Akita International Haiku Network, 2024

Thrilled to be included in the Haiku Beyond Earth Series, with ten haiku, tanka, and haiga translated into Japanese by Hidenori Hiruta on September 28, 2024:

https://akitahaiku.com/2024/09/28/haiku-beyond-earth%e3%80%8c%e5%a4%a9%e4%b8%8a%e4%bf%b3%e5%8f%a5%e4%bc%9a%e3%80%8dhaiku-by-debbie-strange%e3%80%80/

skinny-dipping the moon snail's umbilicus

Runner-up
2022 British Haiku Society Awards


drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself

1st Place
2023 Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest


cattle roundup
a charred bean can
full of rain

1st Place (Joint)
2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest


marsh marigolds
dark waters patched
with light

Highly Commended
2023 New Zealand Poetry Society International Competition


at the moment
I became motherless
something
brushed against me
softer than a feather

1st Place
2022 British Haiku Society Awards

 
sunbeams sift
between the bones
of our barn
mucking out stalls
has never felt so holy
 
Runner-up

2023 British Haiku Society Awards
 
 
fireflies the synchronicity of it all
 
1st Place
2022 Irish Haiku Society International Competition
 
 
there was
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue
 
1st Place
2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
 
 
between the spokes
of your spinning wheel
a dusty web . . .
I never thought our lives
would so quickly unwind
 
1st Place
2019 British Haiku Society Awards
 
 
watching you
prepare a star fruit
just so
the small galaxies
of grace in your hands
 
Runner-up
2019 British Haiku Society Awards

Cafe Haiku: The Magazine of the Cafe Haiku Group (Mumbai, Thane, Hyderabad and Chennai), 2024

A Decade of Joy – Retrospective by Debbie Strange

To celebrate my ten years of publishing (after a lifetime of writing!), Rohini Gupta kindly invited me to share a haiga retrospective of my journey along the haiku path. For this initiative, I’ve created ten new haiga incorporating images from my abstract photography exhibition, The Poetry of Light. Though the subjects of these photographs are ordinary (fabric, jewellery, glass), they are transformed into dreamscapes by employing diffusion and shallow depth-of-field techniques. These blurred pictures represent my ongoing struggles with vision, and they have not been digitally manipulated. They also showcase the use of colour therapy in my daily art practice, which increases endorphin production, helping to mitigate the effects of chronic illness. The artworks fall into the non-representational tangential haiga category. For further information on the six recognized categories of haiga, please see: https://www.gendaihaiku.com/kacian/haiga.html

I extend my thanks to the Café Haiku team for this lovely opportunity to share my work!

 2014

 

on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
 
3^rd Place, 2^nd Annual “aha” Awards, 2014
 
This is one of my earliest published haiku, so it holds a special place in my heart. We have two ecotypes of woodland caribou in Manitoba, and the boreal woodland caribou is a threatened species.

2015

 

stone cairns
a faded cap drifts
downriver
 
1^st Place, Harold G. Henderson Awards, 2015
 
On one of our adventures in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, we discovered many cairns along the Athabasca River, with notes imploring hikers and canoeists to be on the lookout for a young man who had slipped over the waterfall and perished.

2016

 

fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
 
Grand Prize, World Haiku Competition, 2016
 
I used to have a huge perennial flower garden, and keeping rabbits at bay could be a chore. When I discovered a nest of five baby cottontails in the leaf mulch under my rose bushes, I could hardly be angry at their mother!

2017

 

glassy lake
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon
 
1^st Place, Autumn Moon Haiku Contest, 2017
 
This sketch-from-life haiku evokes fond memories. We were camped beside a lake in mid-autumn. A huge harvest moon was on the rise, accompanied by the soft calls of snow geese overhead. Their loose skeins gave the appearance of reins, pulling the moon out of the water.

2018

 
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
 
1^st Place, Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest, 2018
 
“Rival” is a special Percheron draft horse in my life, whose charcoal gray coat is spattered with white stars. He is powerful, yet gentle, and when he snuffles his warm breath against me, I feel at peace with the world.

 

2019

 
alpenglow
a pika gathers stems
of light
 
Commended, Little Iris Haiku Contest, 2019
 
We’ve only had the good fortune of seeing a wild pika once, but what an experience it was! The light was turning the mountains to rose-gold, when we heard a squeak coming from behind some rocks. A little “rock rabbit” appeared, with a mouth full of backlit plant stems to add to its “haystack” of food.

2020

 
prairie town
rusted rails lead us
into sunrise
 
Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit, Volume 30, Number 2, 2020
 
As anyone who has lived in a small prairie town will tell you, walking on the rails is almost a rite of passage! There is something compelling about the way they beckon you into the distance, sparking imagination as to what might be ahead.

2021

 
fireflies the synchronicity of it all
 
1^st Place, Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition, 2021
 
Whilst lingering around our campfire, mesmerized by bright sparks illuminating the dark night, we noticed that not all of them were born of the flames. It was a wonderful experience to feel part of something so magical.

2022

 
skinny-dipping the moon snail’s umbilicus
 
Runner-up, The David Cobb Haiku Award, 2022
 
Summers spent at the cottage with my sisters were happy times filled with love and laughter. One night while my mother kept watch, we girls frolicked in the moonlit water, naked as mermaids. We had to beat a hasty retreat, though, when we saw the lanterns of night fishermen winking at us!

2023

 
drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself
 
Winner, Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest, 2023
 
One of my favourite things to do when we are beachcombing is to write words and poems in the sand. I decorate them with leaves, feathers, stones, and shells, hoping that someone will find these little offerings before the tide rises.

  

The Haiku Foundation - Haiku for Parkinson's, September 2024

My thanks to Stella Pierides for inviting me to participate in this wonderful initiative!

My article, "Haiga for Healing", explores the relationship between colour in my artwork, and its impact on my chronic illnesses:

https://thehaikufoundation.org/haiku-for-parkinsons-haiga-for-healing-debbie-strange/

The transcript of this essay can also be viewed under the "Articles/About" tab of this blog.

The Haiku Foundation: Haiku for Parkinson's Feature

Curated by Stella Pierides

September 2024

Haiku for Parkinson’s is a feature of The Haiku Foundation (THF): introducing haiku to those of us living with Parkinson’s Disease (PD), as well as introducing PD to those ‘living with haiku.’ You will find previous posts from this series here.

In August, we ventured beyond the Parkinson’s Disease landscape to explore the benefits of haiku for ailments of the heart. September takes us to a cluster of conditions that may benefit from applying haiku in its iteration in Haiga, the form that marries haiku with image.

Debbie Strange writes:

Haiga for Healing

Though I do not live with Parkinson’s, I have been diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, severe Fibromyalgia, and Essential Tremor, which share some of the same characteristics. When it became apparent that the efficacy of traditional pain management pharmaceuticals was negligible, I knew I had to concentrate my efforts on finding another method to help mitigate the debilitating effects of chronic illness. As many fellow sufferers will attest, we are generally open to alternative pain management methods to help reduce our reliance on medication. We often feel as though we have lost control of our lives. In my opinion, it is worthwhile to take whatever small steps we can to regain some power over the fight-or-flight response to trauma. My daily creative practice is a direct result of that challenge, and it has become both a healing and a meditative force in my life. I spend about five hours a day writing and making art, and this dedicated time continues to help me cope with symptoms and flares.

Over the years, I gradually noticed a visceral relationship between pain levels and the colours I used in my art. I became fascinated by the ancient Egyptian theory of colour psychology in which the effects of colours on mood were studied and applied holistically. One of the treatments was to shine light through coloured crystals, allowing it to enter the body. This method was believed to heal ailments, and it was adopted by many other cultures. Nowadays, this might be considered pseudo-science, but the underlying concept is central to the ongoing exploration of my emotional and physical reactions to certain colour combinations in my paintings and photography.

Carl Jung developed art therapies to help people deal with trauma, stating that “colours are the mother tongue of the subconscious.”

After some experimentation with the effects of colour on my mood, I began to gravitate less to black-and-white photography and stark ink sketches, in favour of more vibrant work. I found that the use of colour helps to stimulate my brain’s production of endorphins, which are useful hormones in combatting stress and pain. On bad days, I tended to paint in somber colours, and write dark poems, whereas on good days, the opposite was true. Now, I deliberately choose to use colours in direct contradiction to what the mind-body connection is telling me. Injecting colour into my life often helps to elevate mood and de-escalate pain, contributing to an enhanced overall sense of well-being. Of course, what works for one person may not work for another. Though this “therapy” does not always produce a positive outcome for me, any scintilla of relief is gratefully received!

The following comparison uses the illustrative haiga technique to explore this article’s theme. You might experience a different reaction to each image.

 

 (The colourful version was awarded Editor’s Choice in Haiga in Focus #73, July 2024)

One of the most enjoyable and calming aspects of my artistic practice is the daily creation of haiga based on original photographs and artworks. Pain becomes secondary to pleasure while I am engrossed in the process. I have created and shared thousands of haiga via journal publications, The Haiku Foundation Haiga Galleries, and my blog archive. I use illustrative, interpretive, and associative techniques in a variety of mediums, such as watercolours, inks, acrylics, and collage. The possibilities are endless, and I am excited every day to immerse myself in the process. Making haiga seems to soothe my body into becoming less a vessel for pain and more a receptacle for imagination, hope, and joy! At the end of a haiga-making day, I am exhausted but also exhilarated. It is especially rewarding when a reader comments that my work has resonated with them on some level.

At the beginning of the Covid pandemic, I invited 50 emerging and established short-form poets to collaborate on a haiga project for healing. They contributed poems, and I created accompanying haiga. Sharing this creative process was one of the highlights of my haiga-making life, and I am grateful to all those who so generously provided their words.

I encourage everyone, healthy or infirm, to try their hand at this venerable craft. You don’t need to start with anything more complicated than a few words, a simple line sketch, a splash of paint, a bit of torn paper, or a photograph, and you are well along your way!

This quote by Vincent Van Gogh speaks to the artist, poet, and musician in me: "I don't know if you'll understand that one can speak poetry just by arranging colours well, just as one can say comforting things in music."

Please note: This article should in no way be taken as medical advice. It simply documents my own experience with the relationship between colour and pain.

The Haiku Foundation Haiga Galleries, September 2024

My thanks to Jim Kacian for presenting my third Haiga Gallery for The Haiku Foundation!

The following artwork incorporates 40 award-winning haiku and tanka:

#1

blue nemophila

I still miss the little things

about my sister

1st Place

2020 9th Akita International Haiku Contest

#2

busker's hat

a child offers coins

of dried lunaria

1st Place

2022 Bloodroot Haiku Award

#3

canyonlands

a meadowlark sings

me out of myself

1st Place

2022 Drifting Sands Monuments Number 1 Contest

#4

cattle roundup

a charred bean can

full of rain

1st Place (joint)

2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest

#5

drifting sands

sometimes the poem

writes itself

1st Place

2023 Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest

#6

fireflies the synchronicity of it all

1st Place

2022 Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition

#7

geriatric ward

burning matchheads

begin to droop

Highly Commended

2023 Gloucestershire Poetry Society Haiku Competition

#8

heated debate

even the fence

is barbed

1st Place

2022 Creatrix Haiku Prize

#9

marsh marigolds

dark waters patched

with light

Highly Commended

2023 New Zealand Poetry Society International Haiku Competition

#10

skinny-dipping the moon snail's umbilicus

Runner-up

2022 British Haiku Society Awards

#11

vintage typewriter

the spiderling adds

an asterisk

Judges' Favourites

2023 Golden Triangle Haiku Contest

#12

stubbled fields

the remains of something

I cannot name

Editor's Choice

Haiga in Focus, Number 52, August 2022

#13

soft rime

a chickadee's song

becomes visible

Honourable Mention

2019 Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition

#14

rusted gate

old lilacs blooming

for no one

Selected Haiku

2015 Yamadera Basho Haiku Contest

#15

pine forst

the advice I'd give

my younger self

Honourable Mention

2020 Soka Matsubara International Haiku Contest

#16

outdoor wedding

an unexpected flurry

of cabbage whites

Haiku Laureate Award

2021 Hexapod Haiku Contest

#17

lily pad rafts

dotting the pond . . .

leopard frogs

Zatsuei Haiku of Merit

2021 World Haiku Review

#18

forgotten grave

only the small bones

of leaves remain

Commended

2020 Polish International Haiku Competition

#19

first school day

the coiling tendrils

of loofah

Honourable Mention

2023 International Haiku Contest on the Theme of Gourds

#20

cold war

the fallen rank and file

of sunflowers

Selected Haiku

2022 Yamadera Basho Haiku Contest

#21

watching you

prepare a star fruit

just so

the small galaxies

of grace in your hands

Runner-up

2019 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards

#22

tussocks

soften the bog's edge

my thoughts

lost in this tangle

of lemming runways

3rd Place

2023 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition

#23

there was

so much I wanted

to teach you . . .

a blue jay's feathers

are not really blue

1st Place

2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka

#24

sunbeams sift

between the bones

of our barn

mucking out stalls

has never felt so holy

Runner-up

2023 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards

#25

dried cattails

delicately spun with frost

confections

sweeting the bitterness

of winter without you

2nd Place

2022 Fleeting Words Tanka Contest

#26

between the spokes

of your spinning wheel

a dusty web . . .

I never thought our lives

would so quickly unwind

1st Place

2019 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards

#27

awaiting

rain's unkept promise

crops wither

in the dust of dreams

passed down to me

1st Place

2022 Drifting Sands Monuments Number 1 Contest

#28

at the moment

I became motherless

something

brushed against me

softer than a feather

1st Place

2022 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards

#29

a raven

believed it could fly

through me

unaware that I am glass,

pretending to be sky

3rd Place

2020 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka

#30

a fleet

of trumpeter swans

at anchor

on the smoke-veiled lake

every bird, a beacon

Highly Commended

2020 The Burning Issue Tanka Contest

#31

pipistrelles

emerge from our barn

into dusk . . .

how short the wingspan

of this perfect moment

Honourable Mention

2020 Mandy's Pages Annual Tanka Contest

#32

as if I were

this ash-filled burl,

black veins

of decay winding through

my body like a river

Commended

2020 The Burning Issue Tanka Contest

#33

let's drive

down this prairie road,

singing until

we collide head-on

with the Milky Way

Honourable Mention

2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka

#34

lost gloves sprout

from melting snowbanks

every finger

points me toward

a place I'd rather be

Honourable Mention

2021 Fleeting Words Tanka Contest

#35

my easel stands

neglected in the corner

still flecked

with bright colours of a world

I no longer recognize

Commended

2020 The Burning Issue Tanka Contest

#36

autumn arrives

in a whirl of leaves

this body

withering, too, despite

my best intentions

2nd Honourable Mention

2022 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka

#37

by and by

I promise to tell you

everything

but for now, let us listen . . .

nature is speaking

Editor's Choice

Cattails, October 2020

#38

leaving home

for the first time

my carpetbag

filled to bursting

with butterflies

Tanka Favourites (selected by Joanna Ashwell)

GUSTS, Number 35, Spring/Summer 2022

#39

sea pebbles

glinting in the sun

we, too

lose more of ourselves

with every passing wave

Honourable Mention

2020 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards

#40

skeins of wool

unravel at my feet

in the last light

a swirl of snow geese

begins to descend

Honourable Mention

2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka