Author: kamys

Ghost of Tomoe: Lover and a Woman Samurai Warrior

Another ghost story from Noh plays

When a Buddhist monk from Kiso came across a field near Lake Biwa, he saw a woman crying in front of a little shrine.

When asked why she was crying, the woman told the monk that a famous samurai warrior Yoshinaka, also from Kiso, was enshrined there.  The woman asked the monk to pray for the spirit of Yoshinaka, and left.

That night, when the monk was praying for Yoshinaka, a woman warrior in a fighting attire appeared. 

“I’m Tomoe.  Yoshinaka’s lover as well as his vassal. Here Yoshinaka died on a battlefield.  I was ready to die with him as his lover, but couldn’t.”

“Yoshinaka was deeply wounded.  No hope to survive this battle.  Rather than enduring the shame of being caught by the enemy, it was time to end our lives ourselves, an ultimate way to preserve our honor as samurai warriors.    I was ready to die together with Yoshinaka.”

“But Yoshinaka wouldn’t permit me to die here.  He ordered me to leave him behind and return to our homeland Kiso.  If I refuse his order, Yoshinaka would deny me as his vassal for as long as the next three generations.  It would be the last thing a vassal could bear as a punishment by the master.  What other choice could I have…”

“As his vassal and a samurai warrior, I returned to the battlefield.”

And Tomoe was a fierce, mighty samurai warrior indeed.

She tricked the enemy by stumbling upon a rock in front of her.  When the enemy saw her losing balance and tried to attack her, Tomoe quickly thrust her Naginata (long-handled sword) into the enemy.  No enemies could move forward without falling down and being attacked by her.

“By the time I rushed back to Yoshinaka, he had already killed himself.    I took Yoshinaka’s robe and put it on, hid Yoshinaka’s small sword inside the robe, and fled back to Kiso.” 

Nobody knew what happened to Tomoe afterward.

“My spirit is still here.  I can’t get over the regret that I couldn’t die together with Yoshinaka.  Please pray for me, so that I can rest in peace…”

Kiso Yoshinaka (1154 – 1184) is a real figure in history.  Tomoe, on the other hand, appears only in The Tale of the Heike and Genpei Seisuiki.  Did she really exist?  We have no way of knowing. 

But we can be sure that many samurai warriors both in the Heike clan and the Genji clan must have had their own lovers who felt the same sorrow and regret like Tomoe.  To those spirits, please rest in peace. 

Halloween is coming up.  I haven’t figured out yet why, but there are a lot of ghost stories in Noh, a major form of classical Japanese dance-drama that has been performed since the 14th century.  This month I would like to share with you some of my favorite ghost stories from the Noh plays.

How did you like this Tomoe’s story?

The Terracotta Walrus Faces Once Marvelled Now Look Like Ghosts

Can we no longer build things beautiful?

This unique 8-story building has been standing on the northwest corner of 3rd Avenue and Cherry Street in downtown Seattle for 118 years.

It was originally built as a home to the Arctic Club, a social institution formed by those men who returned to Seattle after “striking it rich” at Klondike Gold Rush.

It is unique because sculptured walrus heads are lined up on the third-floor exterior.

The tusks are long, the creature’s faces look real, and the intricate ornamental decorations are beautiful. “The building was one of the first in Seattle to use off-white terracotta panels over reinforced steel concrete frames as well as colored terracotta in submarine blue and ochre.” (The Arctic Club Hotel website)  When completed, people must have marveled the artistry of the building.    

Over a century later, what do we see?  Neighboring newer buildings are all much much taller, and have shining glass exterior walls, but none has such complex terracotta surfaces anymore. People focus on maximizing the profit of the buildings, asking how efficiently or how cost-effectively they can build it.  Not how beautiful it should be. 

Now these sculptured walrus faces look like ghosts – forgotten, abandoned by us human beings, in the name of progress. 

I wish not to call this progress…    

Ghost of Atsumori

Noh Plays are full of Ghosts

Photo:  “Ichi-no-Tani Battle Map Screen” held by Eisei Bunko, Noh Mask

Story of Noh Play “Atsumori” （敦盛）

Atsumori was only 16 years old when he was killed by Kumagai at the battlefield of Ichi no tani. 

It was not easy even for a fierce samurai worrier of Genji Clan like Kumagai to take the life of a young man who was about the same age as his own son.  Atsumori’s face was so beautiful, and he even had a slight makeup. 

Only after the war was over did Kumagai find out that the boy was Atsumori, Heike’s prominent family member, famous for his talent as a flute player. 

Kumagai, who renounced the world and became a Buddhist priest now called Rensei, was traveling through Ichi no Tani.  One day he heard the beautiful sound of a flute.  It turned out that one of the three grass-cutters was playing it. The guy asked Rensei to recite the prayer of Amitabha Buddha ten times.  To the suspicious Rensei, the guy hinted that he had some connection to Atsumori, and left.

That night, when Rensei was praying for the peace of Atsumori’s spirit, Atsumori’s ghost appeared in his battle attire.  Thanking Rensei for his kind gesture, Atsumori the ghost began dancing, depicting his last day, the battle with Kumagai (now Rensei), and how he had fallen.

After the dance, Atsumori’s ghost addressed Rensei as his close friend, not an enemy, asked Rensei to pray for his soul, and disappeared…

Both Atsumori (Taira no Atsumori 平敦盛 1169 – 1184) and Kumagai (Kumagai Jiro Naozane 熊谷次郎直実 1141 – 1207) are real historical figures.  The battle of Ichi no tani also really happened, and is one of the most famous that is depicted in the Tale of Heike. 

In junior high, the excerpt of this battle was included in our textbook as “Atsumori no Saigo” (The Last Moment of Atsumori).  I used to hate reading classic Japanese because it was so different from the modern spoken Japanese and painfully difficult to understand.  But somehow this tragic story resonated with me, and I can still recite the phrase “Naku naku kubiwo zo kaiten geru (with tears (he) cut the neck). 

Resurrecting Atsumori as a ghost, the playwright Zeami Motokiyo (1363 – 1443) took up this tragedy and turned it to a beautiful Noh play of friendship.  Even though the character is no longer alive and it’s only a play,  I’m somewhat relieved that Kumagai and Atsumori were able to forgo their hatred and make peace with each other. 

Halloween is coming up this year.  I haven’t figured out yet why, but there are a lot of ghost stories in Noh, a major form of classical Japanese dance-drama that has been performed since the 14th century.  This month would like to share with you some of my favorite ghost stories from the Noh plays.

How did you like this Atsumori story?

Enjoy Present Moment

Before all the lives fade

Today I made an ikebana flower arrangement using whatever is left in my tiny backyard.

Sedum… The cluster of pink flowers is at its peak, enjoying the full attention.  In a month or so the cheerful pink will all turn to dull brown.

Lacy hydrangea… The once blue petals are now curled down, showing their backside.  The color once faded away to dull off-white and now has resurrected to dark pink.  Thick leave are still full vivid green.  In a month or so, both flowers and leaves will be shed.

A long lilac branch… Named as “Miss Kim,” this dwarf lilac blooms slightly pinkish flowers in the spring.  Today, all it has are leaves turning the color of almost deep purple.  In a month or so, the leaves will all fall to the ground.

Some are enjoying their youth, some are dwindling, and Some are barely alive.  Which one resembles me?  Definitely not the first.  I must be between the second and the third. 

This arrangement has made me melancholy.  It makes me realize that my time left is limited.  Cherish this moment.

Friendship through Flowers

The Northwest Flower and Garden Festival ended on February 18.  My forsythia, at first had only a couple of flowers blooming, ended up with more blossoms by the time I took it down.  This year the timing was just right!

On Sunday at 6 pm.  The show was over, and it was time to take down the arrangement.  All the Ikebana International members who made arrangements showed up at the booth to take down their own work. 

When I was disassembling my branches, one of the new members, a young man, came up to me. It was his first time to display his arrangement.  I complimented his work.  He thanked me for my words.  Then he said, “What is your yellow flower called?” 

“Forthythia.” I replied. 

 “In Vietnam, where I’m originally from, it’s called ‘xxx’ ( I couldn’t quite catch the name), literally meaning  ‘yellow flower’.  Such a popular flower in Vietnam, but I never knew it also grows around here.”

“You want one?  Take these branches with you.  Forthysia is so easy to propagate.”

“Really? Thank you so much!  I will definitely try that at home!”

This simple conversation made my day.  Now I know which country he is from.  Even a young guy like him from a country I have never visited fully enjoys Ikebana.  And my forsythia, rather than being thrown away, will start a new life under his care.

Why do I continue practicing Ikebana?  Because I would like to encounter more of these nice surprises. 

Excitement of Transformation

How this hard bud of forsythia will turn out next week

It’s cold here in Seattle.  My forsythia in the backyard doesn’t have a slight hint of blooming anytime soon.  The Northwest Flower and Garden Festival is coming up in a week, and I’m supposed to make an Ikebana arrangement for the Ikebana International Seattle Chapter booth.  Will I be able to use this branch for my arrangement?

Why not try it!  I will pick a few branches with interesting lines and shapes, cut them, put them in a large bucket filled with water, and bring them inside.  With warmer temperatures in the house, the hard buds may begin to open in a few days.

You cut out branches and flowers from nature, and you transform them into something different from their original conditions, shapes, and forms.  You add sprinkles of your imagination and creativity.  Sometimes it turns out to be beautiful, but sometimes it doesn’t. 

You move your point of view.  You improvise.  You do your best.  Yet you will never know what the outcome will look like. 

What is fun about Ikebana is the excitement of transformation. 

I will report to you how my arrangement will turn out.  Chances are that these forsythia will not blossom in time for the show.  In such a case, I will rush to the local florist to get alternative materials. That’s OK. It’s part of the game.

Underneath the bare forsythia, these tiny white flowers are already in full bloom.  So gentle… I don’t think I can create any more beautiful arrangement than this.  I simply bow down to nature!    

This is my arrangement from last year.

An example of how to create an Ikebana flower arrangement

How to Make Miso at Home

Can it be that simple?

Miso is an ingredient I grew up with, but I never saw my mother making miso at home.  When one of my tea ceremony friends told me she makes miso at home from scratch once a year, I said, ”Oh, please let me join you when you make it next time!”  The day has finally come!

There only three ingredients needed to make miso: Soybeans, rice koji, and salt.  Koji is fermented rice, and you can buy one even in the US.  My friend was kind enough to purchase all three for me so all I needed to bring was my pressure cooker and containers.

My friend soaked soybeans in water overnight.  One kilogram of soybean were swollen up with water!  Even after draining excess water, it weighed over 2 kg. 

I put the soybean into the pressure cooker, added water, and cooked for 20-30 minutes, until the beans became so soft that I could squeeze it easily with my fingers. 

Once the soybean was cooked, I drained the water (but kept it in case I needed to use it later), and put it into the food processor.  You can also mash it with your hands.  For how long?  Well, I like my miso to have a little crunchiness, so I mashed it not too fine. 

In a large bowl,  I mixed 1 kg of Koji and 400g of sea salt well by hand.  Then I added the mashed soybean and mixed it all together.  You can add the water you put aside at this point if the dough is too dry. 

The containers used for storing miso should be sterilized.  We used vodka and sprayed it inside the containers. 

The dough is ready to be stored in the containers.  The key point is to pack the dough so tightly that there is no air pocket in the dough.  With too much air pocket, black, unwanted mold will grow.  You don’t want that.   

Seal the top with a wrap to avoid contacting the surface with air.  Once sealed tight, store it in a dark and cool place for 4 months.  After 4 months, mix it from the bottom and pack it tight again.  I can start enjoying the miso after 6 months.

The process was simple, but a big question is if it will turn out well in 6 months… Let’s see!

After making miso, my friend treated me with this wonderful lunch.  The miso soup is, of course, made from her own home-made miso! Many thanks to my dear friend!

Power of Hope

We’ve seen it again in this disaster

On New Year’s Day, people’s celebratory mood was shattered in Japan.  Every time I watched the news on TV, the death toll was increasing.   NHK and other networks as well as YouTube videos showed horrible scenes. 

Watching these videos at home, all I could feel was helpfulness.  Nature doesn’t care if it’s New Year’s Day or not.  It doesn’t care if the city has a long history of impeccable Urushi lacquerware making.  It doesn’t care how many of the family members lost their lives.

No matter how far we humans have come to establish more convenient, comfortable lives over the millennium, one shake of the ground can destroy all that we have built.  We humans are powerless.

But one Facebook post by Takashi Wakamiya, who leads a group of Urushi lacquer craftspeople in Wajima, the city almost flattened by the earthquake, has given me power. 

However, even in these tough circumstances, I believe that artisans will try their best to respond to any work orders they receive.

At Hikoju Makie, we want to provide work to these artisans before they lose their spirit in the aftermath of the earthquake, hoping to connect them to a future of hope.

Even though somebody loses everything in a disaster such as an earthquake, as long as s/he has hope, s/he can restart, and rebuild, from nothing.  Hope in his/her heart has no physical element itself, but it is the source of power to create something. 

Japan has encountered numerous natural disasters in its long history.  Wakamiya-san’s message has reminded me of the power of hope, that my ancestors have always resorted after each disaster. 

Let me believe that I also have that power in me. 

Life and Sweeping the Floor

Is there any similarity between the two?

It’s an early Saturday morning. Raining.  Is it mist or cloud covering the sky?  My husband is still in bed.  I go downstairs, pick up a dry mop, and start sweeping the hardwood floor in the living room. 

Although the floor looks clean, after several trips back and forth between the walls, the mop collects cotton-like dust, strings of long hair, and other small particles (breadcrumb?).

It’s my weekly chore, for sure, but I kind of like this monotonous movement of my body. 

No matter how thoroughly I sweep today, the floor will be filled with the yucky-looking things again.  Is cleaning, like sweeping the floor, such a hopeless action with little value added to one’s life?  Then why do I like it?  Why do I refuse to hire somebody to do this chore for me?

“Life decreases or keeps constant its entropy by feeding on negative entropy.”  This is a concept introduced by Nobel-laureate physicist Erwin Schrödinger in his 1944 book “What is Life.”   

When I heard this sentence on a podcast, I found out why I like sweeping the floor.

Cleaning is an act of decreasing entropy.  It’s an analogy of life. By cleaning, I must have been experiencing what it means to live. 

My Way of Saluting Japan’s National Flag

Snowy White with Baby Breath and Orchid

Japan – America Society of the State of Washington celebrated its centennial anniversary on November 28.  For that occasion, I was asked to make a large ikebana arrangement to welcome guests at the entrance. 

The first thing I decided was the colors of the flowers I would use – no other than bright red and snowy white!  The only two colors to represent Japan’s national flag.  At the wholesale flower shop, a bunch of amaryllis, just about to bloom.  That’s it for the red!  For the white, I chose orchid and baby breath. 

The next step was to select the vase.  The round container with a smaller mouth.  With this shape of the vase, you can place two long branches to cross each other inside it, enabling a large structure. 

The photo above shows when I placed two long branches in the round vase.  Both branches are dry, and I spray-painted one of them for a change.  These dry branches come in handy when creating a large structure, so I keep them in the garage.  My husband thinks I hoard so much junk in the garage.  Well, honey, somebody’s junk is a treasure for somebody else.

The arrangement was well received at the celebration party.  I really liked it too, so when I brought it home I rearranged it, took a photo, and also made this year’s greeting card. 

I Wish you a happy 2024!