“As the ink flows onto the page,
each word creating and tumbling into another,
she wonders aloud to no one in particular,
‘are these sleeping memories
left in the shadows of grief …
writing on and on
this tale and that …
moving my pen across the page ...
as if a bridge to yesterday?'”
“The morning chill came through an open window. The morning had begun its transformation from black to variations of dark blues to lighter hues outlining night’s black shadows. It had just passed…the morning ritual. The magical moment of silence in which all of the world – right before the sun’s rays lightens the sky – seems to hush in stillness.
Then in the distance one songbird followed by another as if a congregation’s ‘Amen.’
My mother came to visit. I may have called her as I, with a cup of steaming tea, looked up at the antique framed cross stitch hanging on the dining room wall.
It was during one of those rare visits to her home in which she shared a beautiful piece of counted cross stitch. I saw the delight in her face as she told me it was a gift…a gift of gratitude to someone unknown to me…a stranger. Aged jealously rose unbidden and formed a barrier between mother and daughter.
Within that moment, forgotten…a white tablecloth, each corner embroidered…a crocheted lap blanket…a crocheted dolly sewed onto a pillow cover…applique images within a child’s alphabet book.
And then. ‘Would you like me to make you one?’
‘Yes! Oh yes! Please let me frame it.’
Within an antique framed cross stitch…a magical moment. An exchange of love and validation
Excerpt from, bc kofford, “My Mother Came to Visit”
The traveler goes on,
His sleeves blowing back and forth
With the autumn wind,
And the evening sun sheds lonely light
Upon the bridge suspended between the cliffs.
–Miner, Introduction to Japanese Court Poetry, 115
I understand
a dew drop fades
today at dawn
image submitted for Cee’s (fotd) flower of the day challenge
the night I understood
this is a world of dew
I woke up from my sleep ~Retsuzan
Fujifilm XT4 … f4 1/250s 79mm 1600 ISO
Point of view photography
“Point of view” in photography simply means the position from which the camera’s eye sees the scene. Is the camera looking down on the subject? Looking up, sideways, or straight on.
How close is your camera to the subject? Is there anything between you and the subject? Is the source of light in front, to the side, or from the back? Every decision you make about point of view has the potential to introduce an unique visual experience to the viewer.
into a cold night
I spoke aloud
but the voice was
no voice I knew.
~ Otsuji
Image submitted in response to Cee’s flower of the day (FOTD) challenge.
Color of the flower
Has already faded away,
While in idle thoughts
My life passes vainly by,
As I watch the long rains fall. ~ Ono no Komachi
Image submitted in response to Cee’s flower of the day (FOTD) challenge.
“… ‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’
‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’
‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.
‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’
‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’
‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’
The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.” ~The Velveteen Rabbit, M. Williams
Images and quote The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams submitted in response to Becky’s (The Life of B) walking squares.
summer will soon
wander
between wild flowers
in our next lives
let’s meet as butterflies
afield
Images submitted in response to Becky’s (The Life of B) walking squares.
I cast the brush aside
from here on I’ll speak to the moon
face to face ~Koha
Nikon D750 …f/5.6 1/500s 85mm 800 ISO i
Image submitted in response to Cee’s flower of the day (FOTD) challenge
“It’s because I’m depressed.”
‘About what?”
“The rain. It’ll stop soon.”
“When you’re depressed, it rains?”
“Yes.”
“Then when there’s a typhoon, how depressed are you?”
“That’s not me, … the earth’s depressed.” ~Guardian: The Lonely and Great God
Sony RX-1003 … f/4 1/640s 70mm 80 ISO
a meditative journey 
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