katsura nobuko

Wild geese —

between their cries, a slice

of silence ~ Katsura Nobuko (M Ueda, Far Beyond the Field)

Nikon D750 f/5.6 1/2500 s 170 mm 1800 ISO

Katsura Nobuko was born Niwa Nobuko in Osaka, Japan on November 1, 1914. When she was five, she almost died of acute pneumonia. After graduating from Ootemae Girls’ High School, she began writing haiku when the poems in ‘Kikan’ (The flagship) magazine impressed her with their nontraditional style. She subsequently met the magazine’s editor, Hino Soojoo, and became his protege. Her marriage in 1939 changed her family name to Katsura, but her husband died two years later.

Childless, Nobuko returned to her mother’s home. On March 13, 1945, the home caught fire as the American planes bombed Osaka. Unable to put out the fire she gathered her haiku manuscripts before fleeing barefooted. It is said that when she was reunited with her mother, her mother – weeping – said, “You are safe — that’s all I care.” The rescued manuscripts were later published in her first volume, ‘Gekkoo shoo (Beams of the moon 1949).

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soseki

Nikon D750 f/7.1 1/400s 85mm 140 ISO

Over the wintry

forest, winds howl in rage

with no leaves to blow ~Soseki Natsume

Natsume Soseki (夏目 漱石 in Japanese; February 9, 1867 – December 9, 1916) was the pen name of Natsume Kinnosuke (夏目金之助), one of the foremost Japanese novelists of the Meiji Era.  Soseki, along with Mori Ogai,  is considered one of the two greatest early modern Japanese writers… The alienation of modern humanity, the search for morality and the difficulty of communication were common themes throughout Soseki’s works. From 1984 until 2004, his portrait appeared on the front of the Japanese 1,000-yen note.

Natsume Kinnosuke was born on February 9, 1867, just one year and a half before the start of the Meiji Reformation, in Edo (modern-day Tokyo). His father, Naokatsu, was the hereditary chief of a small town in Edo. When Natsume was born, Naokatsu was fifty years old, his wife Chie was forty-one, and they had five sons and three daughters. Bearing a child late in life, in those days, was regarded as “the shame of woman.” Chie was ashamed to have a child at her advanced age and, as the last baby of many children, Natsume was placed in a foster home at either a second-hand store or a vegetable shop. Kinnosuke’s elder sister found that he was being kept in the shop until late at night (the shop was probably kept open until midnight), confined in a bamboo cage beside the merchandise. Unable to look on in silence any longer, she brought him home.

When Natsume Kinnosuke was one year old, his parents foisted him off again, this time on a former household servant, Shiobara Masanosuke, and his wife. Natsume began his life as an unwanted child. Although he was brought up indulgently until the age of nine, Shiobara Masanosuke and his wife eventually separated and Natsume was returned to his family home. He was welcomed by his mother, but his father regarded him as a nuisance. When he was fourteen, his mother died. The solitude and defiance that he exhibited later in life came not only from his character, but from the surroundings in which he grew up. After his return home, he was required to call his parents “grandparents.” …

cited: http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Natsume_Soseki

2018 photography review, october

October is my Memorial Day extended to 30 days. In truth this time of remembered grief and loss ebbs and flows throughout each day of each year. The intensity of these emotional tides are at the mercy of a lunar moon that has a cycle that begins to tug at my heart in September and slowly releases me in February. It is October, the high tide, the felt-sense zenith of grief.

The continuation of contemplative photography through October was a means to be with the world as it is…and not as I so wish it would be.

the path is hidden by Dharma,

invisible, yet…

memories of you lead me onward.

lens-artists challenge: seasonal

In the aging house,

crookedness of the door being straightened,

a spring-like winter day.

~Buson (Y Sawa & E Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)


Walking on, walking on,

things wondered about — springtime,

where has it gone on too?

~Buson (Y Sawa & E Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)

On the shortest path,

stepping through water to cross

in the summer rains.

~Buson (Y Sawa & E Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)

No trail to follow

where the teacher has wandered off —

the end of autumn

~Buson (Y Sawa & E Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)

and then… Vivaldi’s Four Seasons

An artistic journey through the seasons….a lens-artist’s challenge offered by Tina. 

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


pond reflections

mind stream–rippling

a tumble jumble babble

current–afterthoughts

pondreflectionsweb82418
light patterns…Nikon D750   f/4.5   1/400s  85mm   200 ISO

“…there is something more fundamental about the world that is brought into being by the right hemisphere, with its betweenness, its mode of knowing which involves reciprocation, a reverberative process, back and forth, compared with the linear, sequential, unidirectional method of building up a picture favored by the left hemisphere.” ~I McGilchrist, The Master and his Emissary

lens-artists photo challenge: small is beautiful

Fallen to the ground

like those words of old –

glowing leaves ~Inko

contemplative photography 4
Sony RX100 III   f/4  1/50s   17.9m   400 ISO

Amy (The World is a Book) invites us to share our interpretation of “small is beautiful.”  Inko’s words tells me how the small messengers of autumn’s soon arrival are beautiful gifts celebrated today as well as long, long ago.

lens artists photo challenge: fences

spring peace–

a mountain monk peeks

through a fence

~Issa (cited: http://www.haikuguy.com)

landscape

landscape 1

This week lens-artists invited us to share our favorite fence images.   While the images above are not my “favorite,” the sign did bring a smile.

I had to go back a number of “blog” years to find three of my favorite fences.