Author: kamys

The Oldest Shrine in Japan Worships The Holy Mountain

No, it’s not Mt. Fuji

People usually call Omiwa Shrine （大神神社）Miwa-san, as if it were their close friend.  It is said to be the oldest shrine in Japan.

My mother is proud to have been visiting Miwa-san every first day of the month in the last 20 years or so. Rain or shine, she never misses leaving home before 9 in the morning, taking trains and a shuttle bus for a little over an hour, and passing through this torii gate once a month.   For her, who easily gets bored with everything else, it is an amazing accomplishment.  Do you see a little figure, the third from the left, carrying a large black backpack in this photo?  That’s my mother.

Once in a while, I happen to be in Japan on the first day of the month.  This spring was such a lucky occasion.  I was staying in Kyoto for a few days, so was my friend Yuri-san.  She also lives in Seattle, but happened to be visiting her family in Kyoto.  Let’s get together in Kyoto and go somewhere on April 1st.  Oh! April 1st!  How about going to Miwa-san with my mother? Was my suggestion.

Yuri-san agreed.  “How auspicious to visit a shrine that worships snakes in the year of the snake!” Thanks to her, I learned something new. She also suggested that we hike the Yamanobe no Michi 山辺の道after visiting Miwa-san.  I agreed.

Yuri-san and I met at the entrance to the Kintetsu line of Kyoto Station.    The JR line side, especially the entrance to the Shinkansen (bullet train), was jam-packed mainly with foreign tourists.  Luckily, the Kintetsu line side was far less crowded.  There were hardly any people in the limited express train that we got in, leaving Kyoto Station at 9:10 am, bound for Kashikojima.

We changed trains at Yamato Saidaiji and got off the train at Sakurai Station.  My mother, coming from Osaka, also on the Kintetsu line, was waiting for us at the exit.  A little relief that three of us got together with no hickup.       

On foot, it takes at least 30 minutes from Sakurai Station to Miwa-san. On the first day of every month, however, a shuttle bus runs between Sakurai Station and the foot of Miwa-san to accommodate the monthly regulars like my mother.  Yuri-san and I piggybacked on that service, and the three of us got on the shuttle bus.        

The bus went through a narrow road and arrived at Miwa Ebisu Shrine, a tiny sub-shrine of Miwa-san, where everyone got off.  Cute camelia flowers were blooming on the hedges to welcome us. 

Camelia flowers – photo by Author

Along the pathway from this sub-shrine to the main gate of Miwa-san, many stalls were lined up, selling local produce and freshly cooked goodies.  Yuri-san and I were tempted to stop at each stall.   Knowing the way around and also on her mission to complete her route before noon, my motherl led the way.  She didn’t give us little time to meander and look around. 

We arrived at the large torii gate. 

My mother bowed down deeply in front of the gate.  “You are not supposed to go through the gate in the middle.  Stay on the right or left side when you go through under it.” If I had asked her why,  she would have replied, “Because I was told to do so.” To her, it was a good enough reason.  I simply followed her.

Sando参道 of Miwa-san – photo by Author

Beyond the torii gate was a long, straight gravel pathway, sandwiched with rows of tall trees and lanterns.  Each lantern had the name of the people or the company that donated it.  More people were walking toward the main shrine than walking back this way.  It was still in the morning.

Even to a soul that doesn’t believe in any god, some sense of awe, humility, or purification should come up by walking along under this lush green.  Not a single trash on the gravel road.  Defused by he leaves and branches, the sunlight, however harsh it may be, softens by the time it reaches you.  The air is crisp, and you notice you are breathing deeper than usual.  It’s worth visiting any big shrine only to experience this magical feeling.    

Snake shaped faucet – photo by Author

It is customary to clean your hands and mouth with water before visiting the main shrine.  No exception here at Miwa-san.   What is unique is that the shape of the faucet is a snake.  What is the relationship between Miwa-san and a snake?

Miwa-san enshrines the god Omononushi no Okami 大物主大神. In both Kojiki古事記 and Nihon Shoki日本書紀, the two oldest books of Japanese history & mythology, a snake is depicted as one of this god’s incarnations. 

According to Miwa-san’s official website:

“During the reign of Emperor Sujin, there was a princess named Yamatototobimomosohime who served as a shrine maiden, conveying the will of the gods and helping the emperor with his affairs.

This princess was to become the wife of Omononushi no Okami, but he would only visit her at night. She asked him if she could see his face. Okami thought this was a reasonable request and granted her request. He told her that he was in a box containing her comb, but never to be surprised by opening it.

Suspicious, the princess opened the box the next morning to find a small snake inside, which made her scream in shock. The god instantly transformed from a snake into a beautiful man and reproached her for breaking her promise. He then flew into the sky and returned to Mount Miwa, saying she would never see him again. The princess then regretted her actions and stabbed herself in the vagina with chopsticks, losing her life. For this reason, Momosohime’s grave came to be known as Hashihaka (Hashihaka Tomb). This sad story about Hashihaka, located at the foot of Mount Miwa, is recorded in the Nihon Shoki.”

A rather sad and scary story. 

The Haiden of Miwa-san – photo by Author

On top of the steps is the haiden 拝殿, the worship hall.  The monthly ritual had already started when we got there.  Gagaku music was playing, with many people listening to it both inside and outside the building.

Another uniqueness of Miwa-san is that there is no honden 本殿, the main hall, that would normally exist beyond the haiden. 

Usually, a certain object of worship is housed in the honden.  For Miwa-san, however, the object of worship is the mountain itself.   We bow down in front of the haiden to pay respect to this holy mountain, Mount Miwa, which stands behind the haiden.

Mount Miwa from the observation deck – photo by Author

Mount Miwa is not visible from the front of the haiden.  If you walk up to the observation deck, you can see it through the tree branches.  On the day I visited, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, decorating the graceful figure of the holy mountain.

One of my mother’s never-to-miss spots in Miwa-san is Kusuriido 薬井戸, where you can get holy water that would cure any illness.  In her backpack she had six empty half-a-litter PET bottles.  She would fill all the bottles with this holy water, carry them back to Osaka, and give three to her niece and keep three for herself.  Is it this holy water, or the fact that she carries the water back home every month, that keeps her healthy?  In either case, I have no complaints.

While my mother went rushing to the well, I was walking at my own pace along the passage leading to the well.  On the left side of the passage, there was a pond, and I found a rather new stone monument.  Intreagued, I went up closer.

Stone monument of Mishiya Yukio’s handwriing – photo of Author

清明（seimei）- 三島由紀夫 (Mishima Yukio)… That famous author Mishima Yukio?  Why is it here?

Another plaque by the monument explained why.   

Plaque – photo by Author

(My translation)

“In his novel Runaway Horses (奔馬, Honba), the second in his Sea of Fertility tetralogy. Mishima Yukio depicted the faith in holy Mount Miwa and the religious rituals of Omiwa Shrine as the novel’s central theme.

To study ancient Shintoism, Mishima attended the Saikusa Festival of Isagawa Shrine (Omiwa Shrine’s sub shrine) in June, 1966.  Mishima visited Omiwa Shrine again with Donald Keene on August 22, and stayed here for three nights.  On the 23rd, he strolled around Yamanobe no Michi at the foot of Mount Miwa.  On the 24th, he climbed up the peak of Mount Miwa.  After coming down from the peak, he attended the Gagaku music ritual held in the haiden.  Deeply impressed by the experience, Mishima wrote 晴明 (seimei=clear and bright) and 雲靉靆 (unaitai=cloudy and unclear) on the paper. 

Later Mishima wrote to Omiwa Shrine.

‘The sacred area of Omiwa Shrine was nothing but 晴明.  The days I spent being embraced by the god are an unforgettable experience in my life. 

I was honored to be allowed to climb up Mt. Miwa.  Looking down at the sacred stone at the peak, and looking up at the blue sky, I felt as if I was touching the base of the god’s seat. 

My everyday life in Tokyo is so distant from any god, I never thought I could ever come closer to Japan’s oldest god without feeling awe.  Not only awed, but I also felt invigorated and purified.  What a blessing from the god beyond my imagination!

Yamanobe no Michi, graceful dancing, and Gagaku music were all worth remembering.  Above all, I was deeply impressed by the priests’ relentless daily devotion day and night to the god.’

With the support of a generous donor, we erect the plaque of Mr. Mishima’s handwriting to cement the deep bond between him and Omiwa Shrine. 

Heisei 16th Year (2004) August “

Is this plaque an indication that I have to read Sea of Fertility? 

Miwa somen and Kakinoha sushi – photo by Author

My mother completed her monthly routine at Miwa-san.  Yuri-san and I had enough morning exercise.  Time for lunch! 

Morisho converted their front yard of the old farm house into an outdoor restaurant.  We ordered a lunch set, which contains the two local specialties: Somen and Kakinoha sushi.

Somen is very thin flour noodle.  Morisho serves somen in thin dashi broth.  Kakinoha sushi is wrapped around with a persimmon leaf.  Thanks to the antimicrobial effect of the persimmon, sushi lasts for a couple of days. 

After lunch, Yuri-san and I parted from my mother who went back to Osaka.  Off to Yamanobeno michi… I never imagined it would be that long of a hike.

Overlooking Yamato Sanzan from Miwa-san’s observation deck – photo by Author

Why Hana Has Chosen to Work for This Small Studio in the Mountains

The magic of Oigawa Mempa

Hana picked me up at the Shizuoka Station and we headed north.  After about an hour’s drive, we reached Oiya 大井屋, the shop and the studio where Hana chose to work after graduating from the Traditional Arts Super College of Kyoto (TASK).

The shop looked far from fashionable boutiques in Tokyo or Kyoto.  Why a young woman like Hana had chosen this place as her workplace, I wondered.

Mr. Maeda, Hana’s boss, greeted me with a big smile.  “Let’s have lunch together.”  Hana had already prepared lunch for three of us, neatly packed in, nothing else, their own Oigawa Mempa. 

Hana’s bento in their Oigawa Mempa – photo by Author

    What is Mempa

    A thinly-sliced wood is bent to form the side of the container… While similar types of this woodworking technique are found throughout Japan, it varies depending on the regions as to which wood is used, how the coating is done, and what people call them. In the Oigawa region, the mountainside of Shizuoka Prefecture, people call such wood containers “Mempa.”

    Hinoki cypress trees that grow locally are used for the body. Strips made of the local cherry tree bark are used to stitch together the edges. Kakishibu is used for the undercoat, and Urushi sap for the overcoat.

    Oiya is the only place remaining to make this type of wooden lunch boxes exactly the same way as has historically been made, using only natural materials.   

    Shaping, Bending, Stitching, and Gluing

    After lunch, Hana and Mr. Maeda led me to the workspace to walk me through the process of making their Mempa. 

    Hinoki Cypress wood board is first boiled in hot water so that it becomes soft enough to bend.  By rolling it with a cylinder-shaped tool several times, the boiled board is gradually bent. 

    Hana is making the side board bent – photo by Hana with permission

    By holding the edges of the board together with a special tool, they cut out slits and stitch together the edges with the cherry bark strip.

    Stitching the edges of the bent wood with the strip of cherry bark – photo by Author

    The side body is made by bending thinly sliced hinoki cypress.  The edges are stitched together with a strip of cherry bark – photo by Author

    Once the side of the container is formed, they put it together with the bottom part. 

    The bottom of the lunch box is also made of hinoki cypress– photo by Author

    Mugi Urushi 麦漆, paste made by mixing Urushi sap and flour, is used to glue together the bottom and the side of the container.  The gluten of flour mixed with Urushi creates a strong bond once the paste dries.

    Next Sabi Urushi 錆漆is applied on top of the stitches and the gap between the bottom and the side of the container.  Sabi Urushi is a mixture of Urushi sap and diatomite.  With finer particles, Sabi Urushi gives a smoother texture than Mugi Urushi, as well as filling the tiny gaps. 

    Hana applies Mugi Urushi麦漆  to glue together the bottom and the side of the container – photo by Author

    Hana applies Sabi Urushi錆漆  onto the threaded bark to smooth out – Photo by Author

    Both Mugi Urushi and Sabi Urushi are applied, now drying – photo by Author

    Mugi Urushi hardens after a day or so, but it takes at least 3 in the summer and almost 2 weeks in the winter for Sabi Urushi to completely harden.

    Undercoating, Overcoating, and Decorating the Surface

    The next step is to undercoat the body with Kakishibu.

    Kakishibu 柿渋 is the fermented juice of unripe persimmons.  For centuries in Japan, Kakishibu has been used to protect wood, fabrics, and paper from moisture, insects, and fungi.  Its antiseptic and antibacterial properties have now been scientifically proven. 

    For Oigawa Mempa, they apply kakishibu undercoating 4 or 5 times. Why apply kakishibu so many times?

    Hinoki cypress is a comparatively soft wood, therefore, it is easy to bend.  “Soft” also means it is easily scratched.  By applying kakishibu 4 or 5 times, the wood becomes harder and more resilient to scratches, as well as lighter, because the moisture in the wood is eliminated.

    “We apply Kakishibu on a sunny day, in a workspace outside in the shade.  After each time we apply Kakishibu, we place it under the sun.  When the layer is dried, we apply another layer.  We repeat this process 5 or 6 times.  Interestingly, I can feel the wood gets noticeably tighter and lighter after the third or fourth layer,” says Hana.

    Oigawa Mempa after Kakishibu is applied and dried – photo by Hana with permission

    Once the Kakishibu undercoat is applied, now it’s time to apply Urushi overcoat.

    The beautiful, shiny surface is the signature characteristic of Urushi.  Also, it adds water resilience, strength, and durability to the surface.  It also has antibacterial properties.  No wonder Urushi has been used for bowls, plates, and almost every form of food and drink containers in Japan for centuries. 

    Hana is applying Urushi overcoat – photo by Hana with permission

    Urushi is an interesting material.  Although people call the process “drying Urushi,” it’s actually a chemical reaction of hardening the substance, which requires high humidity. Once the overcoat is applied, the containers are kept in the “muro, ” the cabinet full of shelves.  Mr. Maeda opened the sliding door of the muro, where the containers were dried.  Before closing the door, he sprayed water onto the shelves to make sure to keep the humidity in the muro at about 80%. 

    Mr. Maeda is spraying water onto the shelves – Photo by Author

    The surface hardens in about a day in the muro.  Urushi may still irritate the skin until it completely hardens. Oiya waits at least a week before moving the containers to the storefront. 

    Each Mempa displayed in the showcase has a tag that tells when it was taken out from the muro.  Oiya suggests that customers wait for two months in the summer or three months in the winter before they start using the Mempa they purchased. 

    Completed Mempa on display – photo by Author

    Oiya’s Mempa used to have just a plain surface.  For Hana, who learned Makie 蒔絵 design at TASK, the plain surface has become a new canvas to try new designs. She first added Japan’s traditional designs.  Now she takes orders for custom designs. 

    Hana is applying Makie designs on the lid – photo by Hana with permission

    Mempa with Hana’s Makie designs – photos by Hana with permission

    So how long does it take to make a Mempa?  About how many Mempa does Oiya make in one batch? 

    From the start, when they cut the wooden boards, to finish, when they put them on the storefront, it takes about 3 months.  For each batch, they make 80 to 90 Mempa.  With two of them, they are making roughly one Mempa a day.

    ***

    Every summer, they make their own Kakishibu from organic persimmons that are locally harvested.  They purchase rough Urushi生漆 from a wholesaler, but they don’t depend on a third party to refine it.  They don’t mix any thinning solution to Urushi.  Rather, they make Urushi softer by painstakingly mixing it in the sunlight.   

    Mr. Maeda shows no compromise when it comes to the materials they use and the process they use to make their Mempa. 

    “Mempa is used to store our food, which is indispensable for our body and health.   How can we compromise its quality?” says Mr. Maeda. 

    Beside him, Hana was nodding each time Mr. Maeda made his comments.  I remembered that Hana had mentioned in her essay that her dream job would be to make lacquerware that are used by people every day.  Kudos to Hana for making her dream come true. 

    Mr. Maeda, Hana, and me with Mempa in our hands – photo by Author

    Hana will be coming to Seattle this summer.  For the Mempa I ordered, I asked her to design something that depicts Seattle.  What kind of design will she come up with?  I look forward to finding out!

    Her Obituary

    A long-time friend passed away

    Yesterday I found out that a long-time friend of mine passed away almost a year ago. She was the very person that introduced me and my husband.

    We two couples used to get together often, like going to plays, celebrating New Year’s and the Fourth of July.

    But over time we drifted apart… They had three kids while we stayed childless. After they got divorced we tried to see them separately but it was not easy.

    She was later diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. She may not have been even fifty at that time, quite a rare case. Once I made an appointment to get together with her, but when I visited her room in an assisted living facility, she was doing something with somebody else. She looked surprised to see me. Maybe she didn’t remember our appointment.

    That was the last time I saw her. Now I regret, why I didn’t make another effort to see her…

    I searched and found her obituary on the internet. She was four years younger. Her smile on the photo looked so lively.

    Do I miss her? Very much. Do I feel sad? Not much. Her photo on the obituary has hit me with this truth. She went earlier, but I will follow her eventually. When exactly, I don’t know, but the day will certainly come. And I’m getting closer and closer to that moment each day.

    After drifting apart for so long, now I feel so close to her. Her life and my life are not that different.

    I Bought Flowers for 24 People with A Little Hope to Change Their Lives

    Just like it changed mine 30 years ago

    This morning I went to the wholesaler to buy flowers for 24 people. Twenty-four people who will try Ikebana, the Japanese flower arrangement, for the first time tomorrow!

    Each person will use only two kinds of materials: one kind of green branches and one kind of flowers.  With the minimum sort of materials, can you make something beautiful?  That’s the challenge.

    The people who will take my workshop tomorrow all work for a large high-tech company.  I myself was working for a big IT company when I took my first Ikebana lesson, working hard every day, stressed every day.

    On the day when I first walked into the Ikebana class, my teacher, who must have been younger than I am now, welcomed me with a warm smile.  She taught me how to hold scissors, how to bend a branch, and on which angle to place it onto the Kenzan, a pin frog. 

    For my teacher, I was merely one of her many students.  She must have given the same instruction many times previously. 

    But for me, it was an eye-opener.  My life has never been the same ever since I learned the joy of creating something beautiful with natural materials. 

    Almost thirty years later, I no longer work in the IT industry, but I still continue learning Ikebana, now I’m on the teaching side. 

    When picking flowers, I just wondered… Among the twenty-four people who will come to my workshop tomorrow, would there be one who might encounter Ikebana the same way as I did?  Who knows!

    For that possibility, I continue to teach Ikebana.  Just like my teacher has changed my life, I might change some youngster’s life. Or not. All I do is to do my best to share the joy of creating something beautiful.   

    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