Where Is The Snow?

January 29, 2023January 30, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

A hushed cityscape
under a blanket of snow
gift from unseen moon

NYC is on track to break the record for the longest stretch without snow.

This is unsettling, and so disappointing. There’s nothing like a winter wonderland in the city, especially when it reaches snow day level measurements. You get to hunker down, breathe a little easier, be grateful for the the cozy warmth of shelter, cook up a feast of soup, or chili, or whatever else may take a good long time on top of the stove, and drink an excessive amount of coffee in the morning / wine late into the evening. It’s a day for reading, watching a classic movie, sitting in front of the window and watching the soft landing of snowflakes. The length of the day relaxes and stretches itself, allowing you to embrace the slow tick of the minutes — and when the middle of the night finally arrives, you get to witness the light of the unseen moon reflect off the snow, illuminating the hushed cityscape for as far as the eye can see. Bring on the snow, and let the snow days roll!

My photo above was featured in the “Blizzard” issue of Nightingale & Sparrow.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

Depends on the Day

January 27, 2023January 27, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

A lone table
in a grove of trees.
The sun is shining
upon the richest
of blue skies.

What shall I serve?
Or be served?

What music is playing?

Everyone is there.
Or am I just wondering
why so and so
didn’t show?

How long will we linger?

The sun goes down.
Our feast is done.
We forgot to take a picture
again.
This is what I conjure.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

This Gray Day Today Will Not Do

January 26, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

This gray day today
will not do
Piecing together memories
of summer scents and colors
connecting the blooms
and diving in

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

Texture and Calm

January 23, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

It’s Monday morning. Start of a long week, is what I was thinking. But I will scratch that. Just: start of the week, and it will be a good one. There will be texture, and there will be calm. Going to make a list, and keep it rational. I will seek out the texture of things, make time to process and consider, and I will create calm. Here we go (calmly).

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

Birds in the Bright Blue

January 22, 2023January 22, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

A late afternoon walk on the beach. The sights, sounds and scents of the ocean always bring a sense of wonder, relief, and replenishment. On this particular day, birds filled the sky, chaotically flowing this way and that. Just had to take a seat on the sand, look up, and enjoy the show.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

Theater of Fall

January 21, 2023January 21, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

An extended run at the theater of Fall. On a cold morning, when the park is mostly empty, especially in its deeper reaches and hidden away nooks of tree groves and patches of leaf strewn grounds, you can walk upon this stage and give a listen to the performances of the past. The curtain may have fallen, but the show must go on, at the theater of Fall.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

A Refuge of Silence

January 15, 2023January 15, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

A refuge of silence, for the ice, for the wind, and for all those who follow the winding trail and find it.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit

It Always Comes Back to the Sea

January 14, 2023January 14, 2023 | Jeffrey Yamaguchi

Not the ocean. When I was there, it was clearly not that, but looking at the photo later, I realized it could be. It always comes back to the sea.

Also, the fog was rolling forth, revealing only a hint of the over there. That’s a solid representation of how I was feeling both then, and now. Of course it’s only been a few days, though I imagine it will remain this way for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, carrying on with more writing in 2023.

— Jeffrey Yamaguchi | @hiddenexhibit