minimalism

a single likeness…

“There was a single likeness, a small sketch that he kept inside a gold locket, …the locket disappeared to the rag-and-bone man. I do not know where the likeness went. It slipped through the cracks of time and went to where the lost things are.”

~K Morton, The Clockmaker’s Daughter, p. 65

Nikon D750 f/3.2 1/4000 40mm

passing by…

Nikon D750 f/3.2 1/4000s 40 mm

“There was no such thing as the right time, he explained. Time was an idea, it had no end and no beginning, it could not be seen or heard or smelled. It could be measured, sure enough, but no words had been found to explain precisely what it was.”

~K Morton, The Clockmaker’s Daughter, p. 66

remembrance of her…

“For remembrance of her I wanted to write about her,”… but I stopped short with the words, “Ink seems to have frozen up, I cannot write any more.” *

How shall I gather memories of my sister?

The stream of letters is congealed. 

No comfort may be found in icicles 

  ~The Sarashina Diary (Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan)

Nikon D750 f/4.5 1/400 58mm

*The continuous writing of the cursive Japanese characters is often compared to a meandering river. “Ink seems to have frozen up” means that her eyes are dim with tears, and no more she can write continuously and flowingly.

2018 photography review, february

Today, I like the word Wintering (the act of staying at a place throughout the winter) as it has an underlying message of being at…rest, peace. A seasonal nap time.

Nikon D750 f/7.1 1/500 50

During this time of year in which nature slumbers, there is an invitation to sit beside the fireplace and study the amazing images of Michael Kenna and Bruce Percy.

February has within it whispers of spring, It also–like November–is a time of heavy snow storms and cabin fever. Last year I set out on a “frame within a frame” photo assignment.

What gifts did February, 2018 bring you this year?

basho

You can learn about the pine only from the pine, or about the bamboo only from bamboo.  When you see an object, you must leave your subjective pre-occupation with yourself; otherwise you impose yourself on the object, and do not learn.  The object and yourself must become one, and from that feeling of oneness issues your poetry.  However well phrased it may be, if your feeling is not natural—if the object and our self are separate—then your poetry is not true poetry but merely your subjective counterfeit. ~ Basho