“One of the roles art can play in our lives is to help us see more deeply into the heart of things and beyond the periphery of our everyday perception.”
(Excerpt from Lemons Brook Farm: Lens, Pen and Place, by Sandy Long)
Rosie Starr of WJFF Radio Catskill stopped by Lemons Brook Farm in Bethel, New York to experience the spoken word and digital photography presentation, “Lens, Pen and Place” by Heron’s Eye Communications Co-Founder, Sandy Long. Following her visit, Rosie produced a thoughtful segment about the exhibit for the radio show “Farm and Country” hosted by John Nordstrom.
While at Lemons Brook Farm, Rosie interviewed Sandy, property owner Lou Barr, and Bethany Keene of the Delaware Highlands Conservancy land trust. She also participated in a guided tour of the forested trail on the property and recorded segments of the spoken word event, weaving the various aspects of her experience into a sensitive and insightful show.
Hear how it came together by listening to the Farm & Country episode in the WJFF archives. Rosie’s segment about Lemons Brook farm begins at approximately 8:25 minutes, but the entire show is filled with interesting and entertaining pieces.
Visit Sandy’s Lemons Brook Farm gallery to view the full body of images.
And, read about Sandy’s work in the Spring/Summer 2016 issue of the Wilkes University alumni magazine.
“November is a time of transition to darkening days and dying landscapes. There is still rich color and texture in front of the lens, but also an undeniable sense of things fading, or going away—from the cows that disappeared one day, to the deer that fled the orchard when the hunting began, to the falling leaves and collapsing grasses, to the tonal darkness in the landscape, mirrored in the self on levels deeper than we might understand.”
(Excerpt from Lemons Brook Farm: Lens, Pen and Place, by Sandy Long)
Revelation
There, branches inked into the sky.
Coyote whines,
thin whistle, like kettle at boil
when pressure placed
by water and fire
steams against the cap,
and midnight sky pushes back
until the canine cries erupt.
In yips and cackles they converse,
stitching unseen threads through fading forest,
haunting the sleep of potential prey.
I turn away from the window,
pour the burning water
into silent cup,
watch the steam rise–
becoming nothing.
[Photos, poetry and excerpts © Sandy Long]
