These are the edges of the woven piece from yesterday. Not exactly a grid because they are all different sizes but I may try doing a Kerfe style grid with even squares. There is something about this I like. I like how the colors work together and how it moves from the blues to the pinky oranges.
A few years ago I did a Sketchbook Project of haiku and grids based on Monet’s water lilies paintings. So when I saw the dVerse prompt for work based on impressionism, I decided to revisit my obsession with Monet’s work. The Magnetic Oracle was helpful in getting me started, and then I did one on my own.
I think I will be staying with this for a little while again too.
They end their flight
one by one–
crows at dusk
Shape-shifting in the gap,
the border of the map a light
of shadowing, not quite
prepared to reunite the tide
with ebb and flow implied
by intervals inside of time,
the pause between the line,
the missing paradigm unfilled,
the end of something. Stilled.
I’m a bit late with my February grid, but I thought it complemented Sue Vincent’s “Low Tide” prompt this week, so I did my own poem in response to both Buson and the photo (above).
Once again, I tried a new poetry form; this one is Vietnamese. It’s called Luc Bat, and you can read about it here.
–L. A. Davidson
Born in Montana, Laura Agnes Davidson (1917-2007) traveled and lived all over the world before settling in New York City in the 1960s, where she was introduced to haiku by a friend. As an active member of the Haiku Society of America, she both wrote and advocated for the poetic form she called “an art of evocation”. You can read more about the poet here and here, and read her own thoughts about haiku here.
Laura Davidson Tanna kindly gave me permission to use her mother’s haiku to begin 2017. May we all travel that beautiful highway of stars in the months to come.
haiku © L.A. Davidson from “The Shape of the Tree”
Gratitude to Plants, the sun-facing light-changing leaf
and fine root-hairs; standing still through wind
and rain; their dance is in the flowing spiral grain
in our minds so be it.
–Gary Snyder, “Prayer for the Great Family”
I pledge allegiance to the soil
of Turtle Island,
and to the beings who thereon dwell
under the sun
with joyful interpenetration for all.
–Gary Snyder, “For All”
“I try to hold both history and wilderness in mind, that my poems may be the true measure of things and stand against the unbalance and ignorance of our times.”
Two months have passed quickly. Nina put together our exhibit, and she did a great job. I have definitely missed the inspiration and support from everyone. Not sure how quickly I can return to normal routine; we’ll see what happens.
How cool the breeze:
the sky is filled with voices–
pine and cedar trees
Onitsura is one of the masters of haiku, a contemporary of Basho.
For the grid, I painted a landscape in gouache, cut it into squares and rearranged it, and added circles cut from magazine photos on top.
open the sky
sound and silence in brooding light
open the sky
windsong cloaked in turbulent cry
disappearing into false night
thundered echoes flashing black white
open the sky
I think August still has a few of these left.