Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Greetings
Hey guys - this saying nothing really video is about 10 minutes long...long enough for a mothers love, but maybe too long for everyone else. One thing - while there is no magic formula or an elixir for a Japanese Garden, there really is an essence yes. A post about the essence is to follow.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
The Carpenter and the Frenchman
I met him last night when he came walking through the woods. I was creating a stone, moss and gravel arrangement down by the railroad tracks that run along the edge of one of the last virgin forests in Japan. We are about 2 hours into the mountains north and west of Kyoto.
Harper is from Minnesota, but has lived in Japan for 30 years and is a carpenter by trade, focusing on traditional Japanese furniture. He was pleasant to talk to and stayed with our group for dinner and drinks afterward. I had lots of questions and he was kind enough to answer. Questions about living in Japan, working in Japan - what the market is like, etc. It takes a certain kind of person to make it here as a foreigner because they just don't want you here, and make it difficult to do so. After 30 years of trying and dealing with visas, etc., he just barely got his residency. He doesn't recommend it, but then again, he says he wouldn't have it any other way. He loves his rustic life in the countryside of Japan.
I mentioned that I would be going up to Tango Hanto peninsula Monday morning for the rest of the week. Claude, a Frenchman who is married to a Japanese woman, will be taking me around to the restaurants, onsens, beaches, temples, towns and coastal areas - and will provide lodging for me - a quaint traditional farmhouse all to myself in the middle of rice paddies near the coast.
"Oh, yes...Claude." A hearty chuckle and a distant look in his warm eyes. "Huh. He's a fossil among us ex-pats. Great man. Tell him I say hello. It's been a long time..."
And so the big wide world stays small.
Harper is from Minnesota, but has lived in Japan for 30 years and is a carpenter by trade, focusing on traditional Japanese furniture. He was pleasant to talk to and stayed with our group for dinner and drinks afterward. I had lots of questions and he was kind enough to answer. Questions about living in Japan, working in Japan - what the market is like, etc. It takes a certain kind of person to make it here as a foreigner because they just don't want you here, and make it difficult to do so. After 30 years of trying and dealing with visas, etc., he just barely got his residency. He doesn't recommend it, but then again, he says he wouldn't have it any other way. He loves his rustic life in the countryside of Japan.
I mentioned that I would be going up to Tango Hanto peninsula Monday morning for the rest of the week. Claude, a Frenchman who is married to a Japanese woman, will be taking me around to the restaurants, onsens, beaches, temples, towns and coastal areas - and will provide lodging for me - a quaint traditional farmhouse all to myself in the middle of rice paddies near the coast.
"Oh, yes...Claude." A hearty chuckle and a distant look in his warm eyes. "Huh. He's a fossil among us ex-pats. Great man. Tell him I say hello. It's been a long time..."
And so the big wide world stays small.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
A travelers nap.
Yesterday we broke early. Just over 2 hours before we had to meet on Shijo-dori at the tea house where Prof. Amasaki would show some of his design work.
Over 2 hours and the sun was our and the sky was blue. Some white clouds were passing from west to east. It had been a bheautiful day since sunrise.
We made our way down some narrow streets and found a small restaurant where a hotplate of rice, pork, scallion and a whole raw egg was waiting for me. Many times they serve the food just a tad undercooked, so that it finishes cooking in front of you, hence the purpose for the hotplate. I would love to have a set of hotplates and invite friends over for wonderful dinners.
After the most satifiying lunch, we walk adjacent the willow weeping river. I break away from the small group.
"I am going to sit by the river."
And I do.
I make my way west and come to the Kamo river. Large blocks create a steep wall which frames the wide span of water. It is not too deep. I find a place, not too far from a bridge where a large peninsula-like form of stone and grass has protruded out from the wall. I make my way down to the waters edge and set my jacket down, followed by me sitting down. I sit and look across the river. A long stretch of quintessential Japanese architecture spans the entire length of two bridges. I am in a good place.
I take out a pen and notebook and start making some notes. But I am not in the mood to write. I have just eaten a full plate of hot food. The early afternoon November sun is ripe and the clouds passing overhead are telling me, maybe you should rest. Smart clouds.
I set my backpack behind me as a pillow and recline back into the stones and grass. The stones feel good on my back and soften my tired muscles. It is so good to feel the air, I take a series of several deep breaths. With the water so near - at the edge of my feet even, all my thoughts are washed down river. I drift off with the clouds.
In a state of subconsciousness, I am dully aware that one side of my body is burning hot from the low wintering sun, like a hot iron being constantly pressed against me. The other side, the right side, feels nothing but the cold wind. It is strong and forced and hits me like waves on a shoreline - but I do not shiver. The two constrasts balance each other, I am neither hot nor cold. I am in peace. And maybe I can understand Yin and Yang.
Sleep.
I lay there for awhile. Dozey, so dozey. I have sunken into the space and I feel weighted into place like a deep bag of rice. After a good while I slowly open my heavy eyelids in a lazy manner. I see the clouds above me. White and puffy. I roll my head and gaze across the river and see all the Machiya. Kyoto!
I must be dreaming.
And I don`t want to wake up.
Over 2 hours and the sun was our and the sky was blue. Some white clouds were passing from west to east. It had been a bheautiful day since sunrise.
We made our way down some narrow streets and found a small restaurant where a hotplate of rice, pork, scallion and a whole raw egg was waiting for me. Many times they serve the food just a tad undercooked, so that it finishes cooking in front of you, hence the purpose for the hotplate. I would love to have a set of hotplates and invite friends over for wonderful dinners.
After the most satifiying lunch, we walk adjacent the willow weeping river. I break away from the small group.
"I am going to sit by the river."
And I do.
I make my way west and come to the Kamo river. Large blocks create a steep wall which frames the wide span of water. It is not too deep. I find a place, not too far from a bridge where a large peninsula-like form of stone and grass has protruded out from the wall. I make my way down to the waters edge and set my jacket down, followed by me sitting down. I sit and look across the river. A long stretch of quintessential Japanese architecture spans the entire length of two bridges. I am in a good place.
I take out a pen and notebook and start making some notes. But I am not in the mood to write. I have just eaten a full plate of hot food. The early afternoon November sun is ripe and the clouds passing overhead are telling me, maybe you should rest. Smart clouds.
I set my backpack behind me as a pillow and recline back into the stones and grass. The stones feel good on my back and soften my tired muscles. It is so good to feel the air, I take a series of several deep breaths. With the water so near - at the edge of my feet even, all my thoughts are washed down river. I drift off with the clouds.
In a state of subconsciousness, I am dully aware that one side of my body is burning hot from the low wintering sun, like a hot iron being constantly pressed against me. The other side, the right side, feels nothing but the cold wind. It is strong and forced and hits me like waves on a shoreline - but I do not shiver. The two constrasts balance each other, I am neither hot nor cold. I am in peace. And maybe I can understand Yin and Yang.
Sleep.
I lay there for awhile. Dozey, so dozey. I have sunken into the space and I feel weighted into place like a deep bag of rice. After a good while I slowly open my heavy eyelids in a lazy manner. I see the clouds above me. White and puffy. I roll my head and gaze across the river and see all the Machiya. Kyoto!
I must be dreaming.
And I don`t want to wake up.
two points of impact
I wish you could be here. I wish you were close by. I wish the reverberating vibrations of my Kyoto drenched soul could be infused into your bosom and soak you from head to toe.
My head is swimming with the days events. It has been so impactful, I just might start to cry and drown if I cannot get some footing.
We started the morning at Kinkakuji, the Golden Pavillion. We arrived before the gates opened at 9am. The head gardener for the temple came to greet us and then proceeded to take us to rooms and gardens where the everyday tourist is not allowed, which turned a well-attended garden into a more intimate experience. After spending some time in various buildings we were taken out by the main pond, where the Golden Pavillion sits. I thought that surely here we would have to settle with being a part of the masses, but much to my delight we were escorted past the bamboo barrier and down a path that follows the western shore. Here we were even allowed to tread over the moss to get a good angle for our pictures. It was quiet, serene. An egret a top a verticle stone protruding out of the water made the living painting complete. Some maples are were red. They will peak in 10 days.
We were to meet at 10:15 for the bus, the exit was our rendevouz point. At 10 o`clock I found myself arriving at a line of shops signaling the end of the temple grounds. 15 minutes not to waste. I headed back toward the entrance.
There`s a large bell before one enters the garden, and for 200 yen one can sound the bell themselves. I had the change in my pocket and waited in the short line, behind the young boy with his parents. After they had sounded the bell, first the father, then the son - they came down from the covered bell porch and I was encouraged up and in. A thick braided rope tied to a large wooden beam hung in front of me. Looking up, the bell was impressive. With a motion by the monk, I placed my hands together as a prayer and with closed eyes bowed towards the bell. I then grasped the rope, my gripe was wide. My stance was wide as well with one foot in front of the other so as to keep my balance. Two practice swings - the monk demonstrating the motion through charades.
Now it was time. Time to ring the bell.
I pulled the rope back with much vigor while drawing in a breath. When the beam reached the point of return, with some force, but not too much (the goal is not to hit it as hard as you can, but focus more on the purpose and what it means to be the ring bearer), I pulled the rope forward and downward.
.......................................................... .................. ............... ............... ......... . .......... ... .. .
The bell sounded. It vibrated. Rich and complete. Through the air and through me it passed, leaving lingering traces of parabolic waves in my core.
I was lifted out of time and space.
And like my nap at Tofukuji, I became a part of that sound, and it changed me.
Placing my hands together, I bowed my head and left the bell. Grateful for the experience.
*****
As I left Kinkakuji, the vibrations of the bell left with me. There was a physical change in my heart and my chest felt so full. A strange combination of ready to burst, yet so settled. Contentment and Overjoyed. I felt lighter.
We were heading to Ryoanji. The famous fifteen stone garden that had such an impact on me this spring. I was curious and interested in finding out what it would be like to re-visit so soon. Would it have the same powerful impact? Would I feel the same distinct presence? Would I still enjoy it and find it absolutely fascinating.
Yes, yes and yes.
I do not know why I feel the way I do when I am in that space. All the gardens we have visited are just absolutely beautiful. All are worth the trip. All impactful. But Ryoanji is the only one I feel a distinct difference with. It has a spirit that is very strong, and even though the temple veranda is always full of visitors, I somehow can be there and be there. Maybe it`s a result of growing up in a household of 13. You learn to find the calm in the midst of noise and movement.
I sat on the temple porch for a while. The mid-morning sun seeping into my bones and I am warmed. So much of me is warmed. I sit and try to figure out how 15 stones in raked white gravel can have such an impact. It is so simple, but not simple-minded. Later I asked several people in the group about their experience. "It made me feel like a tourist" "I have seen other gardens more beautiful" "Meh" "It just another wonderful garden here in Kyoto." Some did feel awe and amazement as I did, and it was good to talk to those who felt the power of the space. I wonder what it all means, these feeling I have. I feel like I am supposed to figure out what it is and what I am supposed to do with it. Maybe there is a reason I felt the way I did. Now the journey begins to figure that out.
*****
It is nearing the end of the day for me. For you it is just beginning. I just came from the best lecture we have had yet, given by Professor Sasaki. The lecture ignited my brain - blasted even. It made me rethink my approach to what I have taught at the University for the residential landscape design course. So much to evaluate and condsider and reconsider. And now, how to put it into words. What a task.
So today was a very good day. And there is still time for more experiences. It`s only 5:31 pm here. Time for sushi? Maybe I can save you a piece of toro.
Tomorrow morning we leave for the mountains. We are going to stay by a river where we will make our own version of a Japanese garden. It should be something.
My head is swimming with the days events. It has been so impactful, I just might start to cry and drown if I cannot get some footing.
We started the morning at Kinkakuji, the Golden Pavillion. We arrived before the gates opened at 9am. The head gardener for the temple came to greet us and then proceeded to take us to rooms and gardens where the everyday tourist is not allowed, which turned a well-attended garden into a more intimate experience. After spending some time in various buildings we were taken out by the main pond, where the Golden Pavillion sits. I thought that surely here we would have to settle with being a part of the masses, but much to my delight we were escorted past the bamboo barrier and down a path that follows the western shore. Here we were even allowed to tread over the moss to get a good angle for our pictures. It was quiet, serene. An egret a top a verticle stone protruding out of the water made the living painting complete. Some maples are were red. They will peak in 10 days.
We were to meet at 10:15 for the bus, the exit was our rendevouz point. At 10 o`clock I found myself arriving at a line of shops signaling the end of the temple grounds. 15 minutes not to waste. I headed back toward the entrance.
There`s a large bell before one enters the garden, and for 200 yen one can sound the bell themselves. I had the change in my pocket and waited in the short line, behind the young boy with his parents. After they had sounded the bell, first the father, then the son - they came down from the covered bell porch and I was encouraged up and in. A thick braided rope tied to a large wooden beam hung in front of me. Looking up, the bell was impressive. With a motion by the monk, I placed my hands together as a prayer and with closed eyes bowed towards the bell. I then grasped the rope, my gripe was wide. My stance was wide as well with one foot in front of the other so as to keep my balance. Two practice swings - the monk demonstrating the motion through charades.
Now it was time. Time to ring the bell.
I pulled the rope back with much vigor while drawing in a breath. When the beam reached the point of return, with some force, but not too much (the goal is not to hit it as hard as you can, but focus more on the purpose and what it means to be the ring bearer), I pulled the rope forward and downward.
.......................................................... .................. ............... ............... ......... . .......... ... .. .
The bell sounded. It vibrated. Rich and complete. Through the air and through me it passed, leaving lingering traces of parabolic waves in my core.
I was lifted out of time and space.
And like my nap at Tofukuji, I became a part of that sound, and it changed me.
Placing my hands together, I bowed my head and left the bell. Grateful for the experience.
*****
As I left Kinkakuji, the vibrations of the bell left with me. There was a physical change in my heart and my chest felt so full. A strange combination of ready to burst, yet so settled. Contentment and Overjoyed. I felt lighter.
We were heading to Ryoanji. The famous fifteen stone garden that had such an impact on me this spring. I was curious and interested in finding out what it would be like to re-visit so soon. Would it have the same powerful impact? Would I feel the same distinct presence? Would I still enjoy it and find it absolutely fascinating.
Yes, yes and yes.
I do not know why I feel the way I do when I am in that space. All the gardens we have visited are just absolutely beautiful. All are worth the trip. All impactful. But Ryoanji is the only one I feel a distinct difference with. It has a spirit that is very strong, and even though the temple veranda is always full of visitors, I somehow can be there and be there. Maybe it`s a result of growing up in a household of 13. You learn to find the calm in the midst of noise and movement.
I sat on the temple porch for a while. The mid-morning sun seeping into my bones and I am warmed. So much of me is warmed. I sit and try to figure out how 15 stones in raked white gravel can have such an impact. It is so simple, but not simple-minded. Later I asked several people in the group about their experience. "It made me feel like a tourist" "I have seen other gardens more beautiful" "Meh" "It just another wonderful garden here in Kyoto." Some did feel awe and amazement as I did, and it was good to talk to those who felt the power of the space. I wonder what it all means, these feeling I have. I feel like I am supposed to figure out what it is and what I am supposed to do with it. Maybe there is a reason I felt the way I did. Now the journey begins to figure that out.
*****
It is nearing the end of the day for me. For you it is just beginning. I just came from the best lecture we have had yet, given by Professor Sasaki. The lecture ignited my brain - blasted even. It made me rethink my approach to what I have taught at the University for the residential landscape design course. So much to evaluate and condsider and reconsider. And now, how to put it into words. What a task.
So today was a very good day. And there is still time for more experiences. It`s only 5:31 pm here. Time for sushi? Maybe I can save you a piece of toro.
Tomorrow morning we leave for the mountains. We are going to stay by a river where we will make our own version of a Japanese garden. It should be something.
you can`t win `em all
I took the wrong number 5 bus. And ended up in the completely opposite direction. I was barely still on the map when I exited the bus, and found myself surrounded by overpasses, viaducts, darkness and nothingness. Where am I?! No where.
Oooops.
Hungry, I stopped into the nearest resturant that looked even remotely reputable. After 5 minutes at the bar, I couldn`t take it anymore. The horrible music playing over the system was not helping and I didn`t want Chinese food anyways. I asked if I could have my sweet and sour pork to go. Please.
After a costly cab ride, I ate my pork in the hotel lobby where the musak is even worse! Dur. Later that evening I ended up having a conversation with ...... where I did indeed need to remind him he is married and there will not be anything between us. He`s not my type either way. So the unexpected sub-plot of my Japan adventures should be over.
You live and you learn, right? We`ll chalk last night up to experience. Oh, the lessons learned.
Oooops.
Hungry, I stopped into the nearest resturant that looked even remotely reputable. After 5 minutes at the bar, I couldn`t take it anymore. The horrible music playing over the system was not helping and I didn`t want Chinese food anyways. I asked if I could have my sweet and sour pork to go. Please.
After a costly cab ride, I ate my pork in the hotel lobby where the musak is even worse! Dur. Later that evening I ended up having a conversation with ...... where I did indeed need to remind him he is married and there will not be anything between us. He`s not my type either way. So the unexpected sub-plot of my Japan adventures should be over.
You live and you learn, right? We`ll chalk last night up to experience. Oh, the lessons learned.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Temple Entries
Temple Entries are coming. It`s just that they take so much energy to compose that they might have to wait until Kameoka. Then we will revisit the temple gardens together. Hopefully then, I will still be able to portray my experiences adequately. Somtimes the moments are fleeting and must be caputred in the moment, like the late afternoon lighting on a photographers fall outing.
All of my senses have been challenged here in Kyoto. Sights, sounds, tastes, feels, smells...and one must add heart as the 6th sense when in Kyoto. You are hit by so much in so little time that if you are not centered you may be run over.
All of my senses have been challenged here in Kyoto. Sights, sounds, tastes, feels, smells...and one must add heart as the 6th sense when in Kyoto. You are hit by so much in so little time that if you are not centered you may be run over.
Yes, I am.
I was eating my breakfast of fish, egg, cucumber and grapefruit when she sat down next to Ruth and I. Kathy is from Minnesota who gardens at the arboretum. "Are you guys leaving soon?" "Have a seat, we`ll stick around for a bit." Her dark bangs are cut super short and her glasses have the personality of a turquiose cheetah. She`s a character.
Our conversations lead toward talking about the differences between gardening in the USA vs. the UK and Europe. Kathy asks where I am from.
"Oh! Well that explains it."
She turns to Ruth and leans forward to explain it."
"Salt Lake City is just this different place. I mean it`s just different. Before it was a dry and barren desert with nothing. Then this group of people migrated out and established a communuity. And there`s this lake of salt. The land there is very unique. It`s just different. But not only is the terrain different. The people are different. Mormons live there - these Mormons. They are VERY secluded and reserved and racist. They don`t like outsiders and are strange...da da da da da."
"Well, I think you may have to wrong idea of what Mormons are."
She turns to me and her eyes widen a bit.
"I am a Mormon."
"YOU ARE A MORMON!!!!
But...!!"
She looks me up and down.
"Your clothes!"
"Yeah, what about `em."
I was in jeans, scoop neck t-shirt, and my black converse. Pretty basic. Pretty normal. She was surprised by how much skin I was showing for being a Mormon and all.
We chat for a while and all the positive things she thinks about Mormons come out. Like, all the women are beautiful, just beautiful.
"Tell them about the vault."
"Well...there`s this vault, and it`s in the mountain...."
She says she`s going to sit next to me later on. She has lots of questions. And she has and it`s been great. I have been able to clear up preconceived ideas which are not so spot on.
The other day at breakfast she walked by and looked at my tray of food choices. "Oh you are so smart. I am just going to do everything that you do...." "...will I be more protected if I stand close to you?" Like I said, she`s a character.
Her most recent comentary....
"You have such a pure look in your eyes. A real purity...
...but not innocence."
****
While having dinner on the canal last night John asked, "Are you Mormon?"
"Yes."
"OH, THAT`S GREAT!!!"
With a huge smile and a laugh, "So that`s why you never get a beer. That`s just great. Wonderful."
Every group needs their token Mormon friend.
Our conversations lead toward talking about the differences between gardening in the USA vs. the UK and Europe. Kathy asks where I am from.
"Oh! Well that explains it."
She turns to Ruth and leans forward to explain it."
"Salt Lake City is just this different place. I mean it`s just different. Before it was a dry and barren desert with nothing. Then this group of people migrated out and established a communuity. And there`s this lake of salt. The land there is very unique. It`s just different. But not only is the terrain different. The people are different. Mormons live there - these Mormons. They are VERY secluded and reserved and racist. They don`t like outsiders and are strange...da da da da da."
"Well, I think you may have to wrong idea of what Mormons are."
She turns to me and her eyes widen a bit.
"I am a Mormon."
"YOU ARE A MORMON!!!!
But...!!"
She looks me up and down.
"Your clothes!"
"Yeah, what about `em."
I was in jeans, scoop neck t-shirt, and my black converse. Pretty basic. Pretty normal. She was surprised by how much skin I was showing for being a Mormon and all.
We chat for a while and all the positive things she thinks about Mormons come out. Like, all the women are beautiful, just beautiful.
"Tell them about the vault."
"Well...there`s this vault, and it`s in the mountain...."
She says she`s going to sit next to me later on. She has lots of questions. And she has and it`s been great. I have been able to clear up preconceived ideas which are not so spot on.
The other day at breakfast she walked by and looked at my tray of food choices. "Oh you are so smart. I am just going to do everything that you do...." "...will I be more protected if I stand close to you?" Like I said, she`s a character.
Her most recent comentary....
"You have such a pure look in your eyes. A real purity...
...but not innocence."
****
While having dinner on the canal last night John asked, "Are you Mormon?"
"Yes."
"OH, THAT`S GREAT!!!"
With a huge smile and a laugh, "So that`s why you never get a beer. That`s just great. Wonderful."
Every group needs their token Mormon friend.
The Vending Machines
A word must be said about vending machines. Simply because they, along with a mass of power lines, are an integral part of the Kyoto Urbanscape. Drink vending machines are EVERYWHERE. In the city, up by the temples, along the mountain roads. Thirsty? No worries if you`ve got your yen. Water, juice, green tea, cold coffee, hot coffee, beer. It`s all there. But not so much soda. There are also vending machines with packs of cigarettes. Okaaay. Supposedly you have this special card to use those, but really. Smoking in Japan used to be so much worse than it is today, but there are still plenty of places where people are allowed to smoke, which is really a bummer. John used to work in Tokyo back in the day when you could smoke in the office at your desk. Can you imagine! They say it`s gotten much better and that while there is still plenty of smokers, it really has cut back.
Oh - and Tommy Lee Jones has this totally awesome I-look-serious-while-looking-up-and-away picture of him on the BOSS vending machines. It always makes me laugh.
Oh - and Tommy Lee Jones has this totally awesome I-look-serious-while-looking-up-and-away picture of him on the BOSS vending machines. It always makes me laugh.
A Work Day
.....asked me if I wanted to go to Ginkakuji and then walk the philosophers path along the eastern mountains to hear the temple bells at 5. Aw.
Yeah Right.
"I am going to sit by a river. Maybe that little deck where the willows weep into the water."
"Ah, I was planning on going by there later."
Looks like I am switching rivers. Besides, I need one of the larger rivers anyways...and I walked philosophers path Sunday evening in the rain. And I saw Ginkakuji in the spring. Sorry Kampai King, no alone time with the ginger. And actually, I am not sorry at all.
It was a work day. We pruned trees in the the Imperial Palace Garden Park grounds. Equiped with Japanese pruners, we went to work with the Imperial Palace gardeners and learned along side them. I can`t say that I subscribe to all of their pruning techniques, but there are some things I will incorporate into my gardening style. There`s a fine line between enhancnig a trees beauty and really showing off it`s structure by shaping and cutting, and pruning so deeply so that the plant feels like it can`t reach it`s potential and fulfill it`s purpose as a creation. Sometimes I think the trees here are a little hindered.
I will talk about other wrestles I have later in regards to the gardens here. Maybe wrestle isn`t the proper word...I just have to make some decisions.
I need some separation from the group. No matter how wonderful the dynamics and personalities are - I need some solo time to wander. To think and not think. To find a noodle shop and get a bowl of soba. I have had my udon and ramen. Now I just need soba. And as always, sushi. It`s been a blast going out everynight with various people to the different areas of Kyoto and discovering the streets, narrow and wide. Kyoto in the day is wondrous. Kyoto in the dark has a hint of intrigue. I have enjoyed the company of others so much and we have had wonderful times together. Just last night we were down in Gion. Wandering along the cherry tree lined canal, we crossed a stone bridge and ducked into a small restuarant. You never are really sure what you are getting. The hanging cloth with Japanese writing hangs over the top part of the doorway. We were seated on the floor with a inlaid skillet as the center of our low table. Our view was out to the low lit canal and the prices were fair. The food was excellent. As it most always is. Afterward we wandered more streets...just whatever took our hearts we followed. We passed a Geisha heading to work. To see one in person is simply exquisite! Beauty like a magnolia blossom. They really are breathtaking. Caucasians look so silly, okay - stupid, when they dress as a Geisha and powder their face white. Unless maybe your little girl is one for Halloween. I think our noses and eyelids are too big. That being said, Kimono is extemely comfortable to wear.
So tonight I am off on my own. Wahoo.
Yeah Right.
"I am going to sit by a river. Maybe that little deck where the willows weep into the water."
"Ah, I was planning on going by there later."
Looks like I am switching rivers. Besides, I need one of the larger rivers anyways...and I walked philosophers path Sunday evening in the rain. And I saw Ginkakuji in the spring. Sorry Kampai King, no alone time with the ginger. And actually, I am not sorry at all.
It was a work day. We pruned trees in the the Imperial Palace Garden Park grounds. Equiped with Japanese pruners, we went to work with the Imperial Palace gardeners and learned along side them. I can`t say that I subscribe to all of their pruning techniques, but there are some things I will incorporate into my gardening style. There`s a fine line between enhancnig a trees beauty and really showing off it`s structure by shaping and cutting, and pruning so deeply so that the plant feels like it can`t reach it`s potential and fulfill it`s purpose as a creation. Sometimes I think the trees here are a little hindered.
I will talk about other wrestles I have later in regards to the gardens here. Maybe wrestle isn`t the proper word...I just have to make some decisions.
I need some separation from the group. No matter how wonderful the dynamics and personalities are - I need some solo time to wander. To think and not think. To find a noodle shop and get a bowl of soba. I have had my udon and ramen. Now I just need soba. And as always, sushi. It`s been a blast going out everynight with various people to the different areas of Kyoto and discovering the streets, narrow and wide. Kyoto in the day is wondrous. Kyoto in the dark has a hint of intrigue. I have enjoyed the company of others so much and we have had wonderful times together. Just last night we were down in Gion. Wandering along the cherry tree lined canal, we crossed a stone bridge and ducked into a small restuarant. You never are really sure what you are getting. The hanging cloth with Japanese writing hangs over the top part of the doorway. We were seated on the floor with a inlaid skillet as the center of our low table. Our view was out to the low lit canal and the prices were fair. The food was excellent. As it most always is. Afterward we wandered more streets...just whatever took our hearts we followed. We passed a Geisha heading to work. To see one in person is simply exquisite! Beauty like a magnolia blossom. They really are breathtaking. Caucasians look so silly, okay - stupid, when they dress as a Geisha and powder their face white. Unless maybe your little girl is one for Halloween. I think our noses and eyelids are too big. That being said, Kimono is extemely comfortable to wear.
So tonight I am off on my own. Wahoo.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Pathways
The first day of the seminar we had a lecture by Ken Kawai on pathways. I learned more than I had hoped, and gained understanding in areas in which I was not expecting.
In Japanese pathway is Michi, derived from the two characters Mi, meaning sacred or beautiful, and Chi, meaning direction.
Pathways; a beautiful and sacred direction.
The many paths in Kyoto were purposely created to lead one from a secular space to a sacred space.
I find all of the above very interesting, like the depth of layers in parable. And I am not going to go off and share my thoughts and ideas about this just yet. Maybe in a month or two I shall. One thing I have learned during the past week is that one should let others have time to develop their own thoughts and creations about ideas before you share your own. It makes for a more even/equal and well-rounded conversation afterwards.
In Japanese pathway is Michi, derived from the two characters Mi, meaning sacred or beautiful, and Chi, meaning direction.
Pathways; a beautiful and sacred direction.
The many paths in Kyoto were purposely created to lead one from a secular space to a sacred space.
I find all of the above very interesting, like the depth of layers in parable. And I am not going to go off and share my thoughts and ideas about this just yet. Maybe in a month or two I shall. One thing I have learned during the past week is that one should let others have time to develop their own thoughts and creations about ideas before you share your own. It makes for a more even/equal and well-rounded conversation afterwards.
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