Warp and Weft ~ Images and Words

Saturday, September 28, 2024

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:

blue nemophila

I still miss the little things

about my sister

1st Place

2020 9th Akita International Haiku Contest

busker's hat

a child offers coins

of dried lunaria

1st Place

2022 Bloodroot Haiku Award

canyonlands

a meadowlark sings

me out of myself

1st Place

2022 Drifting Sands Monuments Number 1 Contest

cattle roundup

a charred bean can

full of rain

1st Place (joint)

2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest

drifting sands

sometimes the poem

writes itself

1st Place

2023 Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest

fireflies the synchronicity of it all

1st Place

2022 Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition

geriatric ward

burning matchheads

begin to droop

Highly Commended

2023 Gloucestershire Poetry Society Haiku Competition

heated debate

even the fence

is barbed

1st Place

2022 Creatrix Haiku Prize

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 forest

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

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.

One Thread: Zoka in Contemporary Haiku, 2024

My thanks to the editor, Janice Doppler, for giving permission for me to archive my featured essay (including my haiku illustrating the zoka technique) on this blog. It was an honour to be selected for inclusion in this groundbreaking anthology! This essay can also be accessed via the "Articles/About" tab of this blog.

Chasing Chiaroscuro
by Debbie Strange

One of the most intriguing aspects of zoka is its focus on being attentive to the changing seasons, with their shifting nuances of light and shadow. The portfolio of Ansel Adams, a master of chiaroscuro (light-dark) techniques in photography, has been a constant source of stimulation and contemplation throughout five decades of adventures with my camera. I am forever in pursuit of the perfect balance in the images I make. In my daily haiga practice, I might choose watercolours, inks, or acrylics to paint a scene, or I might decide that a photograph (painting with light) would best convey the message of my haiku.

Capturing light and shadow in photographs can be challenging, in the same way that pinning down the essence of zoka can be elusive. I was a photographer long before I was a haiku poet, and I’m grateful that this early passion taught me to look beyond the ordinary.

My photographs often act as prompts for zoka-inspired writing, or tangible haiku moments. They allow me to study transient lighting conditions, seasonal attributes, and impermanent subject matter, and to reconnect with my observations and appreciation of this natural world. A wide angle lens helps to portray the vastness of the night sky (zooming out), whilst a macro lens narrows the field of view down to the tiniest fungi (zooming in).

I appreciate the following quote from Neil DeGrasse Tyson, which impresses me as being quite zoka-like: “If you see the universe as something you participate in—as this great unfolding of a cosmic story—that, I think should make you feel large, not small.”

Though chronic illness and deteriorating vision now restrict my photography opportunities, writing haiku has no such limitations! I have thousands of photographs and dozens of nature journals from which to draw inspiration. I need only sit quietly for a moment, and I am there, still chasing light, shadows, and the possibility of a poem.

morning worship
a tuft of moss inside
the icicle

Blithe Spirit, Volume 34, Number 1, February 2024

snowmelt
clumps of deer hair
snag the light

Modern Haiku, Volume 52, Number 3, Autumn 2021

dripping trees
I wait for the right path
to choose me

First Frost, Number 3, Spring 2022

solar flares
a spill of buttercups
in the meadow

Acorn, Number 35, Fall 2015

krill migration
humpback whales
scoop up the stars

The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXIV, Number 4, December 2022

alpine camp
meteors falling
into our mouths

Modern Haiku, Volume 55, Number 1, Winter-Spring 2024

leaf decay
deep shadows lit
by ladybugs

Modern Haiku, Volume 50, Number 1, Winter-Spring 2019

chanterelles
dirt makes a map
of my palm

Australian Haiku Society, Winter Solstice Haiku String, 2021

peat fire
the scent markings
of other worlds

Frogpond, Volume 46, Number 3, Autumn 2023

icefall
the water still
asleep

Scarlet Dragonfly Journal, Number 9, December 2022

frozen berries
we enter the silence
of hibernation

Presence, Number 69, March 2021

polar night
a snowy owl fades
to black

Kokako, Number 28, April 2018

Debbie Strange (Canada)

I spent my childhood on the prairies, and I have been composing poetry and songs since I was a girl. My father wrote poetry and often recited the classics by heart, kindling a lifelong love of language in me. He was also instrumental in nurturing my passion for photography. We enjoyed wandering the Saskatchewan hills in search of that indefinable something on which to train our cameras and our senses. I see now that these outings were influential in helping to hone my observational skills.

A few haiku highlights: Random Blue Sparks, winner of the 2020 Snapshot Press Book Awards, is forthcoming in 2024. The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations (Sable Books, 2020) received Haiku Canada’s 2022 Marianne Bluger Chapbook Award. Prairie Interludes, winner of the 2019 Snapshot Press eChapbook Awards, was released in 2020.

The healing and meditative power of haiku helps connect me to the world, to others, and to myself.

The Poetry Pharmacy, September 2024

Thrilled to have the following work included in The Poetry Pharmacy's collection of Zen Garden "Pills" - Haiku & Harmony, Small Moments of Calm! Two hundred entries were received, and 26 poems were chosen. Besides the transparent capsules found in every glass bottle, the colours were chosen to echo koi carp, and the plants often found in Zen Gardens.

The Poetry Pharmacy was established in 2019 by Deborah Alma, who had been prescribing poetry from her Emergency Poet ambulance for almost a decade. It was founded on the idea that poetry can do so much to match or alter a mood, and assist in so many ways with good mental health. Their goal is to bring poetry into as many unexpected places as they can, and their bottles of poetry pills are a big part of that. Each one contains biodegradable capsules, filled with poetic quotes on a theme, formulated to address a plethora of emotional ailments. They're printed on environmentally friendly, banana paper, and handmade at their shop in Bishop's Castle, Shropshire.

- no bitter pills

- no adverse reactions

- not to be swallowed (except metaphorically)

My capsule contains the following haiku:

zen garden

dad moves one stone

out of place

Utriculi, Issue 1, Part 2, September 2024

Thrilled to have the following artworks selected for the inaugural issue:

Collage Series A: Logolepsy

(noun - an obsession with words)

Gumusservi

(noun - moonlight shining on water)

Selcouth

(adjective - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvellous)

Sweven

(noun - a vision seen in sleep; a dream)

Collage Series B: Bricolage

(noun - construction achieved by whatever comes to hand)

Collide and Shatter

More Than Ash

Bee Here Now: The Haiku Foundation Volunteer Anthology 2024

I'm honoured to be a content provider for The Haiku Foundation's HaikuLife Film Festival, Haiga Galleries, Haiku of the Day, New to Haiku, and Haiku for Parkinson's features (among others). I have also donated several artworks to the Gift Shop as tokens of my thanks!

dead orchard

the random blue sparks

of woolly aphids

3rd Place

2018 Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition