lloydslensphotographyllc

Working With Stone (And hearts of stone too)

black and white photography, Thoughts and Musing

I’ve always been interested in certain trade skills. Cutting stone is one of them. To properly cut a stone one must have to be able to read the small lines that tell you where small faults are inside the stone. Stone cutting is thought to be a very masculine endeavor. The uninitiated often has visions of the stone cutter as a muscle bound brute striking mighty blows until the stone gives way. While it takes some elbow grease to wrestle a large piece of rock into place one doesn’t have to have extreme strength. Ancient technology like A-frames or block and tackle make it much easier.

But I really want to talk to you about the actual cutting process. It’s not about strength. It’s about control. A mighty blow with Thor’s hammer would be manly for sure but it’s also going to ruin the work. The key to getting that nice straight cut is patience. It often starts with abrading a line in the place you want to cut. Sometimes you need to drill and use a wedge. Then you place your chisel on the spot and tap it with the hammer. The vibration of chisel travels into the stone weakens the spot until a crack forms.

This is also how to change a difficult situation. Or deal with a difficult personality. If your goal is to destroy a relationship then hammer away like Thor and vanquish the enemy. But keep in mind that an enemy is what you will produce. But, if that goal is to shape a relationship from raw stone then the small light taps over a long time is how it’s best done.

It’s also how to set someone free. (Including ourselves sometimes)

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” – Michelangelo

In today’s microwave world of instant gratification we’ve lost the value of accomplishment. Some of Michelangelo’s works took decades. The investment of time and imparting of life energy is what gives value to an angel shaped hunk of rock. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that don’t be surprised if instant success leaves us with a hollow victory. Accomplishment is born from the struggle. The harder the struggle is then the more satisfying the accomplishment will be. Even Michelangelo struggled. I don’t have a source but I remember one of art teachers talking about Michelangelo’s unfinished works and that how some of were abandoned because a fault formed in the wrong spot. The lesson I learned was that to become a master is to have failures and move forward anyway. If we want success then we walk away from the ruined piece with our tools and our experience and we get to work on a new piece by making those small taps in just the right place. And, we do it again and again until the angel is free.

Destination Uknown (part 5)

Fiction Story

This post is part of a writing challenge by Bertek D, Penumbra. It’s a bit of a departure from my normal post. The idea is to pick up from where a previous author left off and write a segment of your own that ends in a cliffhanger. I have taken the liberty of mixing in qualitiesof a character that I am developing for a separate project but I think it works well.

Please visit the other authors for the full story.

There was so much spinning in my head. If I told Ann about my sister’s abilities she would eventually figure out our true bloodlines. The family would not be pleased and I was already in hot water over the incident with Sylvia. Something had to be done to snap Agatha out her current mental state. I told Ann to please wait while I checked on my sister. As I climbed the spiral staircase I ran my hand along the carvings on the rail. The symbols were like Braille. To an outsider the symbols were just strange art but in my family it was a secret message. It was the combination to a lock. I topped the staircase and proceeded down the hall to the third door on the right. The spare room was used for storage. The stacked boxes were crowded in with just enough room left to pass along the wall. They were full of the trinkets and more mundane items my family had collected over the centuries. The musty smell of the boxes filled my nostrils as I slid along the wall. Finally, I came to open space in the back. An antique mirror hung on the wall. The dark wooden frame held symbols that match the carvings on the rail. I had to activate them in the right order or a booby trap would solve my problems permanently. I took a deep breath and entered the combination. As I touched the last symbol they all lit up in sequence and the glass became liquid. I stepped through the mirror and into the secret library that held my family’s real inheritance. If there was a cure for Agatha’s condition it would be found here in the other world.

I Pulled my antique Zippo from my pocket and lit the wick. In the soft yellow glow of the flame I could see rows and rows of books. I was looking for the lever that activated the gas lights when something moved in the shadows. Nobody else should even know about this room much less be creeping around in the dark. My grandfather’s sword hung in display near the secret door. For the first time in almost a century it’s rest would be disturbed.

Thinking about Springtime

black and white photography, Uncategorized

West Virginia is still a few weeks from Spring. I’ve been anxiously awaiting the bursts of color and the sound of tweeting birds. At the end of February, I start looking at the buds on the trees for signs of life. The Dogwood is one of the first to wake up. I began to get excited just thinking about it. The long cold nights have been giving way to earlier sunrises and later sunsets every day. Soon it will be time to plant gardens and gather the dead wood from the lawn for the fire pit. In the past few days I’ve started hearing the frogs sing and the hatchling fish have been spotted in the stream that runs through my property. Life is returning to the mountains once more.

Because of Love

Uncategorized

I’ve walked the rocky roads,

Because of Love.

I’ve climbed the steepest mountains,

Because of Love.

I’ve worked from dawn to dusk and beyond,

Because of Love.

I’ve carried the heavy burdens,

Because of Love.

I’ve endured the wind and rain,

Because of Love.

All the work that was done, all battles won, all the fires fought and all the gifts that were bought

Were Because of Love.

I came home to your open arms and found fulfillment,

Because of Love.

The image above was taken above the Southridge shopping center in Kanawha County West Virginia.

Evening On The Kanawha River

Color Photography

Late last summer I managed to get a nice shot of sunset over the Kanawha River. The golden dome in the background is our capital building. My home is at the other end this river. When I was a kid I was told that the word Kanawha was a Native American word for big river. Today I checked via Google and was given a few more interpretations. The Shawnee say that it’s a word for new water and the Catabwa say it means friendly brother. That’s odd to me because I have always thought that both tribes spoke Algonquin. What’s in a name anyway? Whatever Kanawha means it’s a major resource. The tug boats are often seen pushing massive amounts of coal up and downstream. The Kanawha River has been a major resource for thousands of years and it still is today.