For a while, I was quite irritated with this fish sculpture’s title. But today, as I was posting the picture, I realized — Rufus Porter, duh. Why not Google him? And like light dawning, the sculpture made sense. Rufus Porter was a 19th-century artist, inventor, even muralist. A museum dedicated to his life and work is in Bridgton, Maine. I feel warmer toward this fish sculpture now and more appreciative of its detail and style. It even makes me want to pick up a paint brush. 🙂 Currently swimming in the lobby of the Anderson County Library. A couple more shots are here.
Hartwell Lake, Sunday morning. As you can see, the trees in the background are muted in color. It was a cold, wintry morning — and I loved every minute of it. Even the gray sky. The “beach” around the lake is now quite large and I let the dogs run a bit off leash. They were so excited — Lily jumped in the water. Open mussell shells sprinkled the red clay, but I didn’t get a good shot of them. Here are some other pictures.
One of the gems of Anderson. Holy Trinity Lutheran Church. Anderson’s Calligrapher a/k/a Cathey was kind enough to show me the sanctuary. Love the wooden beams and accents. The light streaming through the stained glass. The altar. It’s a beautiful church, and its small size is endearing. I took a few others that I hope showcase the church’s uniqueness.
What a beautiful, intricate headstone this is. I find the detail tasteful and arresting, causing me to stop and consider at length.
Not too long ago I met a fella whose vocation was stone carving. Most of his work was placed in cemeteries, but his portfolio included public pieces as well. It makes me wonder about the maker of this tombstone. Did he or she design it?
I also wonder about Cpl. Robert W. Carnes. Only 25. What is the significance of the number on the cross? Was he a prisoner of war? Is that his number in a military cemetery overseas? What were the circumstances of his death? The bared wire, discarded helmet, and frayed cross bring to mind the worst of World War II battles. And yet the subtle ribbon etching brings my eyes upward toward the cross and beyond. Cpl. Carnes is home and at rest. Concord Baptist Cemetery.
I love the contrast of this Concord Baptist steeple with the one below. This building was built in 1957 — which is perhaps why the steeple is round. A sign on the door designates it Prayer Chapel. Another contrast with the (much) larger sanctuary below.
I’d like to post a house of worship each week. There are so many in Anderson — I tend to overlook them, as they are in front of me all the time. We’ll see how far I get with this new goal. [Update: not far at all. 🙂 ]
Concord Baptist sits at the intersection of Reed and Concord. The first time I saw it…stunned would be a good word. The sheer magnitude of the building. Not to mention the complex. More pictures are here.
Like changing a tire, carving a fowl is a skill one may not use everyday — but is simply relieved to have when it’s needed. I remember in college, a table of 6 or 8 of us faced a small chicken on a platter. Not one with a clue how to begin. Quite embarrassing to be hacking willy-nilly at such a pretty bird, when I knew it could be carved delicately instead.
So on Thanksgiving, suddenly realizing that I still don’t possess the skill, I paid close attention to this carving master. With his able disecting of the bird, this turkey fed 12 people with meat left over.
I didn’t want to post a super cliche picture today, Thanksgiving. I wanted something real. My biggest source of Thanksgiving is the people I love. How fragile life is. They realistically may not be here next year. That’s when I remembered this picture. I snapped it on Halloween. Not a great shot — but the emotion shown on the car needs no explanation. Thanksgiving. He’s home.
This picture’s story is less about the home and more about the hill. River Street Baptist Church sits on a tremendous lot on a high hill overlooking River Street. It’s always fascinated me — as all the other lots surrounding it are typical city-house lots. I mean, can you get a sense of the hill’s magnitude in contrast with its surroundings from this photo? Kinda arresting really. But I couldn’t capture the hill on film…nothing seemed to work. Maybe this does.
Early walk through the neighborhood.