A Touch Of Blossom

"Explores the art of John Singer Sargent in the context of nineteenth-century botany, gynecology, literature, and visual culture. Argues that the artist was elaborating both a period poetics of homosexuality and a new sense of subjectivity, anticipating certain aspects of artistic modernism"--Provided by publisher.

An entertaining adventure in the Newbery Medal–winning author’s series starring “a lively, likable family” (School Library Journal). Junior Blossom has set out to test his brand-new invention, a coyote trap. How on earth does he end up lost in a cave with Mad Mary, a.k.a. “the Vulture Lady,” while his family attempts to find him in this suspenseful and sidesplitting Blossom Family sequel.

Cherry Blossom Epiphany - the poetry and philosophy of a flowering tree - a selection, translation and lengthy explication of 3000 haiku, waka, senryû and kyôka about a major theme from I.P.O.O.H. (In Praise Of Olde Haiku)by robin d. gill 1. Haiku -Translation from Japanese to English 2. Japanese poetry - 8c-20c - waka, haiku and senryû 3. Natural History - flowering cherries 4. Japan - Culture - Edo Era 5. Nonfiction - Literature 6. Translation - applied 7. You tell me! If the solemn yet happy New Year's is the most important celebration of Japanese (Yamato) ethnic culture, and the quiet aesthetic practice of Moon-viewing in the fall the most elegant expression of Pan-Asian Buddhism=religion, the subject of this book, Blossom-viewing - which generally means sitting down together in vast crowds to drink, dance, sing and otherwise enjoy the flowering cherry in full-bloom - is less a rite than a riot (a word originally meaning an 'uproar'). The major carnival of the year, it is unusual for being held on a date that is not determined by astronomy, astrology or the accidents of history as most such events are in literate cultures. It takes place whenever the cherry trees are good and ready. Enjoyed in the flesh, the blossom-viewing, or hanami, is also of the mind, so much so, in fact, that poetry is often credited with the spread of the practice over the centuries from the Imperial courts to the maids of Edo. Nobles enjoyed link-verse contests presided over by famous poet-judges. Hermits hung poems feting this flower of flowers (to say the generic "flower" = hana in Japanese connotes "cherry!") on strips of paper from the branches of lone trees where only the wind would read them. In the Occident, too, flowers embody beauty and serve as reminders of mortality, but there is no flower that, like the cherry blossom, stands for all flowers. Even the rose, by any name, cannot compare with the sakura in depth and breadth of poetic trope or viewing practice. In Cherry Blossom Epiphany, Robin D. Gill hopes to help readers experience, metaphysically, some of this alternative world. Haiku is a hyper-short (17-syllabet or 7-beat) Japanese poem directly or indirectly touching upon seasonal phenomena, natural or cultural. Literally millions of these ku have been written, some, perhaps, many times, about the flowering cherry (sakura), and the human activity associated with it, blossom-viewing (hanami). As the most popular theme in traditional haiku (haikai), cherry-blossom ku tend to be overlooked by modern critics more interested in creativity expressed with fresh subjects; but this embarrassment of riches has much to offer the poet who is pushed to come up with something, anything, different from the rest and allows the editor to select from what is, for all practical purposes, an infinite number of ku. Literary critics, take note: Like Rise, Ye Sea Slugs! (2003) and Fly-ku! (2004), this book not only explores new ways to anthologize poetry but demonstrates the practice of multiple readings (an average of two per ku) as part of a composite translation turned into an object of art by innovative clustering. Book-collectors might further note that while Cherry Blossom Epiphany may not be hardback, it takes advantage of the many symbols included with Japanese font to introduce design ornamentation (the circle within the circle, the reverse (Buddhist) swastika, etc.) hitherto not found in English language print. It is a one-of-a-kind work of design by the author.

All her life, Gwyn has lived in a land suspended in eternal autumn—but her heart calls out to the Land of Spring. Leaves don’t fall when she’s around; they flourish instead, and cherry blossoms follow in her wake. The only way to leave the Land of Autumn, is by having the devil of the Ink Lake accept your offering—the very devil who steals Other Season Girls to feast on their bones—and only then, he will allow a soul to leave his season. But no one’s offering has ever been accepted. Except for Gwyn’s. Yet still, Autumn is trapping her and she cannot leave. Desperate to escape, Gwyn attracts the attention of a being she should not, and when her path crosses that of the devil’s, he’s nothing she thought he would be. Beautiful. Soft-spoken. A broken man haunted by nightmares and guilt and death. Gwyn has a choice to make. To either remain trapped forever. Or to risk it all and free the devil from his cage.

Short-listed for the 2012 Pacific Northwest Young Readers Choice Award and for the 2011 Hackmatack Children’s Choice Award (When the Cherry Blossoms Fell) This special bundle contains all of Jennifer Maruno’s Cherry Blossom novels about the internment of Japanese-Canadians, viewed through the eyes of nine-year-old Michiko Minagawa. Includes: When the Cherry Blossoms Fell Nine-year-old Michiko bids her father goodbye. She doesn’t know the government has ordered all Japanese-born men out of the province. Ten days later, her family joins hundreds of Japanese-Canadians on a train to the interior of B.C. She must face local prejudice, the worst winter in forty years, and her first Christmas without her father. Cherry Blossom Winter After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, ten-year-old Michiko’s family’s possessions are confiscated and they are sent to a small community. After a former Asahi baseball star becomes her new teacher, life gets better. Baseball fever hits town, and when Michiko challenges the adults to a game with her class, the whole town turns out. Cherry Blossom Baseball — NEW! After her family is forced to move by Canada’s racist wartime policies, Michiko is the only Japanese kid at school. One nice thing is that she’s a hit at the local baseball tryouts. There’s just one problem: everyone thinks she’s a boy. What is she to do when they find her out — do as she’s told and quit, or pitch like never before? “Maruno brings to life this tragic part of Canadian history while showing that, among the poverty and loss experienced by the internees, strong communities were still able to grow.” — Quill & Quire

“Dr. Carnavale? We have him all comfortable now if you’d like to come with me.” She looked up, the dazed and bruised expression still there after an hour of fear and confusion, hands clenched tightly on her lap. Linda, the head ICU nurse, had seen her over the years; but she looked smaller now, dignified even in her flounced denim skirt and peasant blouse, her gray shoulder-length hair pinned back with barrettes centered with turquoise stones. She stood carefully. Linda lightly held her arm and guided her down the hall. They turned into the room, and even though she knew what she would see, despair settled on her at the sight of the tubes and monitors. There he lay, his beautiful white hair still thick with waves, his eyelashes surprisingly black. “As the doctor told you, he’s comfortable, and nothing will happen until you say so. If you’d like, you could go home until your children arrive,” pushing a chair closer for her even as she said it and moving a table closer so she could reach the tissues and ice water. “There’s a blanket here, and feel free to lay on the other bed if you like. We’ll be right down the hall if you need us.” She found his left hand with both of hers and laid her forehead against them. “I’m so sorry, my darling. I know I promised. It’s just until the children get here. I didn’t want you all stiff and cold when they came. Don’t be mad. I love you.” Oh how she wished it was a dream, that she’d wake up and hear him, “Baby girl, I’m here. Where are you?” Fifty-five years—how could it be, how could it possibly be—since the day she first saw him.