Tag Archive | landscape

green park red doors

There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that?
Ernest Hemingway (For Whom the Bell Tolls,1940)

cocooned in green light
I am nowhere but right here
dappled by these trees

Central Park right now is green, green, green.

Jade at dVerse asked us to choose one of the Hemingway quotes she provided and write a poem in response. I shortened the quote for my short response.

And because it’s Thursday, I’m including some firehouse doors from new and old neighborhoods. Firefighters are very much aware of the nowness of life.

Although I think you could make the case for doors in the Central Park photos as well…

Your can add your own doors and see many others at Thursday Doors.

June 2021

long green days
open like roses
like fresh dreams

fragrances whispered
into clear blue skies

That’s my hope for June anyway.

Memorial Day 2021

time passes
dust and bones haunting
echoed air

For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #193, and in memory of all those who fought and died in all of the world’s many wars. May we one day have no need to ask anyone for such a sacrifice.

cascade

falling
gravitating
sheer and continuous
sparkled currents rising
in reflection
flowing

A badger’s hexastitch for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday prompt, the photo by Trent McDonald, below.

Trent’s photo made me think of all of Sue Vincent’s photo prompts, and all the watercolor mandalas I painted in response to her images. Thanks, Trent, for the equally magical landscape.

This badger’s hexastitch has a very cinquain-like feel to me–not intentional, but I think it works.

Rock Garden

It’s Thursday, so I’ll start with the door. My daughters took me to the NY Botanical Garden for Mother’s Day last Sunday. One week late–it was sold out for actual Mother’s Day. We remembered the Rock Garden from a very cold autumn day when we visited a few years ago and this was the only warmish place.

There were still pockets of flowers to be seen, but the overall impression was very green. We’ve had a lot of rain.

Water is part of the landscape throughout the garden.

And, of course, rocks.

Irises were still blooming.

Every view was inviting.

I have many more photos–flowers, trees, art–but the only door in them was to the Rock Garden. I’ll save those for another post. I did not get any good photos of the many birds, though I tried. Robins everywhere, blue jays, sparrows, mourning doves, red-winged blackbirds, finches, a hawk, even a blue heron. And many bird calls I did not recognize.

And a visit to the Bronx! The farthest I’ve been in 18 months. It felt good.

Join Thursday Doors here: https://nofacilities.com/2021/05/20/dr-seuss-museum/

when skies tendril (May 2021)

It’s May! I haven’t done any artwork for a month, having used art from the archives for my April NaPoWriMo posts at kblog. So it felt good yesterday to ignore the moving boxes and pull out my watercolors and paint. I did two paintings, below–a landscape and some impressionistic flowers.

I then cut them into one inch strips and wove them together for my grid. I also did some further experiments, cutting some of the strips into one inch squares and arranging them in different ways. But that’s for another day with more time to think.

The moon visited me at dawn yesterday. It was dancing with the clouds. The Oracle managed to insert it into my May verse. Well we know how She feels about the moon.

wild winds grow full
of flowers
listen to Maysongs
birds seeding spring air
with gardens rooted deep
in the fertile paths
that follow the wandering moon

renderings

I re-
turn to the earth
reflected as shadow–
silhouette echoing
the places I
have been

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, in the Badger’s Hexastitch form for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday poet’s choice. I’ve decided to try a new syllabic form each month.

Happy to have Sue’s photos back as inspiration!

seasons

oceanic bells
remnants of autumn bending
landscapes into dreams

beneath winter’s frost
ancient stonesongs murmur
through rootpaths
following earthlight
from seed to spring

haiku and gogyohka from the Oracle

October 2020 (Harvest Moon)

autumn dance
condensed into light–
I become
gold tinged with tides,
rising and falling

I did a similar grid with circles a few years ago, but I’ve always wanted to give it another try.  As with the last one, I first painted a landscape (wishing I had my gouache, but done with watercolor), then cut it up, rearranged it, and added collage dots from my collage box.  Here’s the original landscape:

David Hockney-ish I think.  Not my usual style, and perhaps a bit brighter than I intended.  But I like the colors.

I’ve done a tanka for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday form challenge, which also works for Frank Tassone’s challenge of harvest moon. The paint oracle is totally responsible for turning my moon painting into a tree.

My new view of the full moon.  I have to catch it when it passes between the buildings.

Happy October!

on the verge

on the verge s

trees
remember who
we were when

I stand alone surrounded by distances, covered with a vast blue, green layered behind and below.  I have come to the precipice to find my place in the landscape.  I intended to bring beautiful words, to leave poetic gifts as tokens on the wind, to tie threads of song to the sky.

But I find nothing more is required of me than to be here, present, alive.

once
we belonged
to the earth

© 2020 Frank J. Tassone

For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday, a haibun inspired by the photo provided by Frank Tassone, above.

on the verge sky s

I’ve had this song on my mind for awhile.

on the verge earth s

also linked to earthweal open link weekend