Changing Leaves

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    CHANGINGL E A V E SPoems by LORI L. GRADY

    Photography by ELSA FLORES

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    Human beings, as a g

    unless they find some way

    out and find someone who

    emotional way. We all loo

    our stories.

    For me, words and m

    place where we are all one.

    front of my bathroom mirr

    as I went along. It seems o

    and poetry. I cant even re

    my mouth as water from a

    For my partner Elsa

    Born in the United States t

    spoke only Spanish as a ch

    an alien, not understanding

    she began to read, write a

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    as if it suddenly took on th

    pleasure of being there, se

    made me feel, and then see

    share with someone than g

    I dont know if her lo

    purposely chosen a non-ve

    by her extraordinary skill a

    things she was saying. She

    to write a story about each

    it exposes its essence. She

    else how she sees the world

    I have seen her photos hund

    the composition, even pond

    feel and yet never, until thi

    to understand her message

    Another interesting

    to put my poetry with her When I started looking at t

    make, I was amazed at how

    Most of my poetry, especi

    times Ive sat down with th

    fail miserably. They end u

    problem, one that would not even be recognized until adulthooddyslexia. When

    she was in school in the seventies this word didnt even exist in the consciousness

    of modern society.

    So embarrassed and frustrated by her inability to communicate, she would

    hide behind her friends or bully people into submission. At the very least, no one

    would make fun of her when she spoke. Perhaps this is why the voice she chose was

    photography.

    We were sitting on our couch, cozy at home one evening, discussing our ideas

    for this book, when she began to describe to me the reasons she took all of the pictures

    we have hanging on our walls. This one I took for you, because its a place that meant

    something to you. This one started out as the cheesy, dilapidated old boat picture

    everyone has, but when I printed it, I realized it was really a portrait of your Aunt

    Faye. This one is more for me, because I was trying to capture what I saw that day

    we walked at the lake. Bingo, I thought. All this time I had known her and never

    realized just how much she was reallyexpressing with her photographs, especiallyher personal favorites. Its similar to someone who is blind developing such a keen

    sense of sound they can pick up on things no one else can hear.I thought back to the day we were walking on that trail. We talked throughout

    the whole walk that day about what we were seeing and feeling. A lot of it was just

    fun stuff you say, look at that tree, it looks like a hunched over old man from this

    angle, that kind of stuff. I remember her pointing out the way the light was hitting

    this tree, but when I now looked at the picture shed taken of what she saw, it was

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    only been in the last two days that I found out this is how Haikus are supposed to

    be written. Its a Zen Buddhists way of coming to an understanding of man and

    nature.

    Perhaps this is why our works came together so effortlessly. They are just

    two different forms of the same process- trying to capture the essence of nature. It

    could also be as simple as the reason we both fell in love in the first place. We are

    two minds that think similarly about the world around us. Whatever the reasons,

    this has been a wonderfully fulfilling and rewarding experience. Truly the end result

    has shown to be more than the sum of its parts. This is why we have tried to present

    the end product in a very simple and Zen-like structure. We hope you enjoy the end

    result as much as we loved creating it.

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    CHL E

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    Ligh

    A liv

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    Haiku

    Heavenly bodies

    Swirling clouds of hot gases

    Beauty created

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    W

    I sh

    Kn

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    My world

    Swirls together generations

    Whittles youth into future

    Clings to memory to

    Whisper who I am

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    Summ

    Dis

    W

    T

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    The Tao of Music

    The universe fills my essence

    With the presence of violins

    Weeping Mozart

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    I g

    An

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    Regret

    Mournful reflections

    Crumble deep within

    Creeping among shadows

    Slipping upon murky, mildew morning

    Decay inside the bottled sands

    Of memories

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    A bu

    Provokin

    Ev

    Ins

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    Dulled Senseless

    I had been lonely for so long

    I barely noticed

    The barren landscape of my soul

    The strongest tendrils still searching

    For a flood of affection

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    Hang

    F

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    Alone in the mist

    Foggy afternoons

    Grope my subconscious

    Seeking an eternity of

    Cold gray eyes

    To laugh at my frailty