Bill DeNoyelles http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3 en-US hourly 1 2000-01-01T12:00+00:00 2010 Gallery Updates! http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3&title=2010_gallery_updates&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1 2010-01-03T15:10:40Z admin Announcements [B] http://billdenoyelles.com There have been updates added to Landscape, People & Other galleries as well as additons made to my exhibition history. Happy New Year! http://billdenoyelles.com

There have been updates added to Landscape, People & Other galleries as well as additons made to my exhibition history. Happy New Year!

]]> Photographs by Bill DeNoyelles http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3&title=photographs_by_bill_denoyelles&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1 2009-11-25T19:26:43Z admin Announcements [B] http://www.flickr.com/photos/billdeno78/ You can see my ongoing photographic works at flicker.com Just click on this blog header. http://www.flickr.com/photos/billdeno78/

You can see my ongoing photographic works at flicker.com

Just click on this blog header.

]]> Chelsea May DeNoyelles Oct. 1995 - Aug.4, 2009 http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3&title=chelsea_may_denoyelles_oct_1995_aug_4_2009&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1 2009-08-07T19:24:05Z admin Announcements [B] She Came to me when I was truely broken. Unexpected. She would be part of the unseen plan for me to put myself back together again. She would force me to get up & out of myself with her long walks at morning and at night. We weathered loss of loved one, loss of home & broken bone. Yet she never left my side. She loved slipping her paw into the crux of my arm as I read laying down. And she loved making snow angels. She was loved by many. Many more than the few who had mistreated her in her first year. She was a crazy Keeshond to a guy in Rutherford. She was also - Chelsea. Chelsea May. The Chels. Chelsum. Barking pumpkin. See you somewhere over Rainbow Bridge. She Came to me when I was truely broken. Unexpected. She would be part of the unseen plan for me to put myself back together again. She would force me to get up & out of myself with her long walks at morning and at night. We weathered loss of loved one, loss of home & broken bone. Yet she never left my side. She loved slipping her paw into the crux of my arm as I read laying down. And she loved making snow angels. She was loved by many. Many more than the few who had mistreated her in her first year. She was a crazy Keeshond to a guy in Rutherford. She was also - Chelsea. Chelsea May. The Chels. Chelsum. Barking pumpkin. See you somewhere over Rainbow Bridge.

]]> Workshops with Dharma Das http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3&title=workshops_with_dharma_das&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1 2009-08-04T11:58:23Z admin Announcements [B] http://www.dharmadas.com Bringing the practical application of Dharma and techniques into daily life. For information and schedule click on the header. http://www.dharmadas.com

Bringing the practical application of Dharma and techniques into daily life.
For information and schedule click on the header.

]]> Sonnet by Bernadette Mayer http://billdenoyelles.com/blog/index.php?blog=3&title=sonnet_by_bernadette_mayer&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1 2009-05-28T19:06:09Z admin Announcements [B] Is the work in loud color secrets waiting to be done Like if we mention the overlooked haunted house displays Counting both the hiking and hitchhiking rainbow families Dear mother dear mother the church is cold the church Is cold is only a form of William Blake’s daily life’s Permitting the sights of concepts’ prearranged numberings I will show you rectangles, there were the mountain laurels Of the houses & people to their not drawn breath lines Transforming a meadow to what they call straight lines The baptized enclave of non-saintly sun set & rise By holding the thought of love absolutized in July There were faces & arms when no figures appeared, he At noon shows a view: It’s what we see out the window Yet I know it’s a picture of the house from which we look, In which we all live. Is the work in loud color secrets waiting to be done
Like if we mention the overlooked haunted house displays
Counting both the hiking and hitchhiking rainbow families
Dear mother dear mother the church is cold the church
Is cold is only a form of William Blake’s daily life’s
Permitting the sights of concepts’ prearranged numberings

I will show you rectangles, there were the mountain laurels
Of the houses & people to their not drawn breath lines
Transforming a meadow to what they call straight lines
The baptized enclave of non-saintly sun set & rise
By holding the thought of love absolutized in July
There were faces & arms when no figures appeared, he

At noon shows a view: It’s what we see out the window
Yet I know it’s a picture of the house from which we look,
In which we all live.

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