It’s been a long time since I wrote posts based on Dawn Raffel’s memoir, The Secret Life of Objects. The idea is to write about an object that evokes memories.
I’ve blogged a couple of times about the vacation trip I went on with my parents when I wasn’t even four years old yet. We drove from Michigan south and visited Louisiana and Texas, among other states. Some of my most vivid memories from the time period were in New Orleans. I will always associate the city with sidewalk painters seated at their easels, the brushes that were extensions of their hands, and of course their fascinating canvases.
When I visited my mother in April to help her pack up some items before her move into the apartment building at her retirement village, I discovered this painting, long forgotten and gathering dust in Mom’s basement. My parents purchased it on that trip to New Orleans, and it hung for years in their living room. I shipped it home to myself, and now it hangs in my living room, reminding me of that vacation and the colorful, exciting world that existed outside Kalamazoo.
Colleen Chesebro’s prompt for #TankaTuesday is to use at least one kigo word in a syllabic poem for the current season, which in Arizona is summer. Colleen explains a kigo: 👉🏻 What is a KIGO? A kigo is a season word used in haiku and haibun (the haiku portion).
She provides a possible list of kigos. Daisies are not on the list, perhaps because many think of them as spring flowers. However, daisies are also summer flowers! So many types: Chrysanthemum*, Marguerite, English, Gloriosa, Shasta, Cape, Oxeye, and Gerbera. I prefer Gerbera because unlike the other varieties they are completely non-toxic to cats! *this variety is on Colleen’s list
Here is my haiku:
Nice memory and it’s always good to have treasured pieces displayed in the house. My mother used to tat (kind like crocheting). She made a covering for the window on our back door. We moved and it was stored. I found it when I moved into a new home long ago, had it framed and have displayed it on my walls. She made it in 1930. It reminds me of her.
You are more sentimental than I thought you were! I love that you did that! Framed tattery! (is that a word?) Enjoy it hanging there!
My dad took a drafting class and I have one of his homework pieces framed and hanging too. I don’t do a lot of stuff like that but I have those two.
That is really sweet. My dad and his twin brother both loved their high school drafting classes. In fact, they were probably the only classes they liked! I would love to see a pic of his homework piece if you ever feel like sharing!
I could do that. I don’t have many collectibles but both of those are important to me. Since my dad died when I was 10 it’s an important connection.
Yes, I would say so!
Oh God
I inherited abandoned bits of tatting from several generations ago. Not much I can do with it. Have I thrown it out? Of course not.
I have a few other pieces that are small doilies that I keep in a closet somewhere!
A fine example. It must be wonderful to have rediscovered that painting
Thanks, Derrick! I couldn’t have gotten rid of the painting. My brother is eight years younger so the painting meant nothing to him.
I love the haiku and the back story!
Thank you, Joy!
This is so full of life, Luanne! Delightful <3
Much love,
David
Thank you! I knew from the beginning I wanted that image of one of those brief summer rains still draining off the daisies. It was just figuring out how to fit it in a haiku!
I loved this story of the painting, Luanne. The trips we took with our parents in those days were amazing – and now you have this wonderful memorabilia. And I hope your mom will be content with her move. Makes such a difference.
She seems to be doing pretty well, Sheila. The only big thing is that it’s a big building so now she has to walk quite a distance for meals and socializing which takes a toll on her heart (she has heart issues). I told her after dinner to rest downstairs in the lounge for at least a half hour so her dinner starts to digest before she starts walking.
Good advice.
Thank you 🙂
I love your daisy haiku and its inspiration painting and family memory. My dad drove us to New Orleans from Massachusetts when I was five. What has stuck in my is that my dad’s stepfather was a horrid man, my grandmother called me into her room to watch her put on her artificial leg, I was upset that her black maid (who was actually nice to us) had to eat in the kitchen, and my crayons melted. No keepsakes from that trip!
WOWSA, that must have all been a shock. Why did your grandmother want you to watch her put on her leg? I think the race issues must have been so shocking to those from the north. My mother said the same thing about her trip as a teenager to relatives in (north or south?) Carolina. The separate drinking fountains and all that really got to her. I was probably too young to notice anything like that, being only three and some months. But, yes, to the crayon thing. Mine were in the backseat of the car and got melty, too!
Memories that stay with us make beautiful poetry. Thanks for sharing the story behind this inspiration. Love that haiku.
Balroop, thank you so much!!!! Memories really do help create poems!
Daisies are happy flowers, and they are happiest just after an August shower. Nice poem, Luanne.
Ah, well put! Happiest just after an August shower! Yes! Thanks, Lisa!
Such a lovely painting, I am not surprised it inspired your Haiga, perfect 💕
Oh, thank you so much! So is a haiku a haiga if it goes with a painting?
I enjoyed reading about your long-ago trip and the connection to the painting now in your living room. You have captured the past and held on! Thanks for the lovely little poem as well. Your rain made me think of my rain.
I hope you enjoyed your rain! haha, at least we didn’t have too much of that in Michigan. Whew. Thank you re the poem!!!
Beautiful painting.
Thanks, Anneli! I always thought the palette was interesting although not my favorite. But so interesting that it’s hard to get out of my mind, if that makes sense.
Yes, that’s what makes it special. It has invaded your head.
That’s right!
My mother gave me a painting by her grandmother that I cherish. The one piece of art I kept after she died in May was a metal “tree” with ceramic birds that she got when we lived in Guatemala. I hung it on the wall in our sunny art room.
I think of daisies as summer and even fall flowers.
I wonder if daisies are all seasons except winter! And maybe even winter SOMEWHERE. Arizona? I’m not sure . . . . Oh, I would definitely cherish one painted by my grandmother! Very cool. So glad you were able to keep the metal tree, too!!!
A lovely memory and evocative poem.
Good thing to know about Gerber daisies!
Thank you so much, Merril. Remember they are Gerbera daisies (just in case there is such a thing as Gerber daisies) that are non-toxic. They also last long and are beautiful.
You’re welcome, and thanks.
I never bring flowers into the house without checking if they are OK! Especially when Mickey was alive. Ricky can’t get to them as easily.
Yes, good idea! And I never know about the greenery!
water drops drizzling…beautiful.
Thank you, Gwen!
A most beautiful memory and picture, Luanne. I really liked your haiku and your kigo word. I wasn’t sure what I was doing when I wrote mine but it worked out and I have a better idea now.
Thank you, Robbie! I am never sure what I am doing!
Simply lovely haiku and simply lovely post!
Thank you so much, Rae!
Love it, Luanne.❤️
Thank you, Melissa!
Both your haiku and the painting are lovely, Luanne. What a treasure for you to have discovered the painting in your mother’s basement after all these years, especially since it evoked such tender memories. <3
It’s kind of amazing that the painting wasn’t ruined. All those years just sitting there in the dust and cobwebs where it could have been accidentally kicked, etc.
Aww, Luanne this is truly amazing.
The lead story into a lovely art piece. But you were four. You remember that so well. I’m glad you saved that lovely painting and now giving it the honors it deserves. How wonderful are memories!
Lovely haiku. I adore it. It reminds me of one of Basho’s
Where the ring of the temple bell lingers on the flower. Yours is in that league. Lovely. Thanks.