See how the moment flies

Following the reading of the poetical work Grief is the thing with feathers by Max Portman, the consideration of the role of time healing all wounds and slowly inexorably changing perspective through it’s process; I reread through my mum’s poetry. This is a poem taken from my mum’s journal mid 1970s. It is similar to Zen poetry in that it captures something uncapturable: the moment, truth, time and being.

Black rain by Zen Master Dogen (1200-1253)
A profound poem I return to, first read in Colombia in 1996.

Studio note : Black rain

It resonated, as I use meditation as part of my process. It also reflects discussions on meditation I had with mum, who was a lifetime practitioner. I am currently collaging her poem onto tissue paper and board, reconsidering the flow of the words. I am exploring the flight of the moment and an abstracted fluid representation and expression of this theme.