As of late we've been admiring all things Japanese everywhere we turn. Take Hokusai's wave. Recently we saw this iconic image for the very first time in person. Despite the crowds clustered in the small gallery, we braved it. The print was diminutive for a work of this magnitude and, perhaps, better admired in solitude, yet it was a sight to behold. Sharp deliberate lines, still vibrant colors, and that odd mixture of two dimensional flatness with a hint of perspective.
By chance, I found myself reading about WabiSabi, Japanese aesthetic that accepts and embraces the beauty in transience and imperfection. The philosophy felt like a calming antidote to overwhelming consumption and hallow cheap props. All about delicate and understated, rather than grand and showy. I imagine it is about rough linen, weathered wood, slightly uneven pottery. I find myself longing to simplify and declutter.
During the morning commute an unlikely subject came up: haiku. Realizing gaps in our own knowledge we put Siri to work. There is an excellent lesson plan on haiku if you are supplementing your tots learning at home. The itty bitty poems, often with a seasonal reference, pack a surprising emotional punch, a depth of feeling boiled down to three lines. How does one choose the right words to convey complixity and observe humanity?
First autumn morning:
the mirror I stare into
shows my father's face.
~Kijo Murakami
Until next time!
~~~
By chance, I found myself reading about WabiSabi, Japanese aesthetic that accepts and embraces the beauty in transience and imperfection. The philosophy felt like a calming antidote to overwhelming consumption and hallow cheap props. All about delicate and understated, rather than grand and showy. I imagine it is about rough linen, weathered wood, slightly uneven pottery. I find myself longing to simplify and declutter.
~~~
During the morning commute an unlikely subject came up: haiku. Realizing gaps in our own knowledge we put Siri to work. There is an excellent lesson plan on haiku if you are supplementing your tots learning at home. The itty bitty poems, often with a seasonal reference, pack a surprising emotional punch, a depth of feeling boiled down to three lines. How does one choose the right words to convey complixity and observe humanity?
First autumn morning:
the mirror I stare into
shows my father's face.
~Kijo Murakami
~~~
Packing lunches, lets face it, is a bane one one's existence. No doubt Klatch tots will not be opening cute bento boxes to the envy of their tot friends. For now, I will stick with sticking notes into their lunch packs. Photo: Jason Miller in NYTimes |
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