May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
and until we meet again,....
(This Slide show can be viewed in high definition.)
May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. and until we meet again,.... I've always loved this old Irish blessing. Those words must strike a cord with the 50% of my DNA that comes from Ireland. Or maybe it's the way the lines so easily describe the emotional sustenance our natural world provides. After experiencing Ireland last year with my husband and daughter, these words took on a new meaning - one that I've tried to capture in the slide show below. (This Slide show can be viewed in high definition.) Written and photographed by Courtney Snyder
By Courtney Snyder
One highlight of a recent trip to South Carolina was standing beneath this most amazing tree. Having survived hurricanes, floods and earthquakes, Angel Oak is the oldest living tree east of the Mississippi. It is believed to be 1500 years old. As I turn 44 this week, I'm inspired by this tree's age, strength and its ability to extend itself so far out into the world. Writing, photography and slide show by Courtney Snyder. Trumpet and vocals by Louis Armstrong. One of the most peculiar and charming sites in Louisville is a series of camelback shotgun houses which are hidden in the Butchertown neighborhood of Louisville. Peculiar, because as you go out the front door of one of these houses, down the few steps, over the lovely brick side walk and across the narrow street, you walk straight into a large concrete wall - a flood wall. The houses themselves, however, could not have more character. To me they are both a paradox (no view, but an amazing view) and a metaphor (If you have character, you can face anything). I love that about them. The leaves have started to turn here in Louisville. This, along with the death of Steve Jobs and his 2005 Commencement Speech at Stanford, prompted me to visit Cave Hill Cemetery. From part of that speech: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today? Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life." "Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important." "Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new." "Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away." "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life." "Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice." "And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become." - Steve Jobs The Big Four Bridge, an abandoned railroad bridge over the Ohio River, is named after the former Big Four Railroad that served Cleveland, Cincinnati, Chicago and St. Louis. Though completed in 1895, the bridge has been closed and without approaches since 1969, hence the nickname, the Bridge That Goes Nowhere. In my last post, I wondered, "What do those men working on the Big Four Bridge see? How long until they finish, so I can walk up that circular ramp and have their view?" To my surprise and delight, one week later I was able to have those views. Yesterday, thanks to the Waterfront Development Corporation, I had the privilege of being on Big Four Bridge, so that I could take and share these photos. Photography by Courtney B. Snyder.
This post was written by Courtney Snyder.
Each morning for 30 minutes I speed walk, listen to Alison Kraus and take in the views of the water, bridges, boat docks, public art, landscape and Louisville skyline. I'm on the paths of Waterfront Park - the 85 acre green space between downtown and the Ohio River. Six years ago, I started walking here. I was pregnant with my daughter. Moments later it seemed, I was pushing her in a stroller. Then I was biking, with her in a seat behind. Before long, she was biking as I walked. For the last five weeks, I've been pulled back to this place. Each morning, without thinking why (until now), I’m here at the river. But now I’m alone as I take in these views. My daughter has started first grade. Knowing those precious times with her have passed is sad, yet being at the river is not. It nurtures. It gives me peace and inspiration. As I walk, I wonder about my seeming need for these views. Wherever I’ve lived, I’ve depended on the views – the one’s that fill my visual field and make my mind still. Aren’t the experiences that bring us comfort links to moments in our childhood - moments that left an imprint even if not on our daily thoughts? I try to remember what I saw as a child. Initially nothing comes. Then the memories - the views take shape …..a deep valley from high in the Alps, the approach to Venice from a ferry, Notre Dame from a bridge over the Siene River, the Mediterranean from a beach in Barcelona... My father’s career in the Air Force had taken us to Asia and Europe, but it was my parent’s sense of adventure that took us to ‘see the world’. While living in Munich - just one of the places we called home - my parents, three siblings and I traveled across Europe in a Pinto station wagon, set up our tent and took in views few other six to ten year old American children had. As I walk further, I start to wonder about the views of this waterfront that I haven't seen …. yet. What do those men working on the Big Four Bridge see? How long until they finish, so I can walk up that circular ramp and have their view. What are those women on the rowing team seeing as they move across the water? How can I ...... But it's 8:30 - time to part and say goodbye again to this place which has made me stop to feel, to remember, to dream and... now to write. Views from the Big Four Bridge can be seen at my next post, "A Bridge to Somewhere" This past weekend, my husband, daughter and I drove out to Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill - a place I simply love. The timeless and simple architecture, situated on the rolling hills of Kentucky countryside, can only be experienced first hand. “Shaker style was defined from the beginning by their unswerving focus upon the goal of creating heaven on earth. Functionality was everything. Building designs could be both functional and beautiful, but the beauty had to be inherent in the design itself ....” (Catherine L. Carter and Martha E. Geores, University of Maryland) For more information on the Shakers visit: http://gorabs.org/journal/issu/2006/GOR01_01_carter.pdf This visit, I found myself especially taken with architect Micajah Burnett's use of natural light. He was seventeen years old, in 1809, when his parents brought him to live with the Shakers. At the age of twenty-three, he began to design the village here in Kentucky. The Shakers of Pleasant Hill truly lived in a world with a view. There is no end to those views. Here are just a few. Written (and photographed ) by Courtney Snyder.
This post is written (and photographed) by Courtney Snyder. Last week my six year old daughter and I visited one of our favorite places, the Waterfront Park here in Louisville. As always, we spent time with the Flock of Finns - the flock of Marvin Finn (1913 - 2007), an internationally known folk artist from Louisville. Strolling among these colorful birds and thinking about Marvin always inspires me. Quotes from Marvin Finn: "I didn't learn this out of no book. I had to leave school in the first grade and go to the field to work. But I had a hobby of drawing and painting, and I could whittle and build. And I had my imagination." "There were ten boys and two girls in my family, and most of them older than I was, so I didn't have toys except I made them," "I just do what my mind tells me to do. Maybe the good Lord plants these things in my mind. When I leave here and meet the good Lord, I ain’t never going to quit making toys. That’s what my mind tells me. That’s heaven to me. . . making toys . . and I look forward to it all the time.” - Marvin Finn. (These quotes are from the Marvin Finn Website which has further information about Marvin Finn and the Public Art Project that made the Flock of Finns a reality.) If you start close up, you'll see patterns against patterns.... ..and eyes. Back up a little and you'll see their heads. Some with more than others. Then the magnificent birds - all 28 of them. And lastly the flock. My camera can't capture the feeling. Imagine walking around in a children's book. Thank you Marvin - for doing what you loved. This post is by Courtney Snyder. Until recent years, I couldn't understand others attraction to antique items. "They're so drab and colorless," I thought. This changed when I turned 40 and came upon the loveliest spools of thread at a flea market. The sellers had removed them from a mill to be demolished and were selling each for 25 cents. These spools were the start of my love of vintage items that are colorful, functional and simply designed. Below is my collection. Though the dollar values are small, for me they are treasures. My plan was to simply take pictures for this blog. But after seeing the photos together, I noticed similarities and wondered," Why am I drawn to these at this time in my life?"
What are your favorite five to seven? What do you see when you put them together? What do they tell you about where you in your life, what you value, aspire to or long for? There is the something about the visual impact of repetition with variety. This morning I took these pictures as I wandered through Louisville's Architectural Salvage.
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I am an artist, psychiatrist and mother.
I live in Louisville, Kentucky with my husband and daughter. Categories
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August 2013
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