…We just find our selves here.
With our individual birth we just ‘wake up’ and discover ourselves in the midst of an extraordinary world of beauty and sorrow.
All around us we see exquisite and exquisitely subtle orders played out effortlessly. …it is all just here and we are just here to see it…*
a broad photo of angel-wing begonia blossoms placed with a coffee cup with a book making up the background.
various elements of each blossom interacting within as well as with the other blossoms
close up of an angel-wing begonia blossom
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The Mystery I’m Thankful for
in pale black ink—
My eye for me is a certain power of making contact with things, and not a screen on which they are projected… The other’s gaze transforms me into an object, and mine him, only if both of us withdraw into the core of our thinking nature [left hemisphere], if we both make ourselves into an inhuman gaze, if each of us feels his actions to be not taken up as understood, but observed as if they were an insect’s. This is what happens, for instance, when I fall under the eyes of a stranger. But even then the objectification of each by the other’s gaze is felt as unbearable only because it takes the place of a possible communication.
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*Haiku before Haiku
Trans: Steven D Carter
**The Master and his Emissary
the Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World
Watching as things arrange themselves in the changing light, the photographer with unobstructed vision sees them as they are. Appropriate images appear without struggle, moving with the flow of light like leaves in a stream, to be immediately reflected in a mind unclouded by preconceived ideas. ~Benjamin Hoff
“Mujo” refers to transience and is a central principle in Buddhist teaching: the world of appearances lack permanent substance, and all that one sees passes away as it comes, disappearing into nothingness. ~ Yoel Hoffman**
*Tap of Photography, Philippe L. Gross and S.I. Shapiro
**Japanese Death Poems, Joel Hoffman
leaf in infancy l
leaf in infancy ii
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*
On New Year’s Day
each thought a loneliness
as winter dusk descends ~Basho
Along my journey
through this transitory world,
new year’s housecleaning ~Basho
*cited in Issa’s The Year of My life. Trans: Nobuyuki Yuasa