Issa’s cat dines out – part 3…

catch of the day
catch of the day

Caught red-pawed!

Issa’s cat is caught!
But a cat may look a king
right in the eye.

Poetry thanks again to Tom Radcliffe in the comments! There is also an interesting commentary there if you want to check it out.

On another note, you can see the adventures of quite a different sort of animal when a camel gets feisty with a bucket on cute overload. It’s pretty amusing – don’t forget the hover text is more than half the fun!

This sequence now available en français on Le 12!

Image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer

Issa’s cat dines out – part 2…

carpe diem!
carpe diem!

Best not leave the kitchen unattended with an open door…

I’m pretty sure that means “seize the carp” lol

A chef’s inattention
is a cat’s invitation.
Carpe piscem!

Thanks to Tom Radcliffe in the comments for the poetic intervention!

image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer

Issa’s cat dines out… part 1

"all good things..."
"good things come..."

There can be some distractions on the road looking for love… and Issa’s cat is fairly easily distracted.
The scent of fish is strong near the cafe by the wharf and a cat could score a fine dinner if his timing is right! Just waiting for the perfect opportunity to get something a bit tastier than fishbones…

A fragrant fish
piques that most feline feature:
curiosity!

A new haiku to accompany the image thanks to Tom Radcliffe in the comments!

image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer

another character study…

what could he possibly be thinking about?
what could he possibly be thinking about?

I am still thinking about the webcomic and the characters that need to be developed for it. Here is another glimpse.

For a look at how it’s really done, check out this link to one of my favourites as his cute and fuzzy cast takes another visit to the theatre – always good for a laugh! http://www.abominable.cc/2009/05/20/a-deal-with-the-devil/

image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer

Bodhidharma…

Damo meditates with a cup a tea
DaMo meditates with a cup a tea

Bodhidharma, also known as DaMo in Chinese, is famous for many things. Born in India around the year 440, he converted to Buddhism and traveled to China where he is credited with introducing Zen Buddhism (called Chan in Chinese). According to tradition, he spent much time at the Shaolin Temple establishing the famed martial arts practiced there and also managing to meditate in a cave for 9 years.

During his years of meditation, he fell asleep (once!) and in his determination to keep it from happening again, he cut off his eyelids. Where his eyelids fell, the first tea plants sprang up to help him (and all the rest of us lesser mortals) stay awake while enjoying the pleasures of tea at the same time. (Well, the pleasure part isn’t mentioned in the histories.) This explains why representations of Bodhidharma always show him with bulging, lidless eyes.

Other ways of telling that a painting you’re looking at is of DaMo is that he is either crossing a river on a hollow reed (how he was said to have crossed the Yangtze), sitting in meditation in a cave and usually facing a wall, or often, with one shoe on a stick over his shoulder. The story goes that some time after DaMo’s death, an official said that he had met him in the mountains heading back west and saying that he was returning to India. He was carrying a staff on which hung a single sandal. The monks back at the temple got curious and decided to open up the tomb. They found just one sandal inside.

Much of this content is common lore regarding DaMo/Bodhidharma but a lot of information can be found in the preface to The Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma translated by Red Pine.

image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer

as lakewater rises into mist…

misty lake
misty lake

I was thinking about this poem as I created this image. It’s one of my favourite Rumi poems translated by Coleman Barks. It’s in a little volume I have, called The Glance.

The singer sings about love, until
the Friend appears in the doorway.

Kitchen smoke drifts up into clouds
and becomes a thousand-year-old wine.

I am here, not reckoning the credit
accumulated or future speculation.

I am the vineyard and the barrel
where the grapes are crushed, the

entire operation, whose transaction
pours this glass of wine, this moment,

this poem. A man stumbles by with
baggage, papers from the house, regret

and wishing, not knowing which to
tend to. Neither. After you see

the face, concerns change, as
lakewater rises into mist.

(If you click on the picture, you can see it larger.)

image (cc) 2009 Hilary Farmer