tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74479678596008797812024-03-23T05:24:34.771-04:00Some Tomorrow's Morningwords and images to ponderDan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comBlogger289125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-6834271785839788942024-03-02T10:34:00.004-05:002024-03-12T14:16:11.263-04:00And the Name Is . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjak9ha2eZ4pW-mAiHXUtMFxWOL4x_yiprfn2UifcMc4W81RuuPDr81fhclRcqqgtJPKFY0ky9kkX3CPm4bJeAL5RBLpJj3V8T1V7tbAfKCpyv_ZJhlKIxov-4DReLKnQfHGmR7LIfXIJTXrIia5O_8MVEajq7i-DbDqo-0BynMVwjw5cMbkjuH9XKS5tw/s1200/And%20The%20Name%20Is.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjak9ha2eZ4pW-mAiHXUtMFxWOL4x_yiprfn2UifcMc4W81RuuPDr81fhclRcqqgtJPKFY0ky9kkX3CPm4bJeAL5RBLpJj3V8T1V7tbAfKCpyv_ZJhlKIxov-4DReLKnQfHGmR7LIfXIJTXrIia5O_8MVEajq7i-DbDqo-0BynMVwjw5cMbkjuH9XKS5tw/s320/And%20The%20Name%20Is.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
Many parents will agonize for weeks to find just the right name for their new born child. Some will choose a name that they feel is distinguished, maybe a traditional family name, or the name of a famous person. The chosen name might be unique or just whatever is popular at the time. But whatever name a proud parent places on their child, the child will be stuck with it – at least until he or she is old enough to legally change it. <br />
<br />
Some people have names where the last name is preceded my three or more names – Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland. (Not sure how you would fill out an official form calling for a first, middle, and last name.) There are those with just two names – a first and a last, and then there those of the music world who prefer just one name – Cher, Adele, Prince. Some people do choose to change their names, but not necessarily because they did not like the name they were given – Bob Dylan, Ringo Starr, Miley Cyrus. <br />
<br />
Even if you stick with your given name, it might be shortened – Madeline could be Maddie, Mads, Maddy or Mae. (Never really understood how Robert becomes Bob or John becomes Jack.) There are names that could be a boy’s name or a girl’s name (with or without trick spelling) – Dana, Robin, Chris, Jordan. There are also names that could be a first or last name – Ray Charles, Jesse James. Names from history can sometimes seem odd simply because they have fallen out-of-fashion – Leonidas Polk. <br />
<br />
Let us not forget the trick of being a Junior, the III, IV, V... In my case, James Daniel Hardison, Jr., sharing the same name with my father created mix-ups at times, but it was also a dead giveaway. “Oh, you must be Dan’s son.” Despite the fact that I was called Danny to distinguish me from my father. Then there was the teacher who insisted on calling all students by their “given” name. I had the choice of being called James or Daniel. Nicknames were strictly forbidden. And there are employers who refuse to use anything but the employee’s given name, first and last. <br />
<br />
My advice to anyone struggling to find the perfect name for their child would be to choose the name you want to call the child by and make that their first name. A middle name is optional because the “official” world will just ignore it anyway. <br />
<br />
By <strike>James Daniel Hardison, Jr. </strike><br /><strike>
James Hardison </strike><br /><strike>
Daniel Hardison </strike><br />
Danny Hardison <br />or just Dan Hardison <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
March 2024<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-79302318159900627192024-02-25T09:05:00.001-05:002024-03-02T10:38:27.777-05:00Three Poems<div>
<br />
    <font color="#4A6984"><b>The Key </b></font><br />
<br />
    Rummaging through a drawer <br />
    I come across a key <br />
    that I do not recognize. <br />
<br />
    Perhaps a house key, <br />
    maybe not this house, <br />
    but another now forgotten. <br />
<br />
    I should throw it out <br />
    the locks are probably changed <br />
    but I won't, at least not yet. <br />
<br />
    I may need this key <br />
    to unlock a memory <br />
    of some other place and time. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
    <font color="#4A6984"><b>Looking Within </b></font><br />
<br />
    Today I came across <br />
    an old book of poetry <br />
    that I had purchased <br />
    but then forgot. <br />
<br />
    Opening the book <br />
    two white petals fall out – <br />
    rose petals lightly tinged <br />
    and pressed flat. <br />
<br />
    So, who could have left <br />
    this simple keepsake? <br />
    For what reason? <br />
    And why this book? <br />
<br />
    My mind wanders <br />
    filled with curious thoughts <br />
    stirred by rose petals <br />
    found in a book.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
    <font color="#4A6984"><b>The Passing Day </b></font><br />
<br />
    The cat <br />
    is laying in the sun <br />
    by the window. <br />
<br />
    Beyond the window <br />
    dead leaves are blown about <br />
    by a wintry wind. <br />
<br />
    Pots that had held <br />
    blooms of summer flowers, <br />
    are empty now. <br />
<br />
    The Dogwood, Crepe Myrtle, <br />
    and Rose of Sharon <br />
    are bare limbed. <br />
<br />
    I stand at the window <br />
    gazing at a world sleeping, <br />
    waiting for the season to turn. <br />
<br />
    The cat <br />
    is laying in the sun <br />
    by the window.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://theravensperch.com/">The Ravens Perch</a> <br />
February, 2024<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-21053530333340360372024-01-05T18:00:00.002-05:002024-03-02T10:34:52.923-05:00Enchanting<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRBKNsEKc_9dHYf0N4TnwepZw6wMTYXHy9bLaC_-lvDZyJu9BD0NAettmDTGbJNPUm22MPBlgKMYEUlhjeZZppdY_T6FtJ6kgEbxNiWFZYl4CoH62fxPTujCrO1fc1K7h6MYhs8-_CCib9smPFZvd4Hugu3ycBAeqjUulFwb1IU9DmoXfAa6b0yjNFs1D/s1200/Under_Ice.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRBKNsEKc_9dHYf0N4TnwepZw6wMTYXHy9bLaC_-lvDZyJu9BD0NAettmDTGbJNPUm22MPBlgKMYEUlhjeZZppdY_T6FtJ6kgEbxNiWFZYl4CoH62fxPTujCrO1fc1K7h6MYhs8-_CCib9smPFZvd4Hugu3ycBAeqjUulFwb1IU9DmoXfAa6b0yjNFs1D/s400/Under_Ice.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
  Through summer <br />
  shades of dusty green <br />
  has sustained the trees. <br />
<br />
  A dazzling show <br />
  of earthy hues begins <br />
  when autumn comes.<br />
<br />
  Poplars, ashes, and birches <br />
  wear radiant saffron, <br />
  beeches shimmering copper. <br />
<br />
  Oak leaves turn rosy bronze, <br />
  hickories a tweedy russet, <br />
  and aspens buttery gold. <br />
<br />
  Maples are honey yellow <br />
  but can be scarlet <br />
  or riotous red. <br />
<br />
  A delight for the eyes <br />
  before the coming season <br />
  of grey and white. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
  — <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
January 2024<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-78637024068647789772023-12-22T18:00:00.001-05:002023-12-22T18:00:00.138-05:00Star Bright<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNt-uQG-tsMfaDigAsK2ZFjV51p8JNDFv_aCwf93s4ULqu2fFAJMq06tRGu2H9EdCfWTx5YZQ_-Map_p8X4Ns5P64NUadThWzVSLWWrFC2rO9lgSsqTt9FBRu9_NO6oT80VlVUyYLHmp5mgnA_jaB9To4iqSRnmRWCZrkglp4ACHMzt0vcvnm9pHbEkhp/s1200/Star%20Bright.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNt-uQG-tsMfaDigAsK2ZFjV51p8JNDFv_aCwf93s4ULqu2fFAJMq06tRGu2H9EdCfWTx5YZQ_-Map_p8X4Ns5P64NUadThWzVSLWWrFC2rO9lgSsqTt9FBRu9_NO6oT80VlVUyYLHmp5mgnA_jaB9To4iqSRnmRWCZrkglp4ACHMzt0vcvnm9pHbEkhp/s400/Star%20Bright.jpg"/></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2bTxMM2nSX8tVUtnJwGwdfmC5-V4zQcxs2ww8kSg0fqDP3lbtaKEDwxMNAApHlByXsXIjONGux2Zk2AxyQ53AZXO8i7eBkR-B_9PbpdzP5w4TzNQj6j41hszHbga7f1bqBW5Il3ITgUNqSFyFx7k7Ws0JlLJ8gpYVIDzeqLUYZa1-BX5NhbKaQoGtJEr/s1200/Star%20Bright%20-%20inside.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2bTxMM2nSX8tVUtnJwGwdfmC5-V4zQcxs2ww8kSg0fqDP3lbtaKEDwxMNAApHlByXsXIjONGux2Zk2AxyQ53AZXO8i7eBkR-B_9PbpdzP5w4TzNQj6j41hszHbga7f1bqBW5Il3ITgUNqSFyFx7k7Ws0JlLJ8gpYVIDzeqLUYZa1-BX5NhbKaQoGtJEr/s400/Star%20Bright%20-%20inside.jpg"/></a></div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-9359502372748353102023-12-08T15:46:00.001-05:002023-12-08T15:46:00.129-05:00Unintended Consequence<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji74onMGObC7DHNOKjXKYNKz2jXdK1B8-ITDau_4S914pKvOQvG0My6u7IGrlTmhvGuRTig8fSLY-IHASX2PEcXiypnVhQ4RzviXRPJLvuWppqro0R_awWH3QVoY2UdJG2aqX-smZkp4IEl1TjV0789APJDfnt8hGjSys4_TvwrIN844w87sKUwHudn-tF/s1200/Unintended%20Consequence.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="857" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji74onMGObC7DHNOKjXKYNKz2jXdK1B8-ITDau_4S914pKvOQvG0My6u7IGrlTmhvGuRTig8fSLY-IHASX2PEcXiypnVhQ4RzviXRPJLvuWppqro0R_awWH3QVoY2UdJG2aqX-smZkp4IEl1TjV0789APJDfnt8hGjSys4_TvwrIN844w87sKUwHudn-tF/s400/Unintended%20Consequence.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
Constructed of quarried boulders, the breakwater extends across the bay for about a mile. For those willing to make the intimidating walk across, you will be rewarded with secluded beaches, two lighthouses, and the chance to observe crabs, starfish, and maybe a seal along the way. <br />
<br />
We checked the tide chart, so not to get stranded at high tide, and began our trek. Token, a little brown rescue dog found at a New York city subway station, came along. At almost the halfway point, Token decided to return to less challenging terrain. No matter our calls, Token never looked back, never slowed. Once we arrived back at the sandy beach where the breakwater begins, Token sat happily waiting for us. <br />
<br />
knowing eyes <br />
focused and patient . . . <br />
heron <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://contemporaryhaibunonline.com//">Contempary Haibun Online</a> <br />
Issue 19.3, November 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-29725853608928746512023-12-01T20:51:00.003-05:002024-03-02T10:35:42.318-05:00A Journey to Behold<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2OJoUXJnvxDSexGZgzva-10jYOBmlK5BCLSC4m208JBkyDvNLpK0Hgxsh1w6ehyphenhyphenf0bxcWsm2REoUDMBQsd6YEidfNT899KxbWZx6senkfrDZMJ3ynCf7M3-XX655hrz5iGbZMLo6eC03WS1aZvyTLI0JFA8A9MiNTBOuLxxU51dqUkAKkmCZdb_MdemA/s1200/A%20Journey%20to%20Behold.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="857" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2OJoUXJnvxDSexGZgzva-10jYOBmlK5BCLSC4m208JBkyDvNLpK0Hgxsh1w6ehyphenhyphenf0bxcWsm2REoUDMBQsd6YEidfNT899KxbWZx6senkfrDZMJ3ynCf7M3-XX655hrz5iGbZMLo6eC03WS1aZvyTLI0JFA8A9MiNTBOuLxxU51dqUkAKkmCZdb_MdemA/s400/A%20Journey%20to%20Behold.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
The time had come <br />
to embark on a journey, <br />
to leave family and friends, <br />
to depart the only home <br />
you have known. <br />
<br />
As you stand in the doorway <br />
the rooms behind you <br />
filled with memories <br />
pull at your heart and mind <br />
to remain.<br />
<br />
There is comfort here, <br />
the beyond unknown, <br />
there will be no going back <br />
once that step is taken, <br />
the door closed. <br />
<br />
Voices inside you call out <br />
with doubt and with sadness, <br />
yet there is a new voice <br />
a singular voice, your own, <br />
you know you must go. <br />
<br />
The door closes <br />
and a darkness falls over you <br />
covers you in confusion, <br />
but as you turn there is a light <br />
that brightens the soul. <br />
<br />
All that has gone before <br />
and all that you have learned <br />
will be with you, to guide you, <br />
as you begin this journey – <br />
a new life, your own. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
November 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-3634056216860579192023-11-23T10:54:00.001-05:002024-03-02T10:36:01.390-05:00A Place I Used to Go<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirr0gdu7uacwZ6pxH0C5eA6nWy5iCmL0AxVYuyvcLskIpwXQ2UdejiEGpL3tfswWR8-HKV9MklFNuCIP2D_5hJ-JTpSTbnoEdDLIF6XH3FTOGJzTlIWPYM79Ac7hnUNn3EDO5CKvhkf_aQ8Voy7UEuplZGwJFGFDKD-QT2cOJ97bT-xYmcXSp8YeX-HGUZ/s1200/A%20Place%20I%20Used%20to%20Go.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirr0gdu7uacwZ6pxH0C5eA6nWy5iCmL0AxVYuyvcLskIpwXQ2UdejiEGpL3tfswWR8-HKV9MklFNuCIP2D_5hJ-JTpSTbnoEdDLIF6XH3FTOGJzTlIWPYM79Ac7hnUNn3EDO5CKvhkf_aQ8Voy7UEuplZGwJFGFDKD-QT2cOJ97bT-xYmcXSp8YeX-HGUZ/s320/A%20Place%20I%20Used%20to%20Go.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<i>. . . there cannot be growth without sacrifice and there is no guarantee that what will come tomorrow will be half as precious as what was ours just yesterday. </i><br />
— Jim Metcalf <br />
<br />
<br />
We encounter many things as we make our way through life that help steer us along our path, or perhaps set us upon another path entirely. There are people who influence our thoughts and beliefs. There are events that remain with us always. But we also encounter little things that can impact our lives – sometimes without realizing it at the time. <br />
<br />
Often times we may hear a song that will take us back to another place in time. I remember my first true awareness of music when I listened to Chet Atkins’ album “Mister Guitar” in the early 1960’s. The album turned me onto music and would lead to my own guitar lessons and a love of music that today includes many varied styles. My every day is filled with music, but when I pull out “Mister Guitar,” I am transported back to where it all began. <br />
<br />
During my school years, literature was not to my liking. It did not matter what form or style of literature – if it had words, it was disliked. Everything changed in the mid 1970’s when I picked up Jim Metcalf’s small book of poetry “In Some Quiet Place.” That one book created a love for words that literature classes could not. Although today I read many different forms of writing, I still occasionally pull out one of Jim Metcalf’s books and discover again that first thrill of the printed word. <br />
<br />
I have long had a passion for visual art. I owe most of my knowledge and appreciation of art to my uncle, but a turning point came when I purchased the book, “The Art of Andrew Wyeth.” Wyeth’s work fascinated me. His art was realistic in that the scenes and subjects were immediately recognizable, yet they also told a deeper story and created a mood that drew you in and captured you. A high point came in 1980 when I visited a museum show of Andrew Wyeth art. My love of art today embraces many different styles that include the world of craft. But for me the soft tones and quiet melancholy of Andrew Wyeth’s world will forever remain a fascination. <br />
<br />
So, excuse me while I get a cup of tea, put on Chet Atkins’ “Mister Guitar,” grab my tattered copy of Jim Metcalf’s “In Some Quiet Place” and “The Art of Andrew Wyeth.” I need to revisit some old friends, drift back to where things began, and dip once again in water from another time. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
Weekly Yarns - Oct 30, 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-9306475753430816812023-11-17T20:00:00.003-05:002024-03-02T10:36:16.285-05:00Thinking About Circles<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXdzewp2oyQUZumv9pOmLuZTSAUgb1lrruEt41JKqW467UCkTyZ6fxAocBiUB7bxR8EzpQF2amtBesorZnzyOilNAKXRpiNwv8P_3Qsijre8Kzx-9SfDU3hwIOHdnC45fNN5QI5qz0sosNa1R1RllwZ1TYtVtPm4TGH1nkjRnOrg22tl0mzyVM-9vv9ca/s1200/Thinking%20About%20Circles.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="825" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXdzewp2oyQUZumv9pOmLuZTSAUgb1lrruEt41JKqW467UCkTyZ6fxAocBiUB7bxR8EzpQF2amtBesorZnzyOilNAKXRpiNwv8P_3Qsijre8Kzx-9SfDU3hwIOHdnC45fNN5QI5qz0sosNa1R1RllwZ1TYtVtPm4TGH1nkjRnOrg22tl0mzyVM-9vv9ca/w275-h400/Thinking%20About%20Circles.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>
<div>
What about the earth, <br />
the sun and the moon; <br />
<br />
what about morning <br />
to night and back again; <br />
<br />
what about seasons <br />
where spring follows winter; <br />
<br />
and then there is life <br />
from birth to death. <br />
<br />
Are we limited <br />
to a straight line? <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
Daily Verse, November 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-19653230151029812962023-11-10T18:00:00.003-05:002024-03-02T10:36:31.164-05:00Just One of Those Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4HDDXRpoepwBIdq2VsmKqEBnsBPmKOSgtzMyFBpOm2wM-WYfLVmiHxkVGBAc4MYhKhqWMPYGdP0GLGmWDyESTxrlI2_pWji1tkLLDbGCjB-SptPhxtOLcuhITurqLI49ZPqpSygYZgePknDenjTYuFtcDSQgysyYKGQNCwlnGAXTYNx3VOW_QgbiSRqk/s1200/Just%20One%20of%20Those%20Days.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4HDDXRpoepwBIdq2VsmKqEBnsBPmKOSgtzMyFBpOm2wM-WYfLVmiHxkVGBAc4MYhKhqWMPYGdP0GLGmWDyESTxrlI2_pWji1tkLLDbGCjB-SptPhxtOLcuhITurqLI49ZPqpSygYZgePknDenjTYuFtcDSQgysyYKGQNCwlnGAXTYNx3VOW_QgbiSRqk/s320/Just%20One%20of%20Those%20Days.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<i>It’s just one of those days you can’t explain</i><br />
. . .<br />
<i>Some days you write the song</i><br />
<i>Some days the song writes you</i><br />
— Guy Clark<br />
<br />
When a writer is faced with a blank page and the task of putting words together with a mind that does not want to cooperate it is called writer's block. But artists can face the same problem with a blank canvas. Just getting started can be a difficult task. Then there is the problem when the image that is developing on the canvas does not match the image visualized in the mind. Examples are many where even great artists have painted over sections of canvas that did not suit them, or simply painted a different image on the back of a canvas. <br />
<br />
Then there are the times when a work of art has been completed, installed in a place of distinction, and something really goes wrong. <br />
<br />
Ben Long has made a career as a teacher and a painter of frescos. He has created stunning frescos in churches and public buildings. Beginning in 1988, Ben Long spent two years creating a very large fresco for historic St. Peter’s Catholic Church in Charlotte, North Carolina. Over 1500 square feet and 30 feet high, the fresco depicted “The Agony in the Garden”, “The Pentecost”, and at the center “The Resurrection”. <br />
<br />
In 2002, the unthinkable happened. The entire center section of the fresco crashed to the floor with remaining areas severely damaged. A heart-breaking disaster. While it would be determined that numerous construction projects in the immediate area surrounding the historic downtown church was the cause of the destruction – with the foundation work on a high-rise bank building next door delivering the final blow – the loss was still devastating. <br />
<br />
The creation of art can be difficult and often frustrating work. To render an object that reflects one’s thoughts, vision, and passion, can be exhilarating. The late folk artist Sybil Gibson once said, “I have had so many adversities related to my painting – along with some notable successes – that I sometimes wonder at my determined drive to keep trying in the face of some of my disasters. Everything one creates doesn't turn out a masterpiece, but it is such a joyous thrill to bring off something you recognize as being good from your innermost self.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
November 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-78943812277911055012023-11-04T08:24:00.000-04:002023-11-04T08:24:02.599-04:00Remembering When<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzJhrz0rfFO3xFp08y_VEMu7TlXiU8ZoY7jBZ3ojcvcOTZlAJ_-m77NQyT-UCDlOm9Psy3HkkKWA8cH6y1Ov6toPASTVzTmY91SsWR1hyTvHPK7nQNhGIuWXU3czInl7n5d0p6Fd25tp305qQzjOPg5qITRIcwMnNnSKSogLVpnjPUPq5n0KEfXjrIpkkk/s1200/Remembering%20When.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzJhrz0rfFO3xFp08y_VEMu7TlXiU8ZoY7jBZ3ojcvcOTZlAJ_-m77NQyT-UCDlOm9Psy3HkkKWA8cH6y1Ov6toPASTVzTmY91SsWR1hyTvHPK7nQNhGIuWXU3czInl7n5d0p6Fd25tp305qQzjOPg5qITRIcwMnNnSKSogLVpnjPUPq5n0KEfXjrIpkkk/s320/Remembering%20When.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
My grandfather was an avid fisherman. He loved fishing the rivers and lakes of Middle Tennessee. Mother would talk of weekends growing up when breakfast would be whatever he caught that morning. And if fishing was not good, there would be frog legs. <br />
<br />
dog-eared page . . . <br />
returning <br />
time and again <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="www.cattailsjournal.com//">Cattails</a> <br />
October 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-59697646696760198552023-10-27T14:07:00.001-04:002023-12-31T13:52:41.147-05:00Haiga<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dF8u83PPj03EUZK-i9kX7EZAGhxJ_XshY2o0zPiFxOU0l-6ZS4ReutLDnPSrVCs_4xEJ5iQ2Zjj7X_4xbRmdYsGbRYrxtzG7XnAjIKIqGjmaTRLgHf-UCXQfCTEK49mkayEg6HGjiNHJedTbI66jNLpAx8bmokT6o0Er3MTrBbJFXh08FdACukfw1dIB/s1200/Sighing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dF8u83PPj03EUZK-i9kX7EZAGhxJ_XshY2o0zPiFxOU0l-6ZS4ReutLDnPSrVCs_4xEJ5iQ2Zjj7X_4xbRmdYsGbRYrxtzG7XnAjIKIqGjmaTRLgHf-UCXQfCTEK49mkayEg6HGjiNHJedTbI66jNLpAx8bmokT6o0Er3MTrBbJFXh08FdACukfw1dIB/s400/Sighing.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<a href="www.cattailsjournal.com//">Cattails</a> <br />
October 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-47742562435632862752023-10-21T13:29:00.001-04:002023-11-04T08:21:25.694-04:00Outlook<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ayt363Kuoo4R-x-ghMj3q3bZ9XGWmHzbigfbY6bhoXpkVL-sucYVSxSXH_8uzD1tHSwN5GpY33nBJj4q30MlBfH_ZCVyVqJ1cLkjX9kXiKcHC6PgjGFTxo05Wsb9OIWAKj1lrHXi4GCqmdEufW6P8_02IGoQlTduG2KPC8ARF0u2e_74DSPkl2XMhl1s/s1200/Outlook.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="794" data-original-width="1200" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ayt363Kuoo4R-x-ghMj3q3bZ9XGWmHzbigfbY6bhoXpkVL-sucYVSxSXH_8uzD1tHSwN5GpY33nBJj4q30MlBfH_ZCVyVqJ1cLkjX9kXiKcHC6PgjGFTxo05Wsb9OIWAKj1lrHXi4GCqmdEufW6P8_02IGoQlTduG2KPC8ARF0u2e_74DSPkl2XMhl1s/w400-h265/Outlook.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
Mountain born and bred they say. His home is, as it always has been, a cove in a narrow valley. A simple life for a simple man -- never wanting more, never needing more, never venturing beyond the tree lined rim.<br />
<br />
The day finally came when he traveled beyond his valley to a bluff on the other side of the mountain. The vastness of land stretching out before him caused him to exclaim, “So that’s the world. God almighty ain’t she a whopper!”<br />
<br />
journey . . . <br />
the blurred distance <br />
becomes the past <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
(After the George W. Jones story “Uncle Billy”.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.chrysanthemum-haiku.net/">Chrysanthemum</a> <br />
Issue 31, 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-51192062548876445682023-10-06T18:00:00.003-04:002024-03-02T10:36:55.669-05:00Then You’ll Know What I know<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiGAjhPLFgmzIWtYmwwu3lAZUyYym18vPka1BRO6XPQCwr2zRNIgG1DZicTjronl_DWm-4n8vQ4Ef6g5bEiXD2j_b_YY3gmz1lL8yVztwg5mkCN3VaG89DzqXHgby-1q41vhe7Ecb7EkcjIY8R8fQHjHHw8joKxFwfuMdH7CJDw4o_Y10zVn2HmWGqRO7/s1200/Art.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiGAjhPLFgmzIWtYmwwu3lAZUyYym18vPka1BRO6XPQCwr2zRNIgG1DZicTjronl_DWm-4n8vQ4Ef6g5bEiXD2j_b_YY3gmz1lL8yVztwg5mkCN3VaG89DzqXHgby-1q41vhe7Ecb7EkcjIY8R8fQHjHHw8joKxFwfuMdH7CJDw4o_Y10zVn2HmWGqRO7/s320/Art.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
We all know that an artist sees the world around us in a slightly different way, something Leonardo da Vinci described as "knowing how" to see. But how do you teach or even explain this way of seeing to others? This is something all art instructors must try to convey to their students. <br />
<br />
One can possess great technical skills to create art, but still fail to capture a scene or a thought. The artist must learn to go beyond the technical aspect of creating art and develop a “feel” for creating art. The same can be said for music. There is more to being a musician or singer than just playing the notes or singing the words – one must also know how to bring “feeling” to the music.<br />
<br />
There are many things in life that we must learn to do, but being able to perform the technical aspect of the task does not guarantee that we will be good at it or even enjoy doing it. Many people enjoy fishing because they find it relaxing. However, if you have ever tried casting, you know that it is not a simple task. It is one that requires practice to develop a “feel” for it. And if you learned to drive a manual shift car, you know that it is more than just a matter of knowing how, but also developing a “feel” for shifting the gears.<br />
<br />
So, what is this “feel” for doing something? It is the mental state at which a person no longer consciously thinks about a task, but merely does it. Moreover, is this not true about everything we do as we go about our daily lives? What often seems a difficult task can be accomplished with a bit of practice and patience – and developing a “feel” for it. Our lives today have become so hectic, are we losing our ability for concentration, for contemplation, for developing a “feel” for how things are done?<br />
<br />
When Scottish singer/songwriter Dougie MacLean wrote of his experience trying to learn to use a scythe – the age-old tool with a long handle and a curved blade for cutting grass and grain by hand – he captured his father’s instructions with these words: <br />
<br />
<i>O this is not a thing to learn inside a day</i><br />
<i>Stand closely by me and I’ll try to show the way</i><br />
<i>You've got to hold it right</i><br />
<i>feel the distance to the ground</i><br />
<i>Move with a touch so light</i><br />
<i>until it's rhythm you have found</i><br />
<i>Then you’ll know what I know</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
October 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-58342272327250536252023-09-22T18:00:00.004-04:002023-12-31T13:53:51.498-05:00DailyHaiga<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4o1FeaMkD3HbuNGa8Y2k2zOW5NkWP8wBkw5xVdH-MM6KN8BNzy38R7SxJ_4uZ8T2sutCIJqbMPDDocQseN5dxwGDMk4XIB7TNKVVXZ-M43f7vdsUZZeoSEmz29VSVarwRlIGx1EMbuEBHbqvdZbG7-1cDVuJsMVEwLjEpoEBpUmoQkDvLC1orQ95AtD-/s1200/Harvest_Moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4o1FeaMkD3HbuNGa8Y2k2zOW5NkWP8wBkw5xVdH-MM6KN8BNzy38R7SxJ_4uZ8T2sutCIJqbMPDDocQseN5dxwGDMk4XIB7TNKVVXZ-M43f7vdsUZZeoSEmz29VSVarwRlIGx1EMbuEBHbqvdZbG7-1cDVuJsMVEwLjEpoEBpUmoQkDvLC1orQ95AtD-/w400-h400/Harvest_Moon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<div>
<a href="http://www.dailyhaiga.org/">DailyHaiga</a><br />
Aug 23, 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-79631733120877892242023-09-16T13:10:00.003-04:002024-03-02T10:37:14.106-05:00Three Poems<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXCTs5IWLJHfxNO4CPw2jGWKlSSUsf6zYWEOC9jjkzMhyefzr4Sp6XxbyNxvAKHGw4Jg6uSzXL2NAI3P38fqi78mqgdjpqjH5MSit6xWCQ1zguBQBDE-w-Y_tluEJgWkPOOV1XfFMcTPOqARJO0LBfCTLZxY3f7glKUsZM6VI58kATnDyNhJCdrDEcWmT/s1200/Observation.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1200" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXCTs5IWLJHfxNO4CPw2jGWKlSSUsf6zYWEOC9jjkzMhyefzr4Sp6XxbyNxvAKHGw4Jg6uSzXL2NAI3P38fqi78mqgdjpqjH5MSit6xWCQ1zguBQBDE-w-Y_tluEJgWkPOOV1XfFMcTPOqARJO0LBfCTLZxY3f7glKUsZM6VI58kATnDyNhJCdrDEcWmT/w320-h256/Observation.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<font color="#4A6984"><b>Observation</b></font><br />
<br />
drifting<br />
on the water<br />
the fog billows and swirls<br />
as though being stirred by a hand<br />
unseen<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemXzPCWBAGAqpzMzFeIIfTBFIlQw_zKCJ_XIVbiQm7Bte-8Cy4UHu8FeChDysU2mnJlRZPznAP2qrx0lAQ_ji8pWEdrPOmfPZNunf47msnFzVxpcaqcQ2Rzs8471G1JYQgTk-QsnCd0CqIM8v0hArEGUbh61zy6NZ7ik_85NPTdJpgExtZXuDljSOJjPn/s1200/Ephemeral.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemXzPCWBAGAqpzMzFeIIfTBFIlQw_zKCJ_XIVbiQm7Bte-8Cy4UHu8FeChDysU2mnJlRZPznAP2qrx0lAQ_ji8pWEdrPOmfPZNunf47msnFzVxpcaqcQ2Rzs8471G1JYQgTk-QsnCd0CqIM8v0hArEGUbh61zy6NZ7ik_85NPTdJpgExtZXuDljSOJjPn/w240-h320/Ephemeral.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<font color="#4A6984"><b>Ephemeral</b></font><br />
<br />
fragile<br />
with days numbered<br />
she speaks of olden days<br />
and tells stories of past glories<br />
this rose<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBj0S2hOZEcpYf-eXaWt-0-e7IJ3sE8qn8UrwlZoOfynU38jySiVIeiZI_x-IJF0KsjUEac8WQ_BjLOK9kPDBYExZSgpY4-kEixFafz22i6R8G0aTLTNapgbs2yMv5e8HdDg-Zl2q8sthYiU-cSbi1NTaBnfuY29-XSJiYWKVAFiT0vTx5HGQSDO2_n0p3/s1200/Passage.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBj0S2hOZEcpYf-eXaWt-0-e7IJ3sE8qn8UrwlZoOfynU38jySiVIeiZI_x-IJF0KsjUEac8WQ_BjLOK9kPDBYExZSgpY4-kEixFafz22i6R8G0aTLTNapgbs2yMv5e8HdDg-Zl2q8sthYiU-cSbi1NTaBnfuY29-XSJiYWKVAFiT0vTx5HGQSDO2_n0p3/w240-h320/Passage.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<font color="#4A6984"><b>Passage</b></font><br />
<br />
today<br />
the cherry tree<br />
that rained petals of white<br />
is now raining leaves of yellow<br />
and gold<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thewiseowl.art/">The Wise Owl</a> <br />
Daily Verse, September 12, 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-35584938479014876992023-08-04T16:06:00.003-04:002023-12-31T13:54:12.294-05:00DailyHaiga<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdCHXhf4cwnY-NnEIrm7HqtliNbaPZz79svwtu7p5u54QNz4XqnuztN066gJMohdrHebdOvPE4aQctN6ePPwZD1Tzk0WC2TXUvENgK4JXISUZi0W6Qf5TNy3zXi6A8JwDIQmf6oZI7Ep0Vn5rUWbnPbz9AynWQtwr1hwyCMf1bgIy8szQsFaTVMYlbKrJ/s1200/Conversation.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdCHXhf4cwnY-NnEIrm7HqtliNbaPZz79svwtu7p5u54QNz4XqnuztN066gJMohdrHebdOvPE4aQctN6ePPwZD1Tzk0WC2TXUvENgK4JXISUZi0W6Qf5TNy3zXi6A8JwDIQmf6oZI7Ep0Vn5rUWbnPbz9AynWQtwr1hwyCMf1bgIy8szQsFaTVMYlbKrJ/s400/Conversation.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.dailyhaiga.org/">DailyHaiga</a><br />
Aug 3, 2023<br />
<br />
Haiku was an Honorable Mention, <i>The Peggy Willis Lyles Haiku Awards for 2021</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-44929490401836986602023-06-23T09:38:00.000-04:002023-06-23T09:38:40.057-04:00TAE23<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigARQwLw_uUFv_6lLoENqeTkA5p3sDUc7VrNK7XpykoIaQq1PatoOYvIFWRfesq_07VXQarpB_7v5CrdXfsD2R1X3Is0bIrbevSwraZToV-yqVLEdC-6ZCE_LnA-rZo4asjX_KT1J1DiMbCbhRmPdleucTv8YVsrXcfP6hif2BfvdpNr-7VyedR6Y7neN-/s1200/Under_Ice.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigARQwLw_uUFv_6lLoENqeTkA5p3sDUc7VrNK7XpykoIaQq1PatoOYvIFWRfesq_07VXQarpB_7v5CrdXfsD2R1X3Is0bIrbevSwraZToV-yqVLEdC-6ZCE_LnA-rZo4asjX_KT1J1DiMbCbhRmPdleucTv8YVsrXcfP6hif2BfvdpNr-7VyedR6Y7neN-/s400/Under_Ice.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<i>Under Ice</i><br />
(mixed media)<br />
5" x 7"<br />
<br />
Donated to <a href="www.twitterartexhibit.org/">TAE23</a> <br />
To benefit the Urban Native Youth Association<br />
Vancouver, BC, Canada<br />
Exibit opening June 24, 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-71834692806435650342023-06-23T09:06:00.001-04:002023-12-31T13:54:26.083-05:00DailyHaiga<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6sAbpc-ttss4YGC4ZRycM7PKHyTsl_rtWK5YH02ZZPmCSh_lw-MP_ARm8P23SiCkoNnFi1YMHSfwGWIVM0oleEJBt0nkiKvBKQTEF_kHXsAPUy4TD1YAWFLfu-oKWAeqgU3PF3z5VnBfBjECQF0gKQmQIDJAKVZHC2OvVWDxytTiqsS1jYskEBaQeacq/s1200/Planting_Moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6sAbpc-ttss4YGC4ZRycM7PKHyTsl_rtWK5YH02ZZPmCSh_lw-MP_ARm8P23SiCkoNnFi1YMHSfwGWIVM0oleEJBt0nkiKvBKQTEF_kHXsAPUy4TD1YAWFLfu-oKWAeqgU3PF3z5VnBfBjECQF0gKQmQIDJAKVZHC2OvVWDxytTiqsS1jYskEBaQeacq/w400-h400/Planting_Moon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
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<a href="http://www.dailyhaiga.org/">DailyHaiga</a><br />
June 18, 2023<br />
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<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-25941604082865844682023-06-03T09:13:00.000-04:002023-06-03T09:13:05.031-04:00Déjà vu<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5v9Xy935Z-SAJCXLlUhskeaaw_npqAm_yfmunpF6zSl2UEJ5jXXdnuMML-V5erQOYSOMMAE2vv9vZRMP3kVWPnaAisFIt-BtuMsh31vaHjCBd-GD1GfcEnKwfJQflVXbcxXLc7ss7VxXkzqGOoU3ilP2s5PD3c7j8jkKLTKv022Pjx9yS6Pn9_K7TQ/s1200/D%C3%A9j%C3%A0%20vu.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="779" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5v9Xy935Z-SAJCXLlUhskeaaw_npqAm_yfmunpF6zSl2UEJ5jXXdnuMML-V5erQOYSOMMAE2vv9vZRMP3kVWPnaAisFIt-BtuMsh31vaHjCBd-GD1GfcEnKwfJQflVXbcxXLc7ss7VxXkzqGOoU3ilP2s5PD3c7j8jkKLTKv022Pjx9yS6Pn9_K7TQ/s400/D%C3%A9j%C3%A0%20vu.jpg"/></a></div>
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The old postcard is postmarked September 22, 1913. On the front is a picture of a boarding school for girls. The message reads, “Dearest, I got your letter this morning and sure did enjoy it. Will answer it real soon. Please be good and next Wednesday send me a package of chocolate cakes. If you send it then, I will get them by Friday. Am very happy up here. Love to all from the ‘noise of the family’.”<br />
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No matter the amount of planning and preparations we make for children, the child will ad lib all the way. It is always interesting how much children of yesterday and today are alike.<br />
<br />
a new day . . .<br />
the mockingbird’s<br />
old song<br />
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— <i>Dan Hardison<br />
<br />
<br />
Note: The Columbia Female Institute was an Episcopal finishing school for girls established in 1835. It was forced to close in 1934, a casualty of the Great Depression. The school was located in Columbia, Tennessee.</i><br />
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<a href="www.cattailsjournal.com//">Cattails</a> <br />
April 2023<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-61695028224318035872023-05-18T15:41:00.002-04:002023-12-31T13:54:35.855-05:00DailyHaiga<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6BqGsYwwVS54uMaOyjVzLFfArVrItmU3NEUlufB65bvp6WsOZ2x2VOR3SYhiYxKRqfd_bRUncJdAd07ki71m7xzE8i5hgBjpTa4uS68zrtXQftWaDgewfKTMES0bQ_tg_AuB1ahZopA52r_tSKxwet9QTVBqX6bd84SZ3zgW6d95yCAmBVRiS-LieoqW/s1200/Spring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1200" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6BqGsYwwVS54uMaOyjVzLFfArVrItmU3NEUlufB65bvp6WsOZ2x2VOR3SYhiYxKRqfd_bRUncJdAd07ki71m7xzE8i5hgBjpTa4uS68zrtXQftWaDgewfKTMES0bQ_tg_AuB1ahZopA52r_tSKxwet9QTVBqX6bd84SZ3zgW6d95yCAmBVRiS-LieoqW/w400-h250/Spring.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.dailyhaiga.org/">DailyHaiga</a><br />
May 17, 2023<br />
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<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-53864451104490355792023-02-04T08:30:00.004-05:002023-02-05T13:06:50.518-05:00Mother's Vase<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyZAfc4s3cwoyx0EFhJ0-Sn9uShMs6H9cakf1NBkWoV7aDbdZdRF5wkM2zxCAcsOujnGY6DYgPK5tb4dsBMClimSbwN1_Lb7ZVURlSZIIdtEfgr39_T-50TxTcrevPAS4iUQ6TMx3H5ODd_zT3jQSay845PHsOjj0BAhdw1WvmJ8Hj7_IBjaBot42gA/s1200/Mother%27s_Vase.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyZAfc4s3cwoyx0EFhJ0-Sn9uShMs6H9cakf1NBkWoV7aDbdZdRF5wkM2zxCAcsOujnGY6DYgPK5tb4dsBMClimSbwN1_Lb7ZVURlSZIIdtEfgr39_T-50TxTcrevPAS4iUQ6TMx3H5ODd_zT3jQSay845PHsOjj0BAhdw1WvmJ8Hj7_IBjaBot42gA/s400/Mother%27s_Vase.jpg"/></a></div>
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<i>Haiga by Dan Hardison</i><br />
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<br />
This haiga is included in the book "contemporary haibun 18", an anthology of haibun, tanka prose, and haiga from 2022. Available from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/1958408174?psc=1&ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_product_details">Amazon</a>.<br />
<br />
Comment by editor by Ron C. Moss: “'Mother’s Vase' offers a poignant senryu with which we can all identify: how our dear mothers hold everything together. As with all of Dan’s work, the line work in the drawing is sure and steady, displaying great concentration, and the muted pastel colours work well with the subject."<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-52571904335508556112022-12-24T10:39:00.000-05:002022-12-24T10:39:03.047-05:00Believe<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3fFbHk29W-x3oWxi77YzxjSz9MQP3B2AW-zuxE-0W1chM2QN-IvBNJnbbNbBLlAFBXe72X4DlETWWIA6FHuVIC8bsUpfCv_V7N6pjK4b-DootUQMxwHV8b9OPSjZy0IsZD-dhaRMmtzcJdjj3g39u-m43axpnXh-hfXDSyhFPDgp3-Je1L-gqYg-Cg/s1200/believe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="857" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3fFbHk29W-x3oWxi77YzxjSz9MQP3B2AW-zuxE-0W1chM2QN-IvBNJnbbNbBLlAFBXe72X4DlETWWIA6FHuVIC8bsUpfCv_V7N6pjK4b-DootUQMxwHV8b9OPSjZy0IsZD-dhaRMmtzcJdjj3g39u-m43axpnXh-hfXDSyhFPDgp3-Je1L-gqYg-Cg/s400/believe.jpg"/></a></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-7094949517131706602022-12-01T10:19:00.001-05:002023-12-31T13:54:48.552-05:00DailyHaiga<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrn0RZYvUmD6Sz5kPooz87HlRyJsVcu0w0ZzGRwMKqrvaZVo91n4SuPbUrLixSQToVEbtBs0i9K5w8wjVP-ipPapCiF7YBFXEytWQ0ndke8gJ7MukRZmEqprpvY_RdePlAZ7wpKNKO3PI3Ei4HkNuLt90kwKH-Lu_2K-kktkxuO2E_x6tMkcvQH0MrA/s3450/Early_Winter.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3450" data-original-width="3450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrn0RZYvUmD6Sz5kPooz87HlRyJsVcu0w0ZzGRwMKqrvaZVo91n4SuPbUrLixSQToVEbtBs0i9K5w8wjVP-ipPapCiF7YBFXEytWQ0ndke8gJ7MukRZmEqprpvY_RdePlAZ7wpKNKO3PI3Ei4HkNuLt90kwKH-Lu_2K-kktkxuO2E_x6tMkcvQH0MrA/s400/Early_Winter.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.dailyhaiga.org/">DailyHaiga</a><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-68739846437288878552022-10-28T21:00:00.002-04:002023-12-31T13:55:03.454-05:00DailyHaiga<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidf9D_zvZotE03I587w2PnJgOdkhPhbwCjbcg0Q2RfyWNkAeVqCZ1DlxKS6pA050bDVduoI1hBlwjOrbNAmi6daKlm1MRG0CFbVg_58ferfaN8WOHHWz8doQVW96EhrQBOFYj62Max89MeV7A295aBIIDo7OspkLLhswtBb_lBvuIFSThQgJFs0pw44Q/s1200/Earthy_Delight.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidf9D_zvZotE03I587w2PnJgOdkhPhbwCjbcg0Q2RfyWNkAeVqCZ1DlxKS6pA050bDVduoI1hBlwjOrbNAmi6daKlm1MRG0CFbVg_58ferfaN8WOHHWz8doQVW96EhrQBOFYj62Max89MeV7A295aBIIDo7OspkLLhswtBb_lBvuIFSThQgJFs0pw44Q/s400/Earthy_Delight.jpg"/></a></div>
<div>
<a href="www.cattailsjournal.com//">Cattails</a> <br />
October 2022<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7447967859600879781.post-3655928795418701042022-10-22T10:09:00.003-04:002022-10-22T10:09:20.163-04:00Foreshadow<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6URzC3YMmoOJhhqxGnLTK64zHOo_z1MrM3VQbZUTgrL2gSMtvGOGZ9GDfDoc1HshYcphkxg6m9J-1fUXJpiunfUEIIZtw5qsTHY3Mufk0vJKZSbGi7NLbU3kExOgM_hzyYvSjPbXh5re5LD-RuJlhDMeVEi49XkOMx4sGuYyi0spahyIWw-3Mj_EHA/s1200/Foreshadow.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6URzC3YMmoOJhhqxGnLTK64zHOo_z1MrM3VQbZUTgrL2gSMtvGOGZ9GDfDoc1HshYcphkxg6m9J-1fUXJpiunfUEIIZtw5qsTHY3Mufk0vJKZSbGi7NLbU3kExOgM_hzyYvSjPbXh5re5LD-RuJlhDMeVEi49XkOMx4sGuYyi0spahyIWw-3Mj_EHA/s320/Foreshadow.jpg"/></a></div>
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There is a place of quiet and beauty by a river where it meets the sea. At this place a town was born and in this town a church was built. Times changed, the outlook dimmed, and all was left abandoned. Ruins of a church are all that remain where faith, hope and dreams once were found.<br />
<br />
daylight dims<br />
where sun should prevail . . .<br />
curtain of rain<br />
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<div>
— <i>Dan Hardison</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="www.cattailsjournal.com//">Cattails</a> <br />
October 2022<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Dan Hardisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03732126026113762864noreply@blogger.com