This is a 7″ x 12″ oil on masonite by my mother, M.E. Snelgrove, signed but not dated. I don’t remember when she did any of these paintings, probably before I was born. She didn’t title the painting but the colours look like autumn to me. It has an orange mat which brings out the colours in the painting. There is a slight glare from the flash that isn’t in the original. I wish I knew how to turn off the flash.
My First University:
The time to graduate had arrived and that year Goetz (the mover and shaker of our class) and I, were the only two candidates from geophysics. The week before we were to don our cap and gown, a recruiter from Mobil Oil showed up and we were informed that one of us might be hired to work with the mighty Mobil. Since my Engineering Physics thesis was right on topic I felt confident going into the interview. I was astounded to find out that I had not been selected. Dr. Blanchard said he couldn’t understand why I had not been chosen because I had the better marks. The choice was based upon our response to a certain question.
With permission of the author. This is an on going story one paragraph at a time beginning on the post of July 6th. We will get back…
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The following video shows “the gentler side of law enforcement”. I hope my blogger friends will enjoy watching it. Samina.
DETROIT (WWJ) – The Port Huron Police Department in the limelight after three of their officers posted a video of them lip syncing to the popular Backstreet Boys song “I want it that way.” It started when Tri-Hospital EMS, who made a video, challenged the Port Huron Police Department to do the same. And when…
My First University:
My thesis in Engineering Physics was subsequently based on seismic methods that involved reflections from boundaries, where different layers meld into one another. All my practical work in the field taught me one rule, which I will elucidate. – interesting deposits may be present, these will always be found in the most tortuous terrain that is alien to whatever geophysical measurements the geology suggests. Let’s call this Martel’s rule.
With permission of the author. This is an on going story one paragraph at a time beginning on the post of July 6th. We will get back to our music and art after this little break.
It may sound very simple but this concept could have easily been corrupted in its connotation by it’s the people offering this ability to you.
When you had your first job you started working because “it is the right thing to do ” or you have to earn money to survive .The reason you didn’t put much value on it initially was because you were so much more connected with yourself than you may be now, meaning that chances are you have been depersonalized to a degree in order to fit in, or to survive. You used to have a boundary between yourself and work, there used to be a line. Does that line exist now or have you compromised yourself in this continuous chase? Have you forgotten that the only reason you work for is to build a better, more enjoyable life, to be more connected with your soul?
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As you prepare your breakfast, think of others
(do not forget the pigeon’s food).
As you conduct your wars, think of others
(do not forget those who seek peace).
As you pay your water bill, think of others
(those who are nursed by clouds).
As you return home, to your home, think of others
(do not forget the people of the camps).
As you sleep and count the stars, think of others
(those who have nowhere to sleep).
As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others
(those who have lost the right to speak).
As you think of others far away, think of yourself
(say: “If only I were a candle in the dark”).
Diğerlerini de Düşün
Kahvaltını hazırlarken, diğerlerini de düşün.
(Unutma güvercinlerin yemini.)
Savaşlara girişirken, diğerlerini de düşün.
(Unutma barış isteyenleri.)…
Eve girerken, kendi evine, diğerlerini de düşün.
(Unutma çadırlarda yaşayan insanları.)
Uyumak için yıldızları sayarken, diğerlerini…
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Deep in the treasure of past yonder days,
Lies mysteries embedded in the memories of forgotten tales.
That past heralding the echoes in ear,
Reminding those of declining days.
Time that bore forsaken fruit,
Thudding in the heavenly canopy,
The roads where mind roam freely
Reminding now it’s only a fallacy.
At Nights watching that firefly,
Of brothers that only smiled,
Of love that starlit stardust had
Reminding me its the oblivion that I had.
Those fairy tales that echoed,
Of tales where the love wins,
Of the truthful that never would be deceived,
Reminding of the relics fancied.
Running racing with the wind
That breeze shushed sashaying the hint
To fervor frantically wedging it’s girth
Falling facing the divine prisma
Reminding now it’s lost under the sham stigma
Moulding as the tectonic plates shifts.
Sailing around the sun,
With time that all started
Will be sundered at the dead…
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