May your pages be filled with what makes your heart swing.
This year, for the first time I bound my daily planner, crafted it in just the way I wanted.
With uneven edges and unfinished stitches, even let the stamped numbers dance, too!
All for the purpose of gifting myself daily, with a reminder that in Creativity there is, inherent, inviolable freedom.
The journal is photographed with dried spider lily blossoms from 2 autumns ago, with overlaid images of the ocean photographed during the first few days of this year.
About a month ago the year turned. While it was turning I rushed to a close by temple for the once-a-year opportunity to hit a big bronze bell they got there with a rather large log positioned to swing horizontally.
The bell is there year-round but I waited a whole year, for I feel too polite to just walk up there any old time and hit it as I like, the booming resonance it produces.
I had an opportunity to talk with the head monk afterwards, a carefree random chat the first thing in the year. He shared with me what’s been taught to him;
to find “Hotoke” – by whom no words be voiced – listen to the water, the wind…
The footage’s of the sea lit with the first sunlight of the year, coupled with the booming bass from the aforementioned bell.
That is what brings everything together really, the boom of the bell, so do make sure to boost the lower frequency.
Photographed at dawn, and posted on Tumblr on April 16, 2014.
Then the beach had a path I could ride into even with my two wheel drive.
Talked a bit about it on this post: “Cocoon.”
Published here on March 12, 2021.
Summer dawn, what’s not to love. It’s here today, not to stay for long.
Up the hill, or down to the beach. Will drive empty streets. Watch the light sneak into the pre-dawn quiet.
I’m the sinister figure looking into your rice field, or up at the sky with my back facing the sun asleep right below the horizon.
What’s she doing out there, which planet is she from, she waiting for a ride back home, oh look, she’s talking, to her friends in the sky, or spirits of frogs ran over during the night…
In fact I’d be talking to myself, can I just not move for a moment or two, which ain’t audible to rural early risers, not until I laugh fairly loudly at my own sloth; I hate tripod.
All the images were shot in late June, 2013 – sometime around the solstice, by yours truly the staying upper, camera hand held.
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