Tea: Christmas.
Music: Big Country, "Where the Rose is Sown"
Time: Night.
My earache is back ... so this will be brief.
If you like good poetry, and illuminating and interesting comment thereon, go here.
That should hold you until tomorrow (at the very least), by which time my head -- or the leftmost opening on it -- is clear again.
Showing posts with label other people's cool blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label other people's cool blogs. Show all posts
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Cup XLIII: "Haiku!" "Gesundheit!"
Tea: Arctic Storm
Music: Guitarcraft Circle of Seattle, "Ikada Jima"
Time: Evening
Yet one more possibly significant development, as the days shorten and grow cooler: Haiku (the sensibility, not merely the form) seems to have re-entered my life.
It's a hesitant re-entry, one foot only halfway over the threshold. I get the feeling that if I move too quickly toward it, I'll scare it away.
It started in September, on the first day I sat in with the high school English class.
morning lessons;
crawling across my black boot,
a black cricket
And then, for weeks ... nothing. Not so much writer's block as insight block.
I used to get haiku moments much more regularly. Had a few of the results published here and there under the primary pen name, which was kind of cool, and took part in several online discussion groups on the topic.
Oh, and on the topic of 5/7/5 (syllables, that is): Used to write that way all the time. Still do sometimes. More often than not, I don't.
Then the moments ... well, went away. More likely, they were there and I just wasn't paying attention. But of late, I've tried to be more of the momentarian I used to try to be.
Last night, out of town and alone at dinner (except for the moments when my booth was co-occupied by the resident elf, who is six years old and likes Junie B. Jones and eats her dinner from her "funny bowl with a nose on it") , I began rereading "The Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa," edited by Robert Hass.
(And yes, the funny bowl does have a nose on it. "What are you eating?" I asked. "I don't know," she said. "I've never had it before.")
I skipped Basho, although I'll go back to him later. I spent most of the time on Buson, then got about halfway through Issa. Three different styles, each with much to recommend it. I leave it to you to find your own favorite(s).
Then, I read a haiku-infused post in Midnight Anchorage, which is a young blog (and already one of my favorites) filled with words both old and new. Synchronicity.
Maybe it was the reacquaintance with the classics. Maybe I'm just paying more attention. But on the way to a harp concert this evening, there it was:
thin autumn light;
how will the squirrel stay warm
with half a tail?
If nothing else, it's good practice in awareness. If something else ... well, I suppose that's not entirely up to me to define.
Tonight's story:
Lafcadio Hearn, "Yuki-Onna"
Music: Guitarcraft Circle of Seattle, "Ikada Jima"
Time: Evening
Yet one more possibly significant development, as the days shorten and grow cooler: Haiku (the sensibility, not merely the form) seems to have re-entered my life.
It's a hesitant re-entry, one foot only halfway over the threshold. I get the feeling that if I move too quickly toward it, I'll scare it away.
It started in September, on the first day I sat in with the high school English class.
morning lessons;
crawling across my black boot,
a black cricket
And then, for weeks ... nothing. Not so much writer's block as insight block.
I used to get haiku moments much more regularly. Had a few of the results published here and there under the primary pen name, which was kind of cool, and took part in several online discussion groups on the topic.
Oh, and on the topic of 5/7/5 (syllables, that is): Used to write that way all the time. Still do sometimes. More often than not, I don't.
Then the moments ... well, went away. More likely, they were there and I just wasn't paying attention. But of late, I've tried to be more of the momentarian I used to try to be.
Last night, out of town and alone at dinner (except for the moments when my booth was co-occupied by the resident elf, who is six years old and likes Junie B. Jones and eats her dinner from her "funny bowl with a nose on it") , I began rereading "The Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa," edited by Robert Hass.
(And yes, the funny bowl does have a nose on it. "What are you eating?" I asked. "I don't know," she said. "I've never had it before.")
I skipped Basho, although I'll go back to him later. I spent most of the time on Buson, then got about halfway through Issa. Three different styles, each with much to recommend it. I leave it to you to find your own favorite(s).
Then, I read a haiku-infused post in Midnight Anchorage, which is a young blog (and already one of my favorites) filled with words both old and new. Synchronicity.
Maybe it was the reacquaintance with the classics. Maybe I'm just paying more attention. But on the way to a harp concert this evening, there it was:
thin autumn light;
how will the squirrel stay warm
with half a tail?
If nothing else, it's good practice in awareness. If something else ... well, I suppose that's not entirely up to me to define.
Tonight's story:
Lafcadio Hearn, "Yuki-Onna"
Monday, October 8, 2007
Cup XXIII: The Green Man Turns Over a New Link
Tea: Green Sencha Overture
Music: Eddie Jobson and Zinc, "Turn it Over"
Time: Late evening
This blog, as you can see by now, is only rarely about tea. Most times, it's about music or mushrooms or mismatched socks, among a host of varied whatnots.
Tonight, it's about both. Well, sort of.
First, it's a plaint that I've never been able to find The Green Album, whence comes tonight's musical selection (located online from a link that no longer goes anywhere) on compact disc. I have it on vinyl, but the living room's cluttered enough that one more piece of stereo equipment would be noticed.
Check that. I have found the album on CD, but at the prohibitive cost of more money than I can justify spending on it. Oh, well. I have this song as an mp3, to tide me over, and two albums' worth of Jobson's progtastic keyboard and electric violin work with UK. That'll get me through, until such time as sufficient finances and aligned bright balls of gas put The Green Album back in my hands.
On to the tea. I was sent this link last night, and ... wow. Yeah, this blog is seriously about tea, and the places which sell and serve it. It's going to be a daily stop and a vicarious pleasure for me, I'm betting.
Tonight's story:
Alexander Harvey, "The Forbidden Floor"
Music: Eddie Jobson and Zinc, "Turn it Over"
Time: Late evening
This blog, as you can see by now, is only rarely about tea. Most times, it's about music or mushrooms or mismatched socks, among a host of varied whatnots.
Tonight, it's about both. Well, sort of.
First, it's a plaint that I've never been able to find The Green Album, whence comes tonight's musical selection (located online from a link that no longer goes anywhere) on compact disc. I have it on vinyl, but the living room's cluttered enough that one more piece of stereo equipment would be noticed.
Check that. I have found the album on CD, but at the prohibitive cost of more money than I can justify spending on it. Oh, well. I have this song as an mp3, to tide me over, and two albums' worth of Jobson's progtastic keyboard and electric violin work with UK. That'll get me through, until such time as sufficient finances and aligned bright balls of gas put The Green Album back in my hands.
On to the tea. I was sent this link last night, and ... wow. Yeah, this blog is seriously about tea, and the places which sell and serve it. It's going to be a daily stop and a vicarious pleasure for me, I'm betting.
Tonight's story:
Alexander Harvey, "The Forbidden Floor"
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