Shashin no uta – 写真 の 歌 – Photographic Song

(This was a page from the top of my blog which I think no one has ever read.  So I thought I’d turn it into a post.)

I wrote a  Shashin no Uta back in September of 2014 thanks to an idea on a blog called Ronovan Writes: Wordless Haiku … later thanks to a blogger I once knew Jen Rosenberry the Wordless Haiku became  Photoku.  After a while she took over the prompts for the “photoku” finally deciding to discontinue for lack of time … but she did suggest to me this lovely name in Japanese: Shashin no Uta   写真 の 歌 – Photographic song.

What I’m posting are photoku  in the order of when they were published.

I wanted to see how the genre evolved from chaotic collage I was trying to work with as though it were a rebus – so practically a picture for a word then I decided to work towards pictures for each phrase until at last I worked out that the best way, for me of course, was to use one photo for each line … and then the photoku really  began to become a “photographic song” indeed (it’s interesting to note that I actually did a full circle …my first “photoku” indeed were composed of just three photos … one for each phrase in a haiku!).

A Stink Bug – September 15, 2014

autumn vineyards
among wild Passiflora
a stink bug

(c) G.s.k. ’14

Autumn Reflections – September 21, 2014

new harvest
warm dreamy reflections
– new snow

(c) G.s.k. ’14

Indian Summer Walk – September 28, 2014

Indian summer
under ancient shadows
– bees

G.s.k. ’14

Roses Bloom – October 5, 2014

last blooms
near the ancient house
old cat

G.s.k. ’14

Time – October 12, 2014

fallow times
darkness deepens
poverty’s harvest

G.s.k. ’14

Childhood Memories – October 19, 2014

persimmons
leaves and wild flowers
childhood memories

G.s.k. ’14

The Tournement – October 26, 2014

the tournament
red feathered knight
ballads sung
celebrating
memories of war

G.s.k. ’14

She Dreams – November 2, 2014

harvest memories
sticky candied fruit
shadows of childhood

G.s.k. ’14

The “Mille Miglia” – November 8, 2014

bridging history
the thousand mile auto race
hitchhiker’s dream

G.s.k. ’14

Bottles and lights – November 16, 2014

reflections
cosmic red lightening
abstract – blue bottles

G.s.k. ’14

Cold Wave  – November 23, 2014

last dead leaves
cold waves on Lake Garda
ah – snow comes

G.s.k. ’14

Sunshine Exodus – November 30, 2014

frosty days
late migration
snowbirds fly south

G.s.k. 14

 

Mountain Cabin –  December 14, 2014

mountain cabin
ice-fog at dawn
frosted trees

G.s.k. ‘14

VARIATION

moon in heavens
over the baita*
frosty morning

*cabin in Italian

© G.s.k. ‘14

Christmas Snow – December 21, 2014

Christmas
decorated trees
– light

G.s.k. ’14

Smiling in the Clouds  – January 4, 2014

clouds and rain
moon smiles brightly
a soaring bird

G.s.k. ‘15

dreams sailing free – January 18, 2015

embers of sunset
bridging the world
sailing free

G.s.k. ‘15

Variation

Ripples and Change – January 21, 2015

crack of dawn
ripples through infinity
times change

G.s.k. ‘15

Shadows and Patterns – January 25, 2015

shivering  patterns
shadows in darkened masks
a sinking leaf

near the cobbled path
patterns making dark omens
leaf shivering sinks

G.s.k. ‘15

Autumn Morning – January 29, 2015

observe
lantern on the post
old gull
G.s.k. ’15

Withered Moon – February 1, 2015

withered moon
morning dawns
ah – fishermen and ducks

© G.s.k. ‘15

A Dead Leaf On Stone – February 11, 2015

light lit snow
what peace
the way

G.s.k. ’15

Samara Ennui – Haibun – November 6, 2018

 

I’m writing, doing what I’ve always dreamt of doing, I’m enthusiastic, I feel revitalized.  People are reading my work, liking it and giving me great suggestions that help me better my work, I feel part of a community … and then I don’t.

Sure, I’d had some bad moments recently in my life, but I kept up my writing and my photography kept on going but at a certain point, for no apparent reason, I found I hadn’t turned on my computer for months.  What happened?  Why did I stop?

I’ve always been a pretty creative sort of person, although not a creative genius.  Since I can remember I’ve always passed hours enjoying my painting, drawing and writing.  I easily pick up skills, I’m a quick study as they say, so I had no problems learning how to sew, crochet, sculpt, cook or whatever else came my way including learning anatomy and acupuncture meridians and points.  But, and there’s a big but, since puberty, I periodically go into more or less long periods of ennui.

I slip into a sort of limbo, where nothing seems very important to me at all.  I pass hours (days at a time) reading or watching TV series.  I do get out of bed because I abhor an unmade bed. I eat whatever is at hand (usually nothing particularly healthy) just as long as it’s quick and fills me up.  I don’t live in chaos, my house though not spotlessly clean is fairly orderly, I make sure of that because I hate being in a messy dirty place.  I drift through life, doing the minimum necessary to get through the day. Fortunately, as I’ve grown older, self-preservation has guaranteed that I keep a life-line open to the outside world.  I do have a couple of friends with whom I never lose contact with completely.

Then one day, something changes … I take a look at myself and my life and a tiny spark glitters.  It may take weeks or months but I become constantly more dissatisfied with drifting.  I realize that I’ve become overweight, that I haven’t done much of anything interesting for a long time, that I’m bored with my books and the TV.  I start looking into diets and exercise (just looking). I get the urge to write or sew myself a new outfit or paint a picture (just the urge).  I become frustrated and panicky. Then the looking around becomes watching what I eat and going for walks, joining a dance class and bicycling.  The urge becomes turning on the computer, looking through models for a new outfit, and choosing a great piece of material.  Usually at this point  my life has started to move again.

I don’t really know why this happens to me.  I’ve gone through analysis, I’ve meditated, I’ve had great mentors throughout my life who’ve stimulated me giving my life a sense of meaning … for a while anyway.  But eventually, there it is, the chasm of ennui into which I slip (not fall) and the cycle begins again. The drifting isn’t painful and I don’t even feel bored.  It’s when I move on, when I become aware that maybe there can be more to my life than books and TV,  the awakening, which is the painful part, fraught with anxiety and impatience to move on.

Have you or anyone you’ve known gone through this sort of thing?  I’d like to read about it, so please leave comments below and let me know.

winter snowflakes
passion gives way to
spring dawn
a never-ending cycle
my Samsara ennui

 

 

Morning Haiku and Waka – July 16, 2016

passing reflection
as the sun rises at dawn
a last adieu

© Gsk ’16

Carpe Diem Special – Mandarin Duck by Buson – July 14

For today’s Carpe Diem Special a haiku by Yosa Buson:

mandarin duck –
rain falls silently
from an oak

© Yosa Buson (1716-1783)

Mallards on Lake Mattis – Champagne, Illinois

mallard ducks –
splashing water drops
in the grass

Gsk ’16

Silent Sunday – July 3, 2016

A Single Dandelion – Free Verse (Wordeling) – June 30, 2015

 

a single dandelion
stood in that empty spot
next to an ancient
wooden spool
swaying

The Public Fountain – Kyrielle – April 29, 2016

drops of water in this fountain
blow in the wind now forgotten
no one can hear them any more
and none can see the river roar

days and nights pass, tumbling by
(even the fountain will grow dry)
all some day will pass through that door
where none can see the river roar

human endeavours, often fine
fall to decay as they decline
then war blossoms from hates of yore
’cause none can see the river roar

neglected fountain by the road
once a marvel – fresh water flowed
quenching the thirst of rich and poor
but now, none see the river roar

© G.s.k. ‘16

“It seems to me what is called for is an exquisite balance between two conflicting needs: the most skeptical scrutiny of all hypotheses that are served up to us and at the same time a great openness to new ideas. ” 

― Carl Sagan

Openness is an overarching concept or philosophy that is characterized by an emphasis on transparency and free, unrestricted access to knowledge and information, as well as collaborative or cooperative management and decision-making rather than a central authority. Openness can be said to be the opposite of secrecy.

Poets United – Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Open / Openness

NaPoWriMo – Badriomaku – April 8, 2016

In Passing

feelings
receding facts
lost old horizons
death
removed the fever
of my feelings
now I am – numb.

© G.s.k. ‘16

Six months have passed since my husband died in a fatal accident.  The strange thing about sudden death is that it leaves you feeling that everything is some sort of joke.  That you’ll turn around and your loved one will be there giggling at you for having been so silly to fall for it.  Only that never happens.

Life continues in its everyday normalcy leaving things hanging like a broken spider web floating in the wind.  Unresolved problems, unresolved actions.  Sometimes out of the blue one of those problems will pop out … and you fall into a memory hole.  Like today, when the new furnace went on the blink again.  Ciao, Bastet.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

Words:  feelings, facts, receding, horizon, fever, numb

With a syllable count of 2-3-5-1-5-4-5, the Hungarian Badriomaku is interesting in that it gives you a structure that doesn’t fit any preconceived ideas.

I was introduced to this form by Graeme. Thanks, Graeme!

1sojournal – NaPoWriMo: Day 7

 

It’s All How You Look At It – Flash Fiction – March 20, 2016

Copyright Al Forbes

 

“How interesting is this!”  Marcus gushed as they drove up Susan’s drive way in the country that Sunday morning.

“What are you going on about Marcus?” she said slightly irritated, dawn’s early light was not her favourite light of the day.

“Don’t tell me that you don’t see it!  There!” he pointed at the old blue painted door with its pealing centre … “a city, reflected in a bay!  It could be the sky-line of New York or Sydney – I’ll just have to draw in something characteristic to fix the location!”  he said as he clicked off several shots of the door once the car had stopped.

He then ran to the boot of the car where he kept his emergency box of paint supplies he always travelled with.  He insisted one never knew when inspiration might strike … and as a auto-defined conceptualist graffiti artist he wanted to be prepared.

© G.s.k. ‘16

Sunday Photo Fiction – March 20th 2016

 

Sweetness – Haiku – February 2, 2016

fresh fruit
sweetness lingers in the air
autumn harvest

freezing morning
warm smells from the kitchen
hot chocolate

[ah – warm toast]
fresh smell of sweet cinnamon
childhood thoughts

baking
the house fills with cookie smells
snow storm howls

© G.s.k. ‘16

Carpe Diem #909 Sweetness