Natural experiment.

A natural mood.

An attempt by me to do two things. Or, three.

It’s cold in the swamp today. It was cold and extremely windy last night. That’s what this art is about. You’ve got the bare tree. The kind you see in winter. You’ve got a monochromatic picture because yesterday everything was gray and muddy. Finally, the post production brings you to ice. It covers everything.

No.

We don’t have ice. It is a symbol for winter. The winter that many of you are digging through right now.

I’m trying to stay away from weather pictures. Unless you are very lucky and in the right place, at the right time, weather pictures start looking the same. I wasn’t even going to make pictures yesterday, but I felt the calling. Still, without a lot of help, they looked the same as pictures I made last year. They year before that and…

That’s where all the heavy post production came in.

When I do this sort of stuff, I work until I’ve gone too far, saving versions along the way. When my brain clicks in and I realize that I’ve gone over the top, I save the picture. I go back one version and there it is. The picture of my senses.

That’s the story.

I have a comment about yesterday’s news and those “good” Catholic school boys doing their best to intimidate a Native American Vietnam Vet. I don’t know if it’s because our so-called president has made it okay to be as nasty as you want to be to people who aren’t like you, or if it’s something else. When did it become okay to do something like that? I assume because they attend a Catholic school that they have learned a simple question. “What would Jesus do?” They should think about that and do it.

My take is simple. First transparency. I’m Catholic. I’m not much of one these days. I attended Catholic school from the first grade until I graduated from high school. We were taught by nuns, brothers and priests. I’m pretty sure that if I was in those pictures and videos, the nuns would have cracked my knuckles with a yardstick until they bled. I’m not much for corporal punishment. Even the dogs don’t get yelled at around here. In this case, let me hit them with a yardstick.

That said, I stand with my Native American brother. Yes. I know his name. But, it’s policy of Storyteller not to publish names unless I have permission. I believe that everybody in the pictures and videos should be expelled. That’ll about kill their chances of ever getting into a good university or college. Good. Their lives should be spent saying, “would you like fries with that?” Once that is done, the entire staff of the school should resign. Obviously, they haven’t done their jobs. They can join the boys at the hamburger factory.

Yes. I believe in second chances. I believe in redemption.  After a suitable time, they all should be welcomed back. Maybe fifteen or twenty years.

I never get this angry. This kind of anger isn’t good for anyone. Me. The person with whom I’m angry. The world. But, this was just too much.

Sorry if I offended anybody. At least I didn’t curse a blue streak.

 

 

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