Paul Gauguin

As a writer, I have lived in a black and white world for years. The pages of books are black and white. The page I write on is black and white. I came to color only slowly when I took up the study of art about fifteen years ago. 

The complexity of color is hard to understand. There are shades of color within shades of color. Black and white is easier to comprehend.  Black and white makes life simpler. Color adds layers upon layers of mystery and depth.  

Autumn is here — my favorite season. A time of reflection. The colors of the leaves are shifting and changing. The greens that we have lived with for months are fading from the world. Now we see yellows, reds and browns. Soon winter will come and we will be back to black and white, waiting for spring to sprout its vibrant greens.

What is the color of your life? Light? Bright? Sparkling? Deep? Dim? Dark?  What is the color of your soul? Yellow? Red? Blue? Purple? Brown? What is the color of your heart? Love? Hate? Indifferent? Compassionate? Discouraged? Hopeful? How do you paint the world?  Gray?  Black and White? Turquoise? Lavender? Rose colored?

Harley King

While I saw my first robin this year over a month ago, I am still reminded with each new sighting about the importance of the seasons.  The seasons are the touchstones of our lives.  They remind us of who we are and what we are all about.  This year has been a particularly hard winter where I live and people delighted in the coming of spring.  The seasons measure the passing of time.  

Our lives are also like the seasons.  Our youth is the spring of our lives — full of energy, excitement and enthusiasm.  We seek to discover the meaning of life and the world into which we are born.  Why are we are?  Who do we want to become?

In the summer of our lives, we settle into the world, mating and raising a family.  We find employment to pay our bills and hopefully, provide us with a sense of purpose.  The questions of our youth become less important as we are in pursuit of life's abundance.  Like the squirrels we are finding nuts and burying them for the coming winter.

In the autumn of our lives, we return to the melancholy of our youth.  We think again about the meaning of life and our purpose for being here.  We question and challenge the decisions we have made.  Have we settled for too little?  Have we given in too easily to the demands of life?  If our time in this life is limited, what changes do we want to make?

In the winter of our years, we know the end is near.  We can feel the coming death in our bones.  We will return to the soil from which we came.  We watch our friends and companions of this life pass on to a world beyond our grasp.  We live in memory of what has been — hopeful that our passing will be blessed.

The seasons have also been a touchstone of my creative life — beginning with the wild and crazy hopes and dreams of spring.  I wanted to be a poet and a novelist — a rich and famous world traveler.  In the summer, I chose to find a job to support a family.  Writing was relegated to the early morning hours while everyone slept.  In the autumn of my years, I have written thousands of poems and published little.  I am more interested in the process of creating then in fame and fortune.  Winter is around the corner and I find myself also drawing and creating art.  I wonder what will happen to my creative work after I am gone.  Will it disappear?  Or will it find a home somewhere?

In 1977, I published Winter Silence, my first book of haiku to celebrate the birth of my daughter.  The book was organized by the seasons.  In 2014, I read and recorded the haiku from that book.  Enjoy this short reading.

May your heart rejoice 

with the coming of robins in the spring.

Andrew Wyeth

Late Fall
(1981)

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter.  Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."

— Andrew Wyeth

American Artist

1917 - 2009

What is your favorite season.  My favorite, autumn, is coming to an end.  Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees.  The squirrels are burying the last of the nuts.  The geese are flying south.  Bare branches now reveal the sky.  Death hides around the corner — waiting for winter to pounce.  We have had a good autumn.  Warm, gentle and full of life.  Not too much rain, just enough to keep the creeks flowing.

How do the seasons effect you and your art?  Do you produce more creative work in one season or another?  Do the seasons enrich your art?  Can you taste the winds of autumn?  Are you counting your blessings?  Has the harvest been abundant?  Are you thankful for what you have?

Photo by Harley King
(2011)

Henry Moore

"The observation of nature is part of an artist's life."

— Henry Moore

English Sculptor

1898 - 1986

How much is your art connected to nature?  Do you spend time observing the shapes and patterns within nature?  Do you study nature and learn from it?  

When I spent seven years writing and studying haiku, I spent time connecting with the physical world around me — listening to nature.  I would take walks and write haiku.  Even those of us who live in cities are a part of nature.  Here is a haiku that I wrote while walking around Chicago.

downtown Chicago

     a squirrel buries apples —

          warm autumn sun

As creative leaders, we must look for inspiration in nature whether we write novels, paint abstract paintings or compose music.  Nature has much to teach us about ourselves and the world in which we live.  Watch the rabbits playing in your backyard.  Enjoy the beauty of a sunset.  Take a walk and feel the snowflakes on your cheeks.

Oval With Points
(1968 - 1970)

Ralph Waldo Emerson

"When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive."

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

American Poet/Essayist

1803 - 1882

I am fortunate that I have a yard that is full of birds, squirrels and rabbits.  And occasionally, a deer or a family of ducks have found the time to visit.  And our yard has maple trees, a large old pin oak and a few blue spruce.  Even in a metropolitan city I can find nature close at hand.  As creative leaders, we can and should find inspiration in nature.  I am amazed at how strong and resilient Mother Nature is.  If you have ever observed grass poking up through a crack in the concrete, you understand what I mean.  Long after the last man or woman has passed onto a better place, Mother Nature will still be there.

For me, the ironic thing is that human beings talk about nature as if we are not a part of it, only observers.  In fact, we are very much a part of nature.  And contrary to the opinion of many, Mother Nature is stronger and tougher than man.  I remember reading a study of overcrowded deer on an island.  The overcrowding generated unusual behavior among the deer such as increased fighting, rape and homosexuality.  Nature sought to reduce the overpopulation through disease.  In the end nature will win so we need to enjoy it while we can.

Photograph by Johari King

As artists and writers, we need to find joy, solace and inspiration in nature.  We need to enjoy the sunsets and the sunrises.  We need to appreciate the changing of seasons from fall to winter to spring.  The squirrels and rabbits in my backyard bring me pleasure and laughter with their play.  I have seen rabbits play leap frog, jumping over each other.  I have watched squirrels chasing each other up a tree.  And you will find both the rabbits and the squirrels in my haiku and my poetry.


Here are a few of my haiku.  More of my haiku can be found at my website.


downtown Chicago
    a squirrel buries apples —
        warm autumn sun




Illinois farmland —
    pheasant scoots across the snow
        the pickup heads home




early morning —
    two robins play leap frog
        in the shadows




on the corn tassels
    a flock of purple martins. . . 
        summer sunset

Morihei Ueshiba

"Contemplate the workings of this world . . . . Study how water flows in a valley stream, smoothly and freely. . . . Everything — even mountains, rivers, plants and trees — should be your teacher."

— Morihei Ueshiba

Founder of Aikido

Japanese Author

1883 - 1969

Dag Hammarskjold

"What is one to do on a bleak day but drift for a while through the streets — drift with the stream."

— Dag Hammarskjold

Swedish Diplomat/Author

1905 - 1961

Drifting is an art that many of us have never learned.  In our fast pace world where we seek to climb the ladder of success and produce more and more artistic work, we never stop and rest.  Even our vacations are full of doing.  We joke about going back to work in order to rest from our vacation.

In farming, there is a concept of letting the field lay fallow for a year — not to plant any crops.  The soil needs a break in order to replenish itself.  And the same is true of artists and writers.  We must learn to rest — to drift without direction or purpose, to lay fallow in order to replenish and restore our souls.  We must learn to enjoy a warm autumn afternoon simply for the sake of enjoying.  

Albert Camus

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower."

— Albert Camus

French Novelist

1913 - 1960

My wife and I were sitting on the back porch today enjoying the autumn morning.  Autumn is my favorite month.  If I had to rank the seasons from most favorite to least, here is my ranking:  Autumn, Spring, Winter, Summer.  What is your favorite season?  As artists, writers and creative leaders, we are affected by the seasons.  I studied and wrote exclusively haiku for seven years and the key to understanding haiku lies in the seasons.   Many of us have lost touch with the seasons.  We live in heated and air-conditioned buildings where the environment is controlled.  The further we get from the farms and the fields, the more we lose touch with the individual nature of each season.  I like winter because it cleans the cobwebs out of my brain.  I love spring because of the renewal and rebirth.  Summer with its heat overwhelms me.  My brain melts once the temperature gets above 75 degrees.  Autumn, though, brings me back to myself and I reflect on the importance of life.

This quote from Camus, the French novelist, caught me by surprise this morning.  The phrase, "Every leaf is a flower," makes me see the world anew and I find it to be true.

Paul Gauguin

"Color!  What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams."

— Paul Gauguin
French Artist

1848 - 1903

As a writer, I have lived in a black and white world.  The pages of books are black and white.  The page I write on is black and white.  I have come to color only slowly when I took up the study of art about a decade ago.  The complexity of color is hard to understand.  Since the impressionists, color has been celebrated and let free.  The old Dutch masters were darker, deeper.  What is the color of your life?  Bright?  Sparkling?  Deep?  Dank?  Dark?  Autumn is coming — my favorite season.  A time of reflection.  The colors shift and darken.  The greens fade from the world.  We see yellows, reds and browns.  Then winter will be here and we are back to black and white, waiting for spring to sprout.