hosts: Reid Hepworth & Shalini Pattabiraman
poet of the month: Lorraine A Padden
24th August 2023
A Thursday Feature
We bring you week 4 with Lorraine A Padden
On Display
The new Renaissance exhibition at the Met just opened this afternoon and it’s packed.
portrait gallery
Titian’s Reclining Venus is the centerpiece of the show, and a guy wearing a long leather coat just pushed to the front of the crowd. He’s standing with his back to the painting, waving his phone around for a selfie that captures the goddess’s naked torso behind his shoulder.
all the prizes
The security guard tells him to move farther away from the painting. Before stepping aside the guy sneers at her and the rest of us who can’t see the work because he’s blocking it.
of ownership
Source:
Drifting Sands Haibun Issue #11 September 2021
THG:
This haibun made me smile and frown in equal measure. It’s so relatable! I’m sure that many, if not most of us have had similar experiences with people being self-involved, entitled and downright creepy! The ku also hit me… the haves versus the have-nots. Those that can afford to purchase art or go to a gallery/exhibition and those that cannot. It can be a bitter pill to swallow.
Can you tell us how you wove that layer into your haibun? Or anything else you want to say about this piece?
Lorraine: I wanted to explore notions of control and ownership - of cultural artifacts, human bodies, visual representation – and not only how gender is a fulcrum in this investigation, but also how technology allows greater numbers of people to get in on the ownership deal, and perhaps redefine it. I really appreciate your bringing up the have-nots, as the only character perpetually kept out of owning anything in this haibun scenario is of course the Reclining Venus herself. She’s permanently objectified in paint on canvas but everyone around her gets to take a piece of her, if you will, not only by seeing her body as a spectator in the gallery, but also by capturing it with a phone. The stereotypical power plays by that entitled man present a possible both/and reading of this piece, in that his boorish aggressions coexist within the context of beneficent generations of mostly men who first enabled world class museums to offer art to the general public in the US over a century ago. While unfortunately no longer the case, the Metropolitan Museum of Art was technically free for decades, the price of admission only a suggestion at the front door.
Prompt: Lorraine has given a fantastic example of a woven haibun. For this week's prompt, we’d like to see you try writing a woven or braided haibun. Any subject matter, the sky's the limit!
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Let it simmer for a while.
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We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in the haikuKATHA monthly journal.
post 1, thanks Vidya and Sangita, 2/9
The Magical Touch
first show
father books tickets to watch the just released 3D sci-fi movie in Sheetal theatre. We hop into our Standard car and father drives through the thick traffic. We reach the theatre just on time. We are given disposable 3D glasses. I sit on the edge of the seat. A creepy sense of doubts and wild imaginations runs through my mind.
rod puppets hold the moon
in an attempt to save the universe, the hero nose-dives in the sea to fall prey to the giant whales created by the villain. Suddenly, a whale opens its jaw right under my nose. I scream!
In the ensuing fight, the dragons seem…
#1
@Reid Hepworth , @sangita kalarickal , @Anju Kishore thanks, girls, for your feedback and suggestions.
Here's my edited version.
Lullaby
The last time I saw Periamma was in 2001, when Mother died. Usually very chatty, Periamma, through the five days she visited us, sat by herself in a corner. She neither shed a tear nor did she lament about the unfairness of our loss. She had always been there for my mother, a strong force to reckon with, and her stoicism gave us strength to keep going through the rituals of the funeral.
well-worn softness
Today, almost twenty-two years later, Periamma receives me into her home as if I had last visited only yesterday. I forget to apologize…
#1
Revision 2
(Thanks Shalini, Reid and Sangita)
What One Gathers
I cast another last glance at the unruly clump of trees on the plot next to mine. Within days, hundreds of miles away, I am staring at clipped rows of boxwood, mounds of ixora rounded into basin-shaped clay pots, and careful tumbles of morning glory. Enough to make a heart leap but mine has stayed behind among the kingfishers and lapwings that frequented the marsh beyond my previous house and the shaggy little patch of forest.
rolling stone
Returning home one dusk, the apartment's lawns look expertly mowed. Parakeets greet me in a burst of fluttering colour from a grilled balcony on the ground floor. From higher up, a…
#1 28/08/23
Revised: thanks Shalini!
Winter’s Approach
The sickly sweet scent of decaying leaves fills the air as we traverse the moss covered rocks. After days of hard rain, the small waterfall is almost overflowing the steep bank, making our descent all that more treacherous. We are bound and determined though to follow the creek as far as we can as part of our re-enactment of an episode from “Adventures in Rainbow Country”.
I’m wearing mukluks, so feel fairly confident on the rocks, but Richard is wearing dress shoes. His face set in concentration and as I did tell him to wear boots or sneakers, he hasn’t complained about the tricky terrain or the fact that his feet are sopping…
Post #2
No man’s land
I stand in awe in front of a shimmering forty floor building. It has a swanky entrance. Lush gardens with sprinklers occupy half of the land around it.
letting go
It’s just been three years since I last visited this place. At that time I had made friends with a few of the refugee families who had set up tents on the barren land. I remember four dogs and their puppies, who were born there.
of what is not mine
Thoughtful, I ask the well dressed gate keeper about them. “Madam, that was long back. All those people were asked to vacate the land by the builder. After all they had illegally occupied the land”…