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What’s New? One or Two Haiku for You

Self-portrait sketch, ©Sukie Curtis, ink on paper

 

One or two haiku–
some days that’s all I can muster–
a moment compressed.

 

Man standing knee deep,
Fishing rod flashes sunlight–
Not one fish nibbles.

 

I often think I will try to write at least one haiku every day, but I’m not that good at those “one something a day” things, although I did once commit to a whole year of at least one small drawing a day, and it was a wonderful experience. I stuck with it for a full year.  And my drawing skills improved in the process! 

I was inspired in my one drawing a day by someone else’s daily blog of drawings and paintings–Elizabeth Perry’s woolgathering. She is still doing daily drawings, from what I can tell, but now on Instagram and Twitter. Elizabeth dates her drawings and includes a number, now well into the four thousands, to indicate how many consecutive daily drawings she has posted. That’s a lot of daily drawings in the midst of a very busy, creative life!

Most days a small drawing is part of my morning routine. I like the way drawing grounds me and quiets my mind. Even if I draw many of the same things over and over–my hand, my hand holding my mug of tea, an old ceramic mug on my desk full of pens and pencils and a wooden spoon.

I often think of haiku as being very like simple drawings–a way of closely observing a moment in time, a glimpsed view, a sensory experience. Perhaps I will pair an occasional drawing with an occasional haiku, and see what happens.

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View from Islesford, Maine painting

Painted last year after David and I enjoyed a long weekend in a beloved spot on Little Cranberry Island, Maine, this view is a slightly fanciful version of the real thing–looking from Islesford across the Eastern Way toward Mt. Desert Island and Acadia National Park. The rounded profiles of the Bubbles, perhaps slightly exaggerated (who […]

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Rowboat Song

Rowboat Song My song is for the rowboat hauled out for winter,  listing in a sea of leaves.  I love her lines,   the graceful beauty of her usefulness.  But even more  I love the way she carries the music   of my father, his summertime humming   and the ringing of brass oarlocks dangling […]

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Remembering My Father’s Slide Rule

My father was an engineer who died before the advent of pocket calculators, personal computers, and smart phones. Often when he came home from work, his slide rule was still nestled in the pocket of his white button-down shirt. I am embarrassed and even a bit ashamed to admit that I have never used a […]

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Meet Gould’s Pandora

Most of the shells that wash up on a nearby beach are species familiar to me from my childhood: mussels in shades of blue like Chinese porcelain, clams of various species (surf, razor, Quahogs, among others), slipper shells (a.k.a. boat shells), lots of periwinkles, and the very occasional whole moon snail. This year I have […]

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Remembering My Dad on his birthday

  Today is my father’s birthday–his 102nd to be precise.  My dad died a long time ago, thirty-eight years ago, when he was only 64 and I was only 25.  A few years ago I wrote a blog post about him that I am linking to below. And I hope to add some more posts […]

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Poem: An Old Poppy Bloom, and sketch

The old poppy bloom– now a whirling dancer’s skirt twirled up in mid-spin.  

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Poem: A Snowy Afternoon

The Snowy Afternoon That snowy afternoon a galaxy appeared on your dog’s black back while we talked. Stars took their places, planets, whole constellations gathered there, marvelous as a meteor shower, until with a few friendly, unthinking strokes I wiped the whole sky clean, and it began to fill again. It seemed the kind of […]

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