Kazros つれづれ スケッチ
プロフィール

- kazros
- 名古屋生まれの名古屋育ち。絵との付き合いは、油絵を始めた高校時代。仙台にいた頃は友人と木版画に熱中。社会人になって遠ざかったものの、退職を期に再スタート。水彩、油絵と、もと来た道を楽しみながら続けています。
2025-07-01
駅への近道で
2025-06-01
いい夏が来て欲しい
去年の夏のスケッチです。仙台に出かけた時はたいてい寄るこおにしている、奥松島と呼ばれるところにある野蒜海岸です。小高い丘に登ると、西には点在する松島の島々、東には海越しに石巻の街が遠望できます。訪れたのは震災後2度目でした。高い防潮堤が延々と続き辺りも整備されて、かつてあった背の高い松原はなくなっていました。復興工事の騒音は去って、波静かな海から強い風が防潮堤を吹き抜けていました。
イスラエルのガザ市民への攻撃は続いています。この3日間で500人が死亡したとニュースで聞きました。食料も入らず ガザを人の住めない土地にしようとしているみたいです。また、ウクライナ、ロシアの停戦は少しも進んでいないようです。それだけでなく 一般市民への攻撃は絶え間なく続いているようです。持てる側が戦争を有利に終わらせようと、破壊と死者を増やしているように見えます。 (05/19)
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Expecting a good summer to come
This is a sketch from last summer. It depicts Nobiru Beach, located in an area called Oku-Matsushima, a place I almost always visit whenever I go to Sendai. When you climb a small hill there, you can see the scattered islands of Matsushima to the west, and in the distance to the east, the city of Ishinomaki beyond the sea. It was my second visit since the earthquake and tsunami disaster. A tall seawall now stretches endlessly along the coast, and the area has been redeveloped. The tall pine groves that once stood there are gone. The noise of the reconstruction work has faded, and a strong wind now blows through the seawall from the calm sea.
The attacks on civilians in Gaza by Israel continue. I heard on the news that 500 people have died in the past three days. With food supplies blocked, it seems as if they are trying to make Gaza an uninhabitable land. Meanwhile, the ceasefire between Ukraine and Russia appears to be making no progress. Not only that, but attacks on civilians seem to be continuing without pause. It looks as though those with power are trying to end the war to their advantage by escalating destruction and increasing the number of deaths. ( 05/19 with help of ChatGTP)
2025-05-01
期待はできるの?
2025-04-01
大らかなアメリカはどこに
私が住む辺りから見える 今ごろの大山(おおやま)です。背景に丹沢山系と真っ白に輝く富士山を携えて堂々として見えます。毎年2月になって街で冷たい雨が降ると、決まって大山は雪化粧して 春が近いのを知らせてくれます。今年は2月に雨がほとんど降らなかったせいで、3月にずれ込みました。
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Where Is Generous America Headed?
President Trump signs executive orders one after another. It feels like watching a Wild West drama, where he wields a handgun called "tariffs" with overwhelming force.
I often check the weather using the site Earth, which provides stunning visualizations of global weather patterns and forecasts. Predicting the path of a typhoon is especially valuable. However, a message displayed on the site the other day was alarming. Earth relies on data from a NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) supercomputer, but the Trump administration has begun cutting NOAA’s engineers and budget. The message warned that current services might not be able to continue. Something unsettling is happening rapidly. Where is the generous and once-respected America headed?
Meanwhile, this is Mt. Oyama in early spring as seen from my area. It stands dignified, with the Tanzawa Mountains in the background and Mount Fuji gleaming pure white. In February, when cold rain falls in the city, Mt. Oyama is often dusted with snow, a quiet reminder that spring is near. This year, however, February saw almost no rain—it arrived late, in March.
2025-03-01
希望が見えてくる
イスラエルとハマスの停戦が決まったころ、ガザの報道写真に惹きつけられました。歩いて北部に帰るパレスチナの人たちが写っていました。最初に飛び込んできたのは一面の廃墟の光景です。局所的に破壊された街の様子はこれまで何度も見ていました。しかし今度のような広範囲に破壊された街の様子は初めてでした。こんなにまで破壊されたのか、戦争とはこういうものなのか。破壊の方法は違っても、80年前の広島や長崎を思い出してしまいました。
続いて目にとまったのは、大きな荷物を背負い 北に向かって歩く大勢の人たちです。自分たちが住んでいた家に向かっているのだと想像しますが、辺りの様子から家はたぶん破壊されているでしょう。崩れて瓦礫になった家に住めるのだろうか。想像するだけでも痛々しいですが、それでも帰ろうとするのはなぜでしょうか。ちりぢりになっていた人々が少しずつ戻ってきて、笑ったり悲しんだり、お互い励まし合いながら生活できるコミュニティーがあるからのようなきがします。そんなことを考えさせてくれました。
English: Hope of Gaza
Around the time the Israeli-Hamas ceasefire was announced, I found myself drawn to press photos from Gaza. One image, in particular, stood out—Palestinians walking back to the north. The first thing that came to mind was the sight of abandoned ruins. I had seen images of destroyed streets before, but this was the first time I had witnessed such widespread devastation. Was it truly this obliterated? What does war look like up close? Though the circumstances were different, it reminded me of Hiroshima and Nagasaki 80 years ago.
Next, I noticed the large number of people walking north, carrying heavy luggage on their backs. I imagined they were returning to the homes they once lived in, but from what I could see, those homes had likely been reduced to rubble. Can one even live in a place that has collapsed? The thought alone was painful. And yet, why were they still trying to go home?
It felt as though, despite everything, a community was slowly coming back together. People who had been displaced were returning—bringing with them laughter, sorrow, and resilience—supporting one another as they rebuilt their lives. That thought stayed with me.