Author: brenda

developing your eye I: home

My throat is parched with crying, my

tongue clings to my palate…

I am buried, but not in

a grave yard; my house is my coffin!

~Han Yu

Home…a place of refuge, sanctuary, a safe harbor for self, family, and friends. A shelter from “the storms of life” that silently promises time and space for the public selves to melt into the real self. A haven of collections…books, music, furniture, memories, shadows of time past, and possibilities of tomorrows. A retreat into the togetherness of dinner, holidays, and weekends.

wordpresshome

I chose motion blur photography for this assignment of “home” as it would offer me a way to illustrate the memories, dreams, and hopes that transform a house into a home.

 

 

 

100 days…75th day

Mother

I am always afraid of my mother,

ominous, threatening,

a pain in the depths of my consciousness.

100days62

My mother is like a shell,

so easily broken.

Yet the fact that I was born

bearing my mother’s shadow

cannot be changed.

100dayscsuflowers

She is like a cherished, bitter dream

my nerves cannot forget

even after I awake.

She prevents all freedom of movement.

If I move she quickly breaks,

and the splinters stab me.

                                                                                                         ~Nagase Kiyoko*

 

*cited:

Women Poets of Japan

Trans: K Rexroth & I Atsumi