. . . for some. So, please-please-please! If you have delicate sensibilities, DO NOT continue. Stop here. This post contains images that are offensive to some. I know because one of the two people I've shared them with have told me so. They said they were offensive, macabre, and just plain weird. And, since this is meant to be a place where I write about correspondence, writing instruments, inks and such, some of you might think this is totally off-topic or weird.
In my defense, I have discovered that beauty lies in death as much as it does in life. Nature is what it is. Artists look through different lenses. Some may view my images "through a glass, darkly." To me, they're dark beauty.
Just days ago cleared my Mac of over 7K photographs. The dead grackle photos were among them. I did it after I misplaced that lovely mail. Guilt pushed me into tidying things up. So, I stored them on portable hard drives and burned them onto cds. Guess what. I couldn't find them! I searched so long. Just as I decided to cry, I took a break from looking, and I read the comment from phonelady61. It was like she knew I was in a mess.
Her query gave me the courage to gather up my resolve like Scarlett O'Hara gathered up her hoop skirt and petticoats before following her headstrong resolve to get things done. I searched my Lil' Mac, and there they were. Patty and I believe that everything happens for a reason. So, one more time . . . If you have the courage, I hope you will read on with no disdain, no misplaced erroneous misjudgment, or repugnance for this limner.
***I collect things. I collect interesting things. You should see my collection of pens, pencils, quills, feathers, inks . . . I'm working on getting sand for that buzzard's quill. I'll be writing with it soon enough.
I feed birds. I take photographs of unusual birds. Katy used to be the rice capital of Texas. We are surrounded with bird sanctuaries. Bird watchers flock to the rice paddies after the harvests. Now, almost all the rice paddies have been turned into housing developments and strip malls.
One morning I went out back, with My Third Eye as usual. Something blue-black, totally out of place, and startling caught my eye. My impromptu bird bath had an occupant. It didn't move. No matter how close a grackle lets you near, they never let you as close as I came to this one, before it clicked. You see, I thought I was watching it watching me. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I was a foot away before I got the full picture.
Instinct is a funny thing. Mine at that moment was to shoot. In the middle of shooting, I thought QUILLS! Yes. Quills from the tail feathers!
Lots and lots of quills. And I thought the little floaters were flower petals. I had to photograph the phenomena because no one would believe me if I didn't.
All those quills, right?
(. . . to be continued?)