
I owned many of Bill Higginson’s books, most well thumbed and note-laden, and when his name appeared during one of my Internet searches, a bulb just went off. I emailed him in 2002, he graciously responded, and over the next 4 years, after journeys down many side canyons, we assembled the project that became Butterfly Dreams. It remains the single accomplishment in my life that I am most proud of, and it would simply not exist were it not for Bill.
Pity Bill!
I’m sure he will receive credits in his next life for his patience with me during this crafting.
Bill: “This combination simply doesn’t fit together—the haiku you quoted is incorrectly translated and when fixed, makes no sense with this image.”
Michael: “But the subject matter is such a good match…can’t we use the incorrect translation?”
Bill: “Groan” (reaching for Maalox).
And so on and so on.
Bill always won those discussions, and rightfully so. He was patient with my ignorance, but unyielding in his pursuit of accuracy and purity in his chosen genre. (And no, we did not use any “incorrect” translations…)
Bill passed away this afternoon. His wife, partner, and fellow-poet Penny Harter was at his side, singing to him as he left. May we all be so blessed.