Archives
A Sample of Pop’s “Bee” Images

Predator

Some of Your Beeswax

Sedum Bumbler

Look of Defiance

Chicory Bee

Bumbling Bees

Garden Cafe

Buzz By Here - To Infinity and Beyond

Pick Your Poison

Blind Side Attack

On a Mission

Honey Bee on Sedum

Covering the Cosmos

Center of the Cosmos

Three's a Crowd

Popular Spot

On A Pedestal

On Golden Rod

The Beeline

Messy Hands

Bee on Yellow

Incoming

Bumble Bee Choreography

Messy Hands

A Sample of Pop’s “People” Photo Collection

Sugar and Spice

Front Porch Portrait

Caged Competitor

Early Adoration

Child In the Ligtht

Stroll Through the Weeds

Attention Grabbing

Eye Contact

On the Line

Eyes of Wonder

Rounding the Curve

Troubadours of Basin Spring Park

Down by the Creek

Sun Day

Catching Some Light

EAA Fireworks

Hear Me Roar

Religious

Christ of the Ozarks

Christ of the Ozarks, Eureka Springs, AR, Arkansas, Religious, Jesus, Statue, Monument
On a recent trip to Eureka Springs, we stopped to see a popular tourist attraction.  This is Christ of the Ozarks.

According to Wikipedia…

Christ of the Ozarks statue is a monumental sculpture of Jesus located near Eureka Springs, Arkansas, atop Magnetic Mountain. It was erected in 1966 as a “Sacred Project” by Gerald L. K. Smith and stands 65.5 feet (20 meters) high.   The statue was primarily the work of Emmet Sullivan, who also worked on nearby Dinosaur World. He had assisted in the work at Mount Rushmore. The statue is modernistic and minimalistic; there is little facial detail or expression, and the lines and forms are generally simplified. The arms are outstretched straight, suggesting the Crucifixion; however the cross is not overtly depicted.

It shows up as #6 on the list of 10 Most Famous Jesus Statues In The World

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Angel Forlorn

Angel, Sculpture, Dark, Wings, Religion, Religious
I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out the expression on this angelic sculpture. One moment it strikes me as uncaring, the next deeply compassionate. As you can see from the title, I settled on forlorn. Maybe the title reveals more of my own feelings about the setting than the statue, itself.

I found this angel in a dark recess among the complex, eclectic collections found at House On the Rock – a notable Wisconsin tourist attraction. We visited this attraction of oddities last August. I took a lot of photos, as you would expect, despite it’s unusually dark atmosphere. There is so much to see there, and yet, they seem to want to make viewing difficult and photography near impossible.

As a photographer, there was a lot at House On the Rock to grab your eye…and frustrate your technique.  Setting my camera aside and looking at it as a common tourist, I did not like the place. It was all too dark, dreary, strange, unkempt and macabre for me. My favorite parts were the gardens outside the buildings, where there was sunshine and life, paths and ponds, goldfish and waterlilies, flowers and honey bees. The dark, cavernous, foreboding nature of the indoors is such a shame because there are so many very cool items in this gigantic and wildly diverse collection.

Twenty years ago, American novelist, Jane Smiley, offered her thoughts after a visit to House On the Rock. I think her description remains accurate today…

Though most people outside of the Midwest have never heard of it, the House on the Rock is said to draw more visitors every year than any other spot in Wisconsin. …it is hard not to be overwhelmed by the House on the Rock. The sheer abundance of objects is impressive, and the warmth most of the objects exude, the way that the toys ask to be played with, for example, makes the displays inherently inviting. But almost from the beginning, it is too much. The house itself is dusty. Windowpanes are cracked. Books are water damaged. The collections seem disordered, not curated. In fact, there is no effort to explore the objects as cultural artifacts, or to use them to educate the passing hordes. If there were informative cards, it would be impossible to read them in the dark. Everything is simply massed together, and Alex Jordan comes to seem like the manifestation of pure American acquisitiveness, and acquisitiveness of a strangely boyish kind, as if he had finalized all his desires in childhood and never grown into any others.

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