How do we distill an idea? Simply let the essence of a moment rise above the noise of our hectic lives. Purify through process. Centering, being precise, in the moment.

About four years ago, I started writing haikus. I was trying to feel the texture of my existence, time felt slick, like it was slipping away relentlessly. I was so busy, I wasn’t remembering things and I wasn’t tracking. I wrote 365 haikus that first year. I proposed a haiku a day in hopes that it would anchor my experience.

Each one was a remark on something I was sparked by each day, however small. Reading some of these haikus now, I don’t always remember what inspired them exactly but each one echoes some sort of memory or feeling. An essential pure, impression.

Here is one from last autumn.

skirts of yellow fans
gingkos surrender today
leaving pewter limbs

Without specificity, haikus feel somehow transcendent in their simplicity. When we don’t tell the whole story, we don’t dictate the perception of someone who might read it. This is true of drawing and painting as well. Can there be just enough information so that the audience can encounter it in their own way? DISTILLATION.

Until next week…if you don’t have time for anything else, get a little journal that fits in your pocket and a pen you love. Make a quick sketch, write a single word or maybe a haiku. Track your experience in the simplest way.

What sort of connectivity does this generate? CREATE.