Brandy Bockewitz is a junior English Writing major.
When she isn't writing essays, fiction and poetry, she enjoys writing haiku as a form of relaxation and meditation.
See Brandy's Essay:
Garry Gay: A New Vision of Photography and Haiku
And Then, Nothing
To my mom, who gave me life
Throughout my collection, "And Then, Nothing," readers can witness personal subjective perspectives on life. Most of the selected haiku focuses on the actualities of reality such as life, death, and everything in between. I prefer to write haiku with subjects that everyone can experience, not only a small selected audience. Instead, by writing haiku based on reality, all readers can see topics through my own visions, while still creating their own.
"And Then, Nothing" refers to the idea of that moment where one is waiting for something to happen. He or she is so excited about this something...and then it happens. Afterwards, there is nothing but the memory.
To me, my writings do not lie, but only help tell the truth.
—Brandy K. Bockewitz, author
While reading Brandy's haiku collection, I noticed a theme develop as the haiku progress. I noticed that Brandy tends to be analytical about situations which occur on a day-to-day basis. To notice these situations arise takes a perceptive mind, which she possesses; yet, being perceptive is a common trait and nothing to boast of. Brandy has developed a way to not only understand the significance of life's serenity, but has found a way to plunge underneath the superficial beauty and give a narrative of what others fail to understand. Many halt and bask in the other-worldly feeling when an inspirational moment manifests, yet Brandy can describe the moment into its dark, subliminally beautiful form.
a flash of yellow
and then, nothing
I enjoy this haiku, as it can be interpreted multiple ways depending upon the reader. One could read this haiku and envision a somber scene of a person watching a stormy sky. Another may develop an image of what may had become seconds before death. This haiku relies upon the subjectivity of the reader, thus evoking a more personal experience.
—Jacob M. Poshard, friend