I dropped my camera–again. This time it didn’t bounce back. Poor camera: I’ve clumsily swiped, fumbled, and plain old dropped it to the ground many times. I like to think it’s because I’m a victim of my own clumsiness, but maybe it’s because I’m just careless. This (fatal) time I was at the flower shop. I’d been photographing prom corsages and boutonnieres. Before visiting the little girls’ room, I tried to take the camera out of my back pocket and put it on a shelf, thinking there it would be safe. There it would run no risk of getting…um…dunked. See, I was trying to be responsible! But somewhere in the move from pocket to shelf, I faltered, the camera fell, and a tiny piece that holds in the battery went missing.
All that to say, I am diving into never-used photos I’ve saved over the last few months. Maybe I’ll even dip back into past years, who knows? Granted, 2011 really wasn’t that long ago, so let’s say here and now that, yes, year-old photos will probably show up. So for now, I’d like to share something that I’ve been hiding in the back of my mind: photos and “haiku” based on them. I say “haiku” because you know that 5-7-5 thing they taught us in creative writing class? It’s bunk. Japanese contains linguistic subtleties and rhythms that I don’t claim to understand, but in reading about haiku I have managed to grasp that our rigid syllable-counting interpretation of the art form is rough at best. Haiku are really more about the imagery. They’re about taking the reader from something recognizable physically–like fruit or a stream–to something recognizable metaphysically–like sadness or love.
After an intro like that I suppose I shouldn’t dare show you what I’ve written! It’s based mostly on the physical aspects. I went around this winter, just at that point where signs of spring are showing but it’s still very cold. I tried to really see the things I looked at, to appreciate the little details I often rush past. That’s what these clicks and jottings are about.
and umbilical stem:
this apple, birthed rosy and whole
winter’s ruffled waves
as far as the boundary
between water and ice