Joel Weishaus

Browsing a bookstore in Tokyo,
I happened upon R.H. Blyth's haiku translations.
The haiku captured something I had sensed while living
in the mountains; but even in midst of the busy capitol city:
an inconspicuous shrine, a smooth-scalped monk, a bow, a feeling
of deep connectiveness between humans and nonhuman why
I continue to study this tradition and write in its form.
Now, experimenting
digitally with word/image relationships, haiga is a natural place for me to set forth.


"Moving Toward Haiga" shares a strategy that preserves the spirit of wabi, elegant simplicity,
programming words to randomly appear and disappear around an image on a background
that reminds us of the Void from which all creation appears. As with time (life), space
(death) also becomes a factor, as does ma, a concept that moves toward
"a boundary situation at the edge of thinking and the edge of all
processes of locating things by naming and distinguishing."
Most important of all, these haiga are a beginning
that foretells the illusion of an end.

*R.B. Pilgrim.