Buena Vista, Colorado
Photo by Rich Feldman
Mystic Door
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Free Haiku Workshop
I’ve added this to accommodate a waiting list, and there are spaces left. Come join us!
Contemporary Haiku and Short Forms: How To Write Flash Poems and Reduce Stress!An online workshop with Miriam Sagan from 6 to 8 p.m. July 20
What: SFCC Library presents an online workshop: “Contemporary Haiku and Short Forms: How To Write Flash Poems and Reduce Stress!” led by Miriam Sagan. Learn about the Japanese traditions of haiku, and how haiku is written today in English. Also expect five-line poems (tanka) and humorous poems (senryu). Haiku can be written in a peaceful garden or on a mountain, but it can also be written while you’re stuck in traffic or with a cell phone.
Expect to do a lot of writing and have some finished tiny poems that you like. There will be a handout on international haiku resources. This is for poets, journal keepers, and anyone who wants to enter the moments of life. Haiku favors the beginner!
Santa Fe Community College has a haiku pathway in its main courtyard. Some of these local haiku will also be part of the inspiration for the workshop.
Space is limited. Send registration requests to: msagan1035@aol.com
Who: Miriam Sagan, a poet and author, will lead the workshop.
When: 6 to 8 p.m. July 20
Where: Online. Send registration requests to: msagan1035@aol.com.
Cost: Free. Space is limited.
Artist Stephanie Hill
Mosaic Furniture
Buena Vista, Colorado
But Is This A Haiku?
Somewhat under the weather, I took a nap and this came to me:
in darkness—
bird I thought
had flown
New Scrolls in the Fairy Houses
The Fairy Houses at Santa Fe Skies RV Park off Route 14 have been refreshed! We asked poet Bill Waters to respond to the site. (Thank you Bill for this beautiful interpretation of the project!).
There are three sculptures, based on Asian spirit houses, and created by Tim Brown out of recycled metal.
Mid-summer’s Eve!
dancing and drumming
beneath a mushroom moon
closer and closer
a faint buzz cuts the air —
pixie wings
gone dancing!
carried on a breeze
pixie-song
kicking back
after a long, long day . . .
sipping a brew in the cantina
party night!
spilling from the cantina
music and beer
filtering
into the cabin:
sunlight and birdsong
drowsy day . . .
a sweet afternoon sleep
in the cabin
from the cabin
the fragrance of coffee . . .
early morning
***
Come discover the Fairy Houses!
On the dog walking path, about midway, in Santa Fe Skies RV Park.
An outdoor treasure hunt with social distancing.
Find three sculptures—a cabin, a cantina, and a mushroom.
Carefully open the doors to find a scroll hidden inside, which tells the tales of the magical creatures who work and inhabit these abodes.
Read, enjoy, and return the scrolls so others can find them.
They will be lit up at night.
This especially for the Park guests, but is free and open to the public as well. Check out the mysterious little offerings of pebbles and coins that passers-by have been adding to the scene.
Artist Laura Ahola Young
https://lauraaholayoung.com/section/336116.html
How has your art practice been affected by the pandemic?
I am a natural introvert. The time alone to reflect on my work, read and gather information was tremendously useful. I almost thrived in the alone time. I also worried a ton- about friends, family and students. The political climate on top of the pandemic has caused many of us, including me, a certain level of anxiety and I believe that anxiety naturally became part of the work. My work is becoming more political because of the pandemic. As I am just starting a new series of works, I am thinking about the chemistry of particles in the air and breathing. I am uncertain how I am going to represent my response to the pandemic, I certainly think the act of breathing will be a topic of some new work. I have always been fascinated by how things spread, and how things can take over- from a virus to moss.
https://www.twirlproject.com/2-laura-ahola-young.html
Bubbe Report: I Have Not Lived In Vain
During the pandemic, when social life was at a low and I could zoom in nice earrings and pjs and no one was the wiser, I still got dressed up to hang out with G., the baby. She liked my earrings from the first, and as an infant turned towards bright colors.
She is now 2 years, 3 months. She is talking up a storm, more often than not hitting a full sentence.
And this weekend, it happened. I really was dressed up–wearing a new white tunic printed with big pale strawberries. And fruit earrings that don’t match on purpose. And apricot colored drawstring pants. Sure, I look like the Santa Fe old lady hippie I am, and the clothes are comfy enough to sleep in. But I was feeling good.
And G. said, very clearly, “Grandma, I like your dress.” About thirty years ago her mom had popped in while I was dressing and told me, “I like your shoes.”
Both times I have felt in complete harmony with my universe.
I Love This Idea That Signals If People want A Hug or Not
The Chesterfield Chamber of Commerce in Virginia has restarted its in-person business networking events. Handshakes, back slaps and close talkers are optional these days.
Instead, attendees at the group’s events are encouraged to select a new pandemic-era accessory: brightly colored wristbands or stickers that signal whether they want others to come physically close or stay the heck away.
A plastic display sign provides the code, modeled on traffic lights: Red means “no contact” with “no exceptions.” Yellow means “elbow only,” as in stick to the elbow bump, pal. As for green, the sign says: “Hugs welcome.”
Read the whole article at–
It would be fun to write a story with more of this, where bracelets could communicate many private preferences…
Poem by Rod Scott
Soft Rain Clouding Down
Soft rain clouding down between long pine trunks
slipping down, dripping down,
down into rivulets meandering around the
roots of blackjack oak, virginia pine, and silver maple.
A sudden slip and crash startles the sheltering birds
as a limb plummets to the ground,
a gigantic arrow fletched by fractal forces
flowing in the xylem.
Smaller streams join hands after diverging
around pliant mud, hard rocks and
rotten wood that carpet the
forest floor, the new flood plain.
Wandering streams unite into a force that
bulldozes limbs and stone,
flowing and flooding downhill on
the endless march to the sea.
I breathe in the humidity, rejoicing at the departure of
ragweed pollen and other allergens.
Stretching widely I stand and
announce to no one in particular,
“it is time for a nap”.
Copyright © 2013 Elmore Nimrod Scott, Jr.
