R.S. Williams

All I want is to get the words right.

Tag: Art Is Where You Find It (page 2 of 17)

Wednesday Photo: 1/17/18

“Reflections in a Kiddie Pool Frog Pond”
Heard County, Georgia – 27 September 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Hillside Monday: 1/15/18

“Crape Myrtle and Winter Sky”
LaGrange, Georgia – 3 January 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Friday Photo: 1/12/18

“Water Glass and Black Napkin”
Columbus, Georgia – 9 October 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Every Place Is a Sacred Place

Oak, hickory, dogwood, mountain laurel, sassafras, tulip poplar, elm, sweet gum, locust—I wished I’d brought along my tree book. Frothy green ferns carpeted the ground, but not so thickly that I couldn’t see the dark, glossy poison ivy leaning into the trail. Leaves of three, stay away from me.

Hundreds of young saplings reach skyward for light. Sheltered by the mature trees, they will stay relatively small and grow slowly until those larger trees die and fall. As the saplings become larger trees, new saplings will sprout from the nuts, seeds, and cones nestled in the leaf litter. The new trees will mature, die, and fall back. More new saplings will take their places—and on, and on.

How long has this scene existed? It was here long before the trail; it will be here long after the trail. What did this hollow look like when the only people here were Native Americans? How about before the Native Americans? What plants were here then that aren’t here now—and vice versa?

Thousands of years before we were born, this hillside was home to plants, insects, animals, and people. Hunter and hunted lived and died close to one another. Over thousands of years, something or someone has breathed a final breath and lay down forever on every patch of ground we see here. Every spot is important, hallowed, sacred.

What if we were to bring this presence of mind, to everything we do, everything we say, everywhere we travel? How different would the world be? How different would we be?

Every place is sacred—even if we choose not to think about it.

Photo: “North Georgia Woods” (Blue Ridge, Georgia –19 May 2010)

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

NOTE: This piece has been revised from its previous version, which I first posted here on  23 July 2012.

In the Turn Lane

For a week, the oily-matte black carcass lay undisturbed in the middle of the turn lane. On either side, three more lanes of car and critter hurried past the spiky scramble of feathers. Hard freeze, hard thaw, hard rain—nothing would touch it.

In rural west Georgia, where I grew up, dead animals in the road are a fact of life. With these dead animals comes nature’s clean-up crew. They make quick work of most everything: flattened and ruptured squirrels, opossums, armadillos. Dogs, cats, coyotes, cattle. Unfortunate copperheads, errant guinea hens, eerily headless eight-point bucks, and even the occasional feral hog.

Every creature eats. Every creature is eaten. In the circle of life, flesh never goes to waste.

But all that happens outside of town, in the country. Here, a hundred yards inside the city limits, was not where I expected to see broken, crumpled wings. Here, in the turn lane, was not where I expected to see frozen talons devastated against asphalt.

Like many of us, it sought the company of others, working best in groups. Like many of us, it flew into fate unaccompanied, at a time and in a place it neither expected nor desired.

Only death will eat a vulture.

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Hillside Monday: 1/8/18

“Back Yard, Tuesday, 1:15pm”
LaGrange, Georgia – 4 August 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Friday Photo: 1/5/18

“Virginia Creeper with Late Autumn Drought”
LaGrange, Georgia – 11 November 2016

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Wednesday Photo: 1/3/18

“Jake, with Picnic Table and Deck Railing”
Heard County, Georgia – 2 August 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Wishing You a Happy 2018

“Turquoise Leap”
Denver, Colorado – 10 August 2014

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

Goodbye, 2017

“Stars All Along the Way”
Pine Mountain, Georgia – 7 December 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Wednesday Photo: 12/27/17

“Denim Oops”
Heard County, Georgia – 7 December 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)


From the Back Corner Booth

“You gotta watch Wanda: she’ll slip onions in there when you ain’t looking.”
“Rats gotta have cheese. He’s a cheese rat. Bet he could tear up a bag of peanuts.”
“Drop two bacon and a hashbrown, scattered!”

An immaculate red-and-white ’69 Camaro rumbles into the parking lot. Johnny Cash walks the line from the jukebox speakers to my ears as the cooks sing along. I sip my coffee and watch the broken, beautiful world pass by.

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)

Merry Christmas 2017

“Bright Lights against the Pines”
Heard County, Georgia – 6 December 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)


A song for hard times

Five years ago, I stumbled across this song, and The David Wax Museum‘s “Harder Before It Gets Easier” remains exactly the encouragement I need when things look grim. I love their “Mexo-Americana” sound and unexpected subject matter. This video, art-directed and produced by Shutter + String, is a powerful throwback to some of the most memorable videos of the mid-1980s.

My favorite lines from the song:

You’ve been wrung out and then doused with grief
The ocean of time, in a moment, will be brief
Will be brief…

Hope you enjoy this as much as I do.

Happy Christmas Eve 2017

“A Lesser-Known Christmas Vigil”
Waffle House #646
LaGrange, Georgia – 13 December 2014

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Friday Photo: 12/22/17

“Oncoming Storm with Shadows, in Blue”
LaGrange, Georgia – 22 July 2015

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Friday Photo: 12/15/17

“In a Churchyard at Dusk”
Heard County, Georgia – 7 February 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Bullet Holes, Either Way

At this shot-up sign, County Road 20 dead-ends into State Highway 22, near Rock Mills, Alabama. Years ago, just behind this sign, a rickety shack once balanced on stilt-like pillars. How no car ever missed the road’s end and crashed into that house, I will never know.

I was born in Randolph County. My childhood home is about three miles from this intersection. My paternal grandmother’s childhood home, demolished in the 1980s, was just half a mile from here. My sister and I grew up with our grandparents about seven miles away, in Glenn, Georgia.

All these places say “Home” to me.

“Bullet Holes, Either Way”
Rock Mills, Alabama – 16 June 2015

© R. S. Williams (all rights reserved)

Wednesday Photo: 12/13/17

“Morning Sun with Bourbon and Glass”
LaGrange, Georgia – 1 November 2016

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Hillside Monday: 12/11/17

“Toy Car with Carpet and Wall”
LaGrange, Georgia – 1 September 2016

© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)


Older posts Newer posts

© 2018 R.S. Williams

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑