In 2013, I began sending haikus on collaged postcards to Kaoru Ishibashi, the musician known as Kishi Bashi. Here’s a selection of these cards (and one haiku):
Sarah Cadorette <sarah.cadorette@gmail.com>
Sep 12, 2013, 10:00 PM
to:
Dear Kaoru,
There is a type of cicada called Magicicada--no joke--that only emerges every 17 years, but when they spring to life (pun intended) in the late spring, their humming lasts the whole summer, until the earth rests in winter.
The other night, I laid staring at this girl's dark curls, wondering if I would recognize the twilight when the cicadas stopped humming.
I am madly in love with this girl, and every time I see her "Manchester" immediately starts playing in my head and stays there until I fall asleep. Sometimes, if I wake up next to her, it's still there.
I can go through my music and know which time in my life I listened to that album or artist on repeat, and why, and what their lyrics meant to me (oh, the misinterpretations I must have wrought on the Beatles as a middle schooler!), and you and your music will forever mean to me this moment in my life, when, out of a well of emotional abuse and depression, I met someone who made me cry with happiness.
Have you ever cried with happiness? I just did it for the first time about two weeks ago. I was sitting at work, about to write an email. It was an unassuming Tuesday, yet there are moments, like any of my graduations, I know I will remember in less detail, with less emotion.
She lived in Athens, Georgia, for a while, and speaks very highly of it. I hope you love it as much.
I wanted to write a haiku to express my love and gratitude and utter awe of the performance I saw you perform last night in Boston, but 17 syllables seems a paltry gift when you gave us all so much. So, because I would like to return some of what I feel you have given me with your art and your spirit and your love for your craft and your audience, I would like to send you a series of haikus.
If you send me a mailing address, I will send you postcards with haikus on them. Lots of them. Meaningful and silly in equal abundance.
I hope you're having a beautiful tour filled with seas of smiles and nights of tequila.
Be well,
Sarah Cadorette