In The Light Of A Rose By Stephen Craig Rowe

In the light of a rose there seems to me to be a fair and poetic land.  Where color is true soft and bright.  A place of peace and yearning.
In the adventure
of
Spring.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Painting Studio Walking The Rain By Stephen Craig Rowe

Walking rain
November drizzle wept damp gray

sky all

the day and night.

Fog longing soft shadows
nearly apeare

then whisp away wrapped

in a cloak of swirling

leaves as an

old ghost whould seem to be,

and then not. 

Mind your step the walk is slick, take my arm and take care.

It is so quiet in the fog and drizzle she said.

The fallen leaves have a unique scent this time of year.  Or is it just this night?

Perhaps.

The lamp post glowed as the last roses faded in the fog and the rains came.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Full Moon Of August by Stephen Craig Rowe

With one hand in the earth and one hand in the sky

Sleep does not come easy in light of the August moon.

Dreams wrap around a breeze, flapping window shades all night long, in and out of tossing and turning a glow of silver blue in and through the clouds.  With one hand in the sky soar

As stars rain in the garden.

In light of the August moon.

As ever be well.  Stephen Craig Rowe

PAINTING STUDIO 4th Of July Weekend 2011 by Stephen Craig Rowe

 

 

 

     The holiday weekend is a time for family, friends, cooking out, parades and celebrating the birth of The United States Of America.  It is also  Canada Day weekend for our northern neighbors and allies.  My part of the mid west is hot, humid, without a breeze and thought I was about to melt while on my walk today.  Will be sure to partake of liquid refreshment over the weekend and on Monday night may climb the ridge to watch fireworks over the river. 

     I thank my son and those he serves with at the Special Forces forward operating base in Afghanistan for their service.   Also thank all who serve here and overseas in the military as well as all first responders and those who serve.  Wish you all a good, safe, meaningful and Happy 4th Of July and Canada Day Weekend.   Now off to find some of that liquid refreshment.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

    

    

Rose On The Run, A PAINTING STUDIO Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

     Wait all the winter long for spring soft winds, rains and green in the warm for the roses.

      The colors and scents seem to close a door to the world, yet open a window.  Time in the garden, small though it is tends to take one away from the trial and strife of the day to day.

     Or so it seems to me as I get into the roses and day to day see the roses run in life from cold winter roots, tiny shoots that become buds and blossom in late spring and summer.

    There free and alone all the chit chat bird song and sound is absorbed  by the images of summer as the roses are on the run.

     Roses on the run, ever a joy.  Here today and ever in memory.

     Wonder not how sweet the blessing, but take and behold the wonder of the poetry in the fold of a rose.

     Rose on the run no one can hold you forever.  For we are also poetry held in the fold of the rose.  There but for a moments grace we hold each other in the reality of a sacred image never frozen in time, for time is all time. 

     Rose on the run, petals in the sun rain on your brow smile as sweet as summer sounds spoken in silence against a screen door slapped shut in the wind.  Spring held taught then wrap the buzz of night around you.  None of the ghosts speak but rather sneak in your sheets and surround dreams tossing and turning as real as real is.  In dreams as a rose on the  run and reflections in the  wine. 

     As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe     

Painting Studio First Rose Bloom In The Small Garden 2011, by Stephen Craig Rowe

     The first rose of this year recently bloomed in my small garden and I had to take camera to the yard in order to share some of these images and words.  Am sure some are thinking, “ old Stephen is a bit nuts about his roses and into his cup of gin again”.  Fine, for this is true and would not have it any other way because of the joy found and seen in the first rose of spring as she flowers, then graces my eyes with a silent poetry, a visual affirmation that the artist is alive, well, and in tune with nature as much as one may be in the miracle of life in the all.  Or something like that as one re creates images that capture moments the painter/poet desires to share. 

     There one may begin to understand my personal feeling for the first rose of spring, for there seems to be a light within the flower that displays an energy as if the rose gives light as well as takes light.

     Though only a simple painter and sometimes bad poet there is a  profound beauty in the fold of petals of the first rose of spring.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

PAINTING STUDIO Home by Stephen Craig Rowe

     Sunday night before my trip sleep was hard to find as I kept waking and looking at the clock, then trying to fall back asleep only to wake seemingly moments later to look at the clock again.  On Monday I did take a good nap in the van on the road to Danville for the landscape was as drab and grey as the day.  Cold and winds prevailed through mid week.  On the lodging ward of the VA Medical Center in Danville I did have a room to myself and was glad that the evening meal was by no means fit to eat because I wanted to limit my intake in order to ease the cleansing that would take place on Tuesday night.  The hospital sounds on Monday night made sleep hard to find but on Tuesday morning a good nap was taken on the van on the road to Indianapolis.
     On Tuesday arrived at the VAMC in Indy early in the morning but did not have any appointments until Wednesday so I visited some staff, made myself useful here and there with fellow Veterans, then spent some time in the computer lab.  Checked into the hotel around 4pm and began the cleansing prep for the procedure on Wednesday.  Had to drink eight ounces of the foul mixture every ten minutes until 12 glasses were consumed and it sure did clean me out.  Hotel noise and jets flying over made Tuesday night sleep hard to find as my thoughts raced toward the procedure on Wednesday morning.
     Before the colonoscopy my surgeon came into the room and introduced himself with a hand shake.  I said, " Doctor, there is no need to introduce yourself.  How could I ever forget the man who saved my life. "  As we all take pride in our work my remark had the desired effect and caused him to smile thus putting all in the room at ease.  The procedure was flawless and the results were outstanding.  No cancer and the next scope will be in three years! 
     Upon hearing this news, I damn near cried for joy but saved my tears and said a quiet prayer of thanks. 
     As I waited for the van to take me home I noticed a fellow veteran I had seen the previous day who had Parkinson like symptoms and was wearing a short sleeve cotton shirt waiting in the lobby.  Winter winds and cold had finally settled into the mid west.  I went to the canteen and bought an insulated hooded sweat shirt, took it to the lobby and gave it to the fellow veteran.  He said that he had a coat at home and as I helped him  put it on I said that though you are far from home, this  is home.  Merry Christmas.  He shook my hand and thanked me.
     That afternoon on the van ride back to Peoria a much needed nap was in order though interrupted by road sounds and sway of the coach I was only half asleep.  Late afternoon as the sun set on the horizon the light cast below the clouds formed a band of red that flashed behind trees, farms, hedges and the place where land meets the sky.  I was fully awake then and in that beauty my eyes became wet as the last blaze of light seemed to sink into the earth.
     Though it was dark when I arrived home, the house was full of light, had a drink or two, a fine home made meal, a wonderful telephone conversation with the fine arts photographer in Georgia and went to sleep with a smile on my face and slept like a rock.
As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

In And Out Of The Screen, Space Is Only As Deep As One Makes It By Stephen Craig Rowe Published On Google Blogger July, 2010

I am not one to re-post stuff time and time again, but I really like this screen shot.  The photograph was taken last August on an early Sunday morning.  I call it a screen shot because of the texture that the screen gives the images rather than a screen shot that one's web cam can do.  As I walked myself through the set up with camera, tripod and light there was just a perfect setting for the shot on the window ledge.  The light reflected in and out in a most pleasing visual quality that I found most poetic as the screen gave a texture to the work that gave this photograph a push and pull that draws the viewer within and without the image.  I have done this with a few other images that are striking with the screen effect.

And without.  So here we are on a new adventure making Space as deep as one makes it. 

One word at a time, it seems.  Then again,

one word

can change the world

and

improve the betterment

of all.

As ever be well,

Stephen Craig Rowe

• 

RAIN ON THE MOUNTAIN A Song Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

" In the space between the words poetry is

best spoken aloud, quiet and near the fire. "

Stephen Craig Rowe

The eyes spark alit in the embers of words quietly spoken, ever remembered in texture, tone, shape, form, rythem and grasp. There she came nearly frozen from winter's crewl grip in silence with a heart full of life, yet nearly stone cold, alone and removed from the fire sweet warm and light.

In the shadows she sang quiet in the meadow, real as the dream within. Walls strong enough to sustain and repel the Ice Princess and the Snow Queens clear blue kiss. Rain, rain, rain, spring rain mist the mountain. Hear her caw and calling. Late in the night, past the midnight hour. Dare to watch the stars and drink the silence.

Ever clear as a kiss of rain upon a rose or tossed about on a leaf reflecting the

light of stars splashed on all of the oceans

of the worlds.

Is it one thing? Or another? Here there and ever, never everywhere.

Knee deep in rose petals she danced in the Spring laughing in the creeks, rivers and streams. Dancing on the seas. As bright as Moon light, and as free as the salt sad burning tears of joy and rapture

that scar

then heal.

Fingers trace

blind signs.

As the Spirit sings that ever special note. The word from within that has ever been and ever shall be best spoken, quiet near the fire, and the light in your eyes. For there one becomes the space between the words and God willing experience

Poetry.

As ever be well. Stephen Craig Rowe

No espaço entre as palavras é poesia melhor falado em voz alta, calma e perto do fogo. " Stephen Craig Rowe Os olhos faísca alit brasas no silêncio das palavras faladas, sempre lembrado na textura, tom, forma, forma, ritmo e alcance. Aí ela veio quase congelado de inverno da crewl grip em silêncio com um coração cheio de vida, ainda cerca de pedra fria, sozinha e retirado do fogo doce quente e luz. Nas sombras ela cantou calma no pasto, como o verdadeiro sonho dentro. Muralhas forte o suficiente para sustentar e repelir os Ice Princess e da Neve Queens azul claro beijo. Chuva, chuva, chuva, chuva Primavera névoa da montanha. Crocitar e ouvi-la chamando. Atrasos na noite, passada a meia-hora. Ouse ver as estrelas e beber o silêncio. Ever clara como um beijo de chuva sobre uma rosa ou atirados sobre uma folha refletindo sobre o luz de estrelas splashed sobre todos os oceanos dos mundos. Trata-se de uma coisa? Ou outro? Aqui, e nunca, nunca em toda a parte. Joelho profundas no rose petals ela dançou na Primavera rindo nas enseadas, rios e córregos. Dançando sobre o mar. Lua tão brilhante como luz, e tão livre como o sal queima tristes lágrimas de alegria e arrebatamento a cicatriz então curar. Dedos traço Sinais cego. Como o Espírito que canta sempre especial nota. A palavra de dentro do que já foi e sempre será melhor dito, calma perto do fogo, e à luz dos seus olhos. Para existir um torna-se o espaço entre as palavras e se Deus quiser experiência Poesia. Como sempre estar bem. Rowe stephen Craig

PAINTING STUDIO AND THE ACLU

I don't know about you but the times are a changing. Here we hold holy rights, and an awesome responsibility to care for the planet, universe and those that dwell within. I am only a simple painter and sometimes bad poet and care. So I shall post this,
Dear ACLU Supporter,




Thanks for sending a message to your senators asking them to reject efforts to use and politicize the Defense Department Authorization bill as a vehicle for undermining civil liberties. Your voice, and that of hundreds of thousands of other ACLU activists, are being heard in Washington. After months and months of pressure and newer and more disturbing revelations, Attorney General Holder is close to appointing a special prosecutor to investigate torture. And we have allies in the White House and in Congress who are committed to cleaning up the mess left by the Bush administration.



Please ask your friends and family to let their senators know that preserving our values and the rule of law are a top priority. We’ve made it easy to send your friends a message. Just cut and paste the message below into a new email message.



Thanks for all you do to defend the Constitution,



Anthony D. Romero

Executive Director

ACLU
To me the rule of the law is the will of the people expressed through their chosen form of government. Just a thought. Please visit http://ilovemountains.org/ http://one.org/ and keep your fingers on the keypad to improve the betterment. As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe



**************************************



Subject: Help us stand strong



Hi there,



This week, the mammoth Defense Department Authorization bill will reach the Senate floor. This must-pass legislation could easily become a vehicle for amendments to stop the closing of Guantánamo Bay, undermine efforts to hold to account those responsible for the Bush torture program, and, most troubling of all, to promote a new system of indefinite detention without charges and without trials.



You and I have to respectfully urge the Senate to not let this important piece of legislation become a vehicle for undermining civil liberties. I just sent a message to my senators. Will you do the same?



Take action: http://action.aclu.org/senatealert



Thanks!

Rain, Flowers and Stones by Stephen Craig Rowe

Rain flowers and stones were April's travels on the road and in the wings.  Before dawn I curl up in a back seat of a van turn up my collar and try to sleep away the ride with prayers and strangers.  Old soldiers not bound for glory these days as the trips are to Veteran's Hospitals.  My first trip in April was a day trip to Danville, Il. for a visit to the palliative care unit at the VA Medical Center.  The unit was clean, well appointed and the staff caring and compitent.  Prior to my appointment I was asked to wait in a day room with other patients.  I was the only person in the day room not in a wheel chair or bed hooked up with IV's and breathing devices.  This was clearly a place for those on their last legs or no legs as the case may be moaning and staring blindly at nothing on the television.  Not my cup of tea as it were thinking about those poor old boys so strong then and so weak and helpless fading away.  I thought about my grandfather, father, Army friends and thought about running away, then my name was called for a brief interview with the Dr.  We talked about my case, what Palliative Care was about the Hospice Program and such.  I want nothing to do with this as I would rather crawl into the woods or take a bottle of gin to a whore house for my end of days than drool about running on empty in some hospital. 

I have things to do I thought as I left the unit.  Paintings to paint, bad poetry to write, maybe books or a novel one day.  Then took a walk on the grounds and looked at the sky.
The second trip was a three day trip to Danville with a day trip to Indianapolis for a super CT Scan to determine the nature of my ills that did not.  A meeting with my surgeon in Indy was good and have a feeling that this Dr. has it all together but that may be another story.  We shall see. 
The third trip to Danville and Indy in April was in the last week for a scope and another biopsie.  Should have the pathology report within a few days.  Oh, this last trip was a three day visit away and it was rainy and cool for the most part but I did get to walk the stones. 
When I am away I do talk to people, but not much.  Tend to let them do the talking and I just listen until I have to kindly walk away and be about my own.  Help when I can and do what I do and do it well.  Pushing old hippie dudes in wheelchairs, talking stuff, looking people in the eyes as they tell me.  When I look them in the eyes they see.
Late in the afternoon I went to the Danville National Cemetery  and walked the stones again. 
Alone in the stones
No life in sight
the White on green
rows grow and fold
upon the other rows of
White Stones.
Each one a Soldier,
Veteran, Hero,
Family history.
Honor for my hand and eyes
to touch the stones
as I
Walk the Stones
alone in silence and
Snap to attention
give a crisp
Salute.
As ever be well,
Stephen Craig Rowe

ROSES AND RAIN

Rosas e chuva, o amor ea primavera. Como poderia ter um amor sem rosas e os pensamentos de primavera? Alguns podem amar sozinho sem rosas e alguns podem amar sozinho sem mola macio arrefecer chuvas chill para a ecologização e contentamento. Como eu


andou a névoa cinzenta na cabeça fletida orações húmido passos

chamou-me de volta para sombras. Luz em profundidade

e no tranco caminharam as palavras. Pensamento as palavras que a poesia andou com

mim.

Em uma curiosa fundir de arte, auto, um lugar calmo no Todos e

Eu queria fugir.

Para mergulhar na rosas e amor, para a neblina ea ecologização

para as estações do ano e ver que apenas sonhos

Sonhos vista

uma rápida imagem de um tempo um pouco como um poema

ou oração

silencioso gasto na névoa.

As árvores no cume parecia onda, um pouco como se a brisa suave, o drizzle menos de um calafrio, e eu corri para a chuva

Já de regresso.

Como sempre estar bem, com amor,

Stephen Craig Rowe

ROSES AND RAIN

Roses and rain, love and spring. How could one have love without roses and thoughts of spring? Some may love alone without roses and some may love alone without spring soft cool rains chill to the greening and glee. As I


walked the grey mists in head bent prayers damp steps

drew me back to shadows. Light in depth

and in stride walked the words. Thought the words as the poetry walked with

me.

In a curious meld of art, self, a quiet place in the All and

I wanted to run.

To dive into the roses and love, into the mist and the greening

into the seasons and view dreams that only

Dreams view

one fast frame at a time rather like a poem

or prayer

silent spent in the mist.

The trees on the ridge seemed to wave, a bit as the breeze became soft, the drizzle less of a chill, and I ran into the rain

Ever to return.

As ever be well, with love,

Stephen Craig Rowe

Nine Roses The Garden by Stephen Craig Rowe

Several years ago I cut some roses from my little garden and arrainged them in a champaigne flute.  Then waited for just the right light with my Cannon T50 hovering on the tripod.  When the classic composition was properly framed and the early evening light seemed to shimmer just for a moment.  I held my breath and let the shutter fly.  Later that evening at World Famous Big Al's I placed the flute of roses on the stage for a favored exotic dancer.  As she thanked me for the roses and told me how beautiful they were I saw happy tears sparkle in her eyes and smiled.

Yesterday afternoon I was able to spend some time in the small garden taking on some lite tasks of weeding and cutting back stems that winter was not kind to.  Tend to cut away the brown down to the green just above a tiny sprout.  My landlord dropped by and we made some small talk.

" Did they make it through the winter "?  He asked pointing to the roses.

" Eight of the nine did.  Don't see any signs of the JFK rose ".

" We don't have much luck with roses.  How was your trip to the VA Medical Center in Danville"?

" Mostly routine.  Lab works, a follow up interview with the surgeon, another CT scan and a visit with the wound care nurse".  It had been only 32 days since my operation I thought.  Then said,

" Will know more after the CT scan in Indianapolis later this month.  The scanner there is more advanced than the one in Danville and after the scan will meet with the radiology-oncology team".

" Hope things go well in Indy".  He said and left me to my gardening.

Time spent in the garden to me is rather like taking a walk in the woods or getting into a good book when all the trouble and strife of the world fades as one's focus is on the intricate beauty of life and thoughts are kind as they wander within and without. 

I did promise my dear friend Riette from Port Edward, South Africa a photo of the front of my house.  It is early spring and this morning is grey.  The shot was taken about an hour ago and is rather stark but as summer comes so do the hanging baskets and pots of flowers to brighten the porch.  The rest of the photographs are of the young roses and some signs of life from my walk on Saturday April 4th.

This just in from http://bobdylan.com/ 

Listen to "Feel A Change Comin' On"

From Bob Dylan's new album

TOGETHER THROUGH LIFE

http://video.newsweek.com/#?t=18540585001&l=25152707

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Spring In The Midwest Sunday Morning Snow

As I slept in dreams of sweet spring rains and warm winds giving depth to the greening
IT SNOWED ALL NIGHT LONG!
When I woke and parted the curtins
there was a smile as my eyes took in the landscape draped in white.  Put on a pot of coffee and dressed to experience the quiet poetry of snow in my backyard.

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

On The Road Again With Apture and you

PAINTING STUDIO UPDATE:

Work has been busy and things a bit hectic as I am on the road to Danville again. I report at 11:am on February 25th at the Danville, Illinois Veterans Administration Medical Center for surgery at 1:pm on that day. The surgeon will perform a Left Colectomy. I will be in the hospital for five to eight days then at home in recovery for six to eight weeks.

I was not going to blog about this but some of you may have been wondering about where I have been and am about to go. Now you know.

My thoughts are of all of you, here there and everywhere. There is a comfort in the knowing and the space between the words that transends and extends understanding. As quiet as a brush stroke or the scratch of a pen. That bind the mind to poetry and grace. Yes, the white rose was grown in my little garden. Those are dew drops and not tears. I do have a new phone, Samsung Instinct that is like a little hand held computer. Way cool. Am sure to have time to figure out all of the features. In time. For time is all we have to be of the all. Oh yeah, United States Congressman Aaron Schock visited Jim's Steak House in Peoria last night, we talked a bit and he said that he would call when I was in the hospital.



A special thanks to Deborah Smith http://www.deborah-smith.com and  http://www.bellebooks.com/  for sending the sound trac from Tender Graces the novel by Kathryn Magendie http://kathrynmagendie.spaces.live.com/   to be released this spring by BelleBooks.

As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe

SAUDADE REVISITED

This is the first Christmas Season without my Father. I miss him very much and though he is in my blood, bones, heart and soul. He is often in my thoughts. This is why I am reposting the following piece.

SAUDADE


A poem in my own words inspired by JouElam+Sofie http://mudosdaventuras.spaces.live.com/



INTRODUCTION: SAUDADE is a Portugese word that was given

to me in love and friendship. I can not translate this word, I

can only write what I feel.



Saudade



Echo in the valley

Cry in the night

Free and alone

Trickle in the

moon lit streams

That flow from

My eyes

onto the windows

In the keypad

That scratches

Only a high held note

The Violin

Trembles

Splashing wine

On streets that shine

With tears soaked in

Memory

Of those near and dear.

Of those that have ever been and ever shall be.

Of those that have risen'

Of those that sing

Of those that are

Of the Light and Spirit.

Of the woods, rain, forests, grasses, trees, limbs and

Leaf sparkle

Dew drip dawning

Rainbow brow smile

Reflect the night Sky

Stars

Dance in

The glistening drop

Waving at the shore

Foaming and breaking on the rocks

Receed, Smile at the Moon.

Reflect in the pond

Skipping stones

and remember.

SAUDADE,

Home is where the

Art is, forever home

Or away

Within the All.





SAUDADE! As ever be well. With love, Stephen Craig Rowe





Saudade







Ecoa no vale



pranto na noite



livre e abandonada



lua de fluxos brilhantes



iluminando os minúsculos córregos



que escorrem debruçados



nas janelas dos meus olhos



apenas a tecla em arrepios



tremúlos



é o sustenido



o violino



segurando uma nota altíssima



derramando o vinho do nosso copo



nas ruas encharcadas



pelo cintilar



da memória das lágrimas



de todos os que nos são intímos e queridos.



de todos aqueles que sempre foram,estiveram



são, estão, serão e estarão connosco



todos aqueles



que cantam



todos aqueles que são



luz do espírito



dos bosques, das florestas , das chuvas , da relva , das arvores , dos troncos , das folhas



faísca



gota d' orvalho amanhecendo



sorriso na sobrancelha do arco-íris



estrelas



reflectidas no Céu noturno







A Stephen Craig Rowe Poem



Translation And Adaptation By JouElam



A very touched thank you to our Dear Friend Stephen



Author's note: It is I who thank you. You are in my thoughts and prayers. As ever be well. With love. Stephen Craig Rowe

Save Sayed Pervez Kambaksh

A university student in Afganistan has been condemed to death for downloading and distributing information about women's rights on his computer. Please take a moment to sign the Independent's petition by following this link:

http://zeynepankara-live.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!612AF29A1928F789!5453.entry

Thank you, As ever be well. Stephen Craig Rowe