I usually take my watercolors along and try to knock out a few postcards while I’m sitting on the beach–it’s a good way to pass the time, and salt water creates some neat effects with the pigments.
Also, in lieu of writing a journal-style blog post about my week on the coast, I wrote a series of haiku this year: that’s not a normal thing for me, but this year when I was at the beach, I found myself processing it in haiku–probably because I have them on the brain: we’ve been reading O-sensei’s doka in my aikido classes lately and also I’ve been involved in a renga correspondence project with some poet friends over email. Especially for wordy writers like me, it’s refreshing (for everyone involved!) to be restricted to 17 syllables.
A boy is playing
his flute in the woods; it helps
me find my way back.
When land is sighted
hope breaks out; upon landing
fear starts to creep in.
What’s heaven going to
be like? Possibly, a dog
lying in the sun.
I realized today
the ocean is death; that’s why
I can’t look away.
The Rookery 