulled away. This business will be closed for a while but..........................<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_-gWOpvKF_XY-DOBNqYdpJzPxK2JKVewnS-5KOltoMeS3B2HBmo1yXh_lEX1vvB7AZZ-Cs11V8sOI3a48iR_9eRPTA2aPL8lbAGVnUclb3L-XrjbsUOKrm3jC6e6CXLaxL_2Ls6nOA/s1600/080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_-gWOpvKF_XY-DOBNqYdpJzPxK2JKVewnS-5KOltoMeS3B2HBmo1yXh_lEX1vvB7AZZ-Cs11V8sOI3a48iR_9eRPTA2aPL8lbAGVnUclb3L-XrjbsUOKrm3jC6e6CXLaxL_2Ls6nOA/s320/080.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
.....adversity can and is overcome. The sign on the supports holding up the front wall of Main Street Plumbing announces, "Open for Business."MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-71837358462970339832011-09-18T21:18:00.000-04:002011-09-18T21:18:37.580-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaqHNn6gbISKSdkTTG5WXKflGaUQ4Utfswb7t7h7uK8Z6-G2saAmOgCVtfzTT2aGHQp-mwLPylhq3bLyYoce3eaxF3Co7Eh4hKwUrXp2K7-zXHbYiZsVF-smY9WWAYleUx5OmAnOWWw/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaqHNn6gbISKSdkTTG5WXKflGaUQ4Utfswb7t7h7uK8Z6-G2saAmOgCVtfzTT2aGHQp-mwLPylhq3bLyYoce3eaxF3Co7Eh4hKwUrXp2K7-zXHbYiZsVF-smY9WWAYleUx5OmAnOWWw/s320/032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>Yes We Can Learn from the Past..............</strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rt. 20, Orange, VA--Russia, 1787, Grigory Potemkin, one of Catherine the Great's ministers, is alleged to have build fake villages along the Dnieper River to impress the Empress with the value of the newly conquered lands. Taking a lesson from this endeavor of the past the town of Orange has constructed their own, "Potemkin Village" (and I must say it has the village look) to mask and old junk yard on the way into town. The question to be asked is when the site is developed in the future will it look as nice as it does now?</span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-69939651423394970262011-09-18T20:56:00.001-04:002011-09-18T20:59:03.275-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_QN7BDLxZuiQhyphenhyphenKD2pCHAQTaZ8gUtd36Ic5BrlG0XSqj7FtpyjJ01ezFU6unuR-Jj-TDR7fe8nkHl-RpnAtV0EB0FsaguP9NNXI_EYWw9JMV7wGaGTlHJI-jOV-d5zCDob0AanCTbA/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_QN7BDLxZuiQhyphenhyphenKD2pCHAQTaZ8gUtd36Ic5BrlG0XSqj7FtpyjJ01ezFU6unuR-Jj-TDR7fe8nkHl-RpnAtV0EB0FsaguP9NNXI_EYWw9JMV7wGaGTlHJI-jOV-d5zCDob0AanCTbA/s320/019.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><strong>You Know When Your Really in the Country When.........</strong><br />
Lost in Louisa County--Dogs in the country are more than just pets they are members of the family. A show of hands please....How many think a dog house built like the family mansion with a TV antena is going a bit too far? Then again it could be a very small "man cave." Gives a whole new meaning to being in the doghouse. Have to say the pig weather vane on the water faucet is a nice touch.MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-55251034110949147002011-09-18T20:48:00.000-04:002011-09-18T20:48:19.137-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqbRAKdlhTCfp5y5BmR_odlg4rXy3-UbX6eu1FHVgwWHmq-lSqO2ye_0CDUzLoyBEFhh7da6LW-fbhtctZ44haXBKlhTtatftQ962LIZ2Zg1QxV861GkurgDJwnTI9gWhqChvmqzF-g/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqbRAKdlhTCfp5y5BmR_odlg4rXy3-UbX6eu1FHVgwWHmq-lSqO2ye_0CDUzLoyBEFhh7da6LW-fbhtctZ44haXBKlhTtatftQ962LIZ2Zg1QxV861GkurgDJwnTI9gWhqChvmqzF-g/s320/023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>A Perplexing Question?</strong><br />
Westmoreland County--So old cars and or trucks sitting in the front yard, some on blocks, is considered a good indicator that there are rednecks about. So what does a bunch of old tractors in the front yard, with one on blocks, mean? I went on three search sites with: old tractors + front yard + on blocks + meaning, and got nowhere. Not even a Wikipedia entry! Could this be the question that stumps the internet?MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-62157494121025517332011-09-18T20:34:00.000-04:002011-09-18T20:34:23.046-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1A7WG92tXj-8Gxtiw7kGO6G666rM-DZK42SrjM6ExubSQUePT_LyYEPsD3LvErpNrr94gcYqQeRJMAnn1eePaxWrHxrlzNXZ9dIF_y98Z5zkMXNxqQ_QKGye1aMDkzX_90uhyphenhyphenGBYq5g/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1A7WG92tXj-8Gxtiw7kGO6G666rM-DZK42SrjM6ExubSQUePT_LyYEPsD3LvErpNrr94gcYqQeRJMAnn1eePaxWrHxrlzNXZ9dIF_y98Z5zkMXNxqQ_QKGye1aMDkzX_90uhyphenhyphenGBYq5g/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>A Different Perspective.............</strong><br />
Rt. 17, Caroline County--To most this is one of those idyllic country road scenes (Cue John Denver now). But let's take a closer look......at the deer crossing sign. Note the bullet damage.....While I had high apptitude scores in the areas of math and science during my scholastic career neither topic ever held much interest for me. Hard to work either topic into a conversation at a cocktail party. So I will defer to all those who embrace the sciences (and therefore are not very interesting to talk to at cocktail parties) and ask whether or not a deer is smart enough to take the hint that this may not be the best place to cross the road? MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-82537390763854156642011-09-18T20:18:00.001-04:002011-09-18T20:20:48.658-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYplviMQk9dDI9TkUJHojR7PSJ99N2B20UXMfCeDECb6JR_usahXCdxMl7eBIrt26WHDy4zB1UWPAzy96YiBEr12nzQv2pD8N91LVMelgk56TX7yeKE2lQlCbSQSU2TQll1FPnqLvZA/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYplviMQk9dDI9TkUJHojR7PSJ99N2B20UXMfCeDECb6JR_usahXCdxMl7eBIrt26WHDy4zB1UWPAzy96YiBEr12nzQv2pD8N91LVMelgk56TX7yeKE2lQlCbSQSU2TQll1FPnqLvZA/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><strong>The End of the Road--A Previous Tantrum by Mother Nature</strong><br />
Falmouth, VA--This is the end of the old Rt. 1. Beyond the trees is the Rappahannock River and at one time this road spanned the river. On the other side one would have seen fields in front of them as Rt. 1 went off to the left and continued through the heart of downtown Fredericksburg. Here is what the bridge looked like in its heyday in the 1930's.......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3jNC6Axeivu8f8HctL6uGkcz8PeYhn_ZWOWFkOr-QFh3bIXsw8Dp1-cOnazI_1-9d6iFj5k2inNhsMyxyDgBQvgx1dFHcL3HizRDJ7qkOVVQ5Jk7m8hRlpm4w00SudYRtHvSmxpEng/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3jNC6Axeivu8f8HctL6uGkcz8PeYhn_ZWOWFkOr-QFh3bIXsw8Dp1-cOnazI_1-9d6iFj5k2inNhsMyxyDgBQvgx1dFHcL3HizRDJ7qkOVVQ5Jk7m8hRlpm4w00SudYRtHvSmxpEng/s320/013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
.........Then on April 26, 1937 the Rappahannock, flowing 39.1 feet above its normal level, washed out a section of the bridge.........</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBbTV5G_LBBw-fUlt4IIfkBIGUdEpL3OTyDiLluO1nLVESiQf_mjH_5eUUcrKlCY4jekxUHlFCBJn7-NocWI0MN-g8sOfGnG0SY29gVQOVJgF6fnitu87Q1DOEMuFw9zuEfUBfIPkGg/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBbTV5G_LBBw-fUlt4IIfkBIGUdEpL3OTyDiLluO1nLVESiQf_mjH_5eUUcrKlCY4jekxUHlFCBJn7-NocWI0MN-g8sOfGnG0SY29gVQOVJgF6fnitu87Q1DOEMuFw9zuEfUBfIPkGg/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was repaired but because Rt. 1 was the only major north/south road on the east coast it was decided to build a stronger and higher bridge over the Rappahannock which was opened in 1943 and is still in use today. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
Thanks to former Mayor Bill Beck for allowing me access to his extensive Fredericksburg postcard collection.</div>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-66034154209676506222011-09-18T19:52:00.000-04:002011-09-18T19:52:45.035-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIBxOzScaUCo_vVdx6vCd1Pugc-gXZ3cAbV3-9G-gFJsZs7ehm2SDbdwiGlDo2IJ7dd7A7zRf1zoBZgomE2SrzKLkPYDLhNK6I0-tjb4IEg2mX9U8pJLubi-Em2aLP2YHlwiJpkI62mg/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIBxOzScaUCo_vVdx6vCd1Pugc-gXZ3cAbV3-9G-gFJsZs7ehm2SDbdwiGlDo2IJ7dd7A7zRf1zoBZgomE2SrzKLkPYDLhNK6I0-tjb4IEg2mX9U8pJLubi-Em2aLP2YHlwiJpkI62mg/s320/030.JPG" width="217" /></a></div><strong>Not Much of A Picture...........</strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We have all run across a picture like this one while going through family albums.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking at such an ordinary scene most would make a cursory effort to identify the individual then put it aside and search for the more interesting<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>scenes. For others looking at this photo they wonder why such a seemingly ordinary photo was taken? What is the story behind the picture?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Only a few moments before my<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>youngest, Joshua, shook my hand, gave his mother a final hug goodbye and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>turned to walk back to his new home on the campus of James Madison University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It marked the end of the beginning.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My role as a parent is coming to an end. At this moment<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the realization comes that my relationship with my son <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has forever changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will no longer scold or become angry with him. I can only be disappointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will no longer be happy for him. I will be proud of him. For he now controls his destiny and I am <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a bystander.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Offering support and advise when asked but the final decisions will rests with him.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And as my son walked away I also have to admit being a bit envious. I remembered a similar moment in my life. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The feeling of apprehension and exhilaration as one steps off to create a life of their own. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-48022754511543180272011-06-19T14:42:00.001-04:002011-06-19T22:07:45.150-04:00......listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.<span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;"><em>Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.</em></span> <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Winnie the Pooh</strong> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">WE shall take the sage advice of that great<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>philosopher of life Winnie the Pooh and not clutter or minds with thoughts of things to do, or try to place meaning on things, or endeavor to make a point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, with a little help from W.B Yeats we shall just enjoy the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some random shots of my recent travels...........</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eI7PUk5fxmEbSNQr0vs6j9ZZBQfD-U_PZy51HBxqFhYiu2VSAkt4BF3vSAo97DbjhQqyffWqeTYSSENmy6fghJjRk-Yc5c4FnFhyphenhyphenovUPy5v6bONyPFmigZ2J5kT4XfsMGpKjVbvldQ/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eI7PUk5fxmEbSNQr0vs6j9ZZBQfD-U_PZy51HBxqFhYiu2VSAkt4BF3vSAo97DbjhQqyffWqeTYSSENmy6fghJjRk-Yc5c4FnFhyphenhyphenovUPy5v6bONyPFmigZ2J5kT4XfsMGpKjVbvldQ/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I WENT out to the hazel wood, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Because a fire was in my head, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"></div>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-5924010647937692442011-06-19T14:35:00.002-04:002011-06-19T14:35:27.849-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtstfSdFz44YHLdkB-5R45FsTgdW-38KN68yY7ZiX9OJpz60pPfbpCmnGZrnfs0E6x1hP8zaIdlK6n7xFSsBF47swVbjTNSQBANB8htwGSUBk3DO7D5vPXAOmh6y9zbUPTv2OPmB47yg/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtstfSdFz44YHLdkB-5R45FsTgdW-38KN68yY7ZiX9OJpz60pPfbpCmnGZrnfs0E6x1hP8zaIdlK6n7xFSsBF47swVbjTNSQBANB8htwGSUBk3DO7D5vPXAOmh6y9zbUPTv2OPmB47yg/s320/022.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And cut and peeled a hazel wand, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And hooked a berry to a thread; <o:p></o:p></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-29101550622664166822011-06-19T14:30:00.000-04:002011-06-19T14:30:52.510-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqVV20pAJGfXhmnXq9tgLgqg7_g09dkbPNnMOhrd-N3RwRXm6-lWz_Bo2tAGl4XC7NqZfan2AB6GPW35Sn5Kx_OnqcEkyjKXtBBZH6u1aNimqbLNFYaY5yYUuLOMhb198Kye-y368Kw/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqVV20pAJGfXhmnXq9tgLgqg7_g09dkbPNnMOhrd-N3RwRXm6-lWz_Bo2tAGl4XC7NqZfan2AB6GPW35Sn5Kx_OnqcEkyjKXtBBZH6u1aNimqbLNFYaY5yYUuLOMhb198Kye-y368Kw/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And when white moths were on the wing, <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And moth-like stars were flickering out,<o:p></o:p></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6915633872107379736.post-52803926833332552682011-06-19T14:19:00.002-04:002011-06-19T14:19:24.266-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYodFKfZZF5wkZaPuUch_kS9A8tNtFpr3pKYCA_PUj1lgvik_Rk4f_m4xzAj_w2U0RlJGBvhoKRBlfBUcVSvuScKlKDbCcDGzAsLy7aqJiLRBAzLVlz4EQNpXvfURyFOMWUUgzJaDrcQ/s1600/019_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYodFKfZZF5wkZaPuUch_kS9A8tNtFpr3pKYCA_PUj1lgvik_Rk4f_m4xzAj_w2U0RlJGBvhoKRBlfBUcVSvuScKlKDbCcDGzAsLy7aqJiLRBAzLVlz4EQNpXvfURyFOMWUUgzJaDrcQ/s320/019_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I dropped the berry in a stream <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And caught a little silver trout.<o:p></o:p></span>MATT KELLYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14019646896033476098noreply@blogger.com0