The change of seasons

This morning I exchanged the winter obi covering the altar table in the front hall, with its scene of birds and snow, for this one scattered with pretty pastel spring blooms. So serene.

We rotate our home's interiors based on the Japanese aesthetic concept called shun - seasonality. When a new season arrives - according to the weather, not the calendar - we change our seasonal displays and our decorations - cushions, throws, candles. It is rare that these occur at the same time, but this year the weather gained ten degrees on the first of September. Lovely.

Along with the change in our interiors, so is there a change in the rhythm of our days. Jemimah packed her morning books into a bag this morning and headed out to the hammock with the dog and a long glass of iced water. Gone are the days of snuggling under her blankets to read - de rigueur only a week or so ago. She'll read our there for an hour or so, and then come back inside for a piece of fruit and a narration, and a bit of table work. Perhaps this afternoon we'll head out to the recliners on the deck while I read Ben Hur aloud. I'd like that.

I've learned that its not worth spending too long over-scheduling our days. We have a list to get through by the end of each day, week, and term, but the order will change not only with the season, but also with our mood, or simply on a whim. A day like today simply screams 'come outside'. Postponing that nature walk simply because its not on the schedule until Thursday seems counterintuitive, somehow.

Adjusting our days like this seems sort of peaceful. It allows time for a morning perigrination around the garden, coffee in hand, to inspect the abundant spring growth. It lets us discover new birds like the Blue-faced Honeyeater we spotted this morning and then learn more about them in our field guide. A Charlotte Mason education allows plenty of time for these rabbit trails, because it encourages learning all the time, not just in school hours, and those school hours can be done in a morning - or an afternoon, as you choose, but don't take up both. There is still time for living.

Today there are little reminders of spring all around my home. Camellias, freesias, orchids. They make me feel really happy. And the best bit? It will be spring tomorrow as well. And every day for the next three months. And then it will be summer. And you know something? I love summer too, and the long evenings,and the holidays and Christmas. Plus, I have a lovely collection of summer obis to enjoy on the altar table in the front hall.

He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. Daniel 2:21 NIV

 

Japanese lit reads 2011

I suppose it was inevitable really, that a love of Japan and a love of books would some converge into a love of Japanese literature, but it hadn't ever really happened until this year. Oh, I'd read a number of books about Japan, some of them were even written by Japanese authors. I loved The Book of Tea by Okakura Kakuzō, and In Praise of Shadows by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki, for example, but both of those were really essays on wabi sabi aesthetics rather than J-lit per se. I also have a kinda pash on geisha, so I've read lots of geisha books too.

It took A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami - one of my 2010 book club choices to introduce me to the J-lit genre. And with this one novel I was seriously hooked. I started reading my way through this intriguing man's surreal and mysterious works, one by one. Then on to other authors.

And now it's the end of 2011.

And here is my list of Japanese books read in 2011:

1. Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami


2. Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami


3. Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto


4. Moonlight Shadow by Banana Yoshimoto


5. The Housekeeper and The Professor by Yoko Ogawa


6. After the Quake by Haruki Murakami


7. The Lake by Banana Yoshimoto


8. The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino


9. Thousand Cranes by Yasunari Kawabata


10. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami


11. The Girl who Leapt through Time by Yasutaka Tsutsui


12. The Stuff that Nightmares are Made of by Yasutaka Tsutsui


13. 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

Some of them were better than others. If you want to try some J-lit yourself, The Housekeeper and The Professor is marvellous. I loved The Lake as well. The Girl who Leapt Through Time is okay for kids. Despite all of the hype, 1Q84 is a big disappointment. Apart from that one, though, Murakami is invariably pretty good. Dip your toe in and see if you like it.

People read for various reasons. Some read for self improvement. If I read this book it will make me a better person. If I read that one I will be a better Christian, even. Others read through a sense of obligation. Reading is good for you, so I must have three servings every day regardless of whether I like the taste of what I'm reading or not. Some read only what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy. Some read to learn. I read for all these reasons, but most of all I read because I love to read. It gives me great pleasure to settle down with a good book. It is one of these bestest things in my peaceful world.

When I read J-lit I learn more about a country that intrigues me. I learn what makes this sometimes closed and enigmatic people tick. I learn about a different world view. I learn what they think about me as a gaijin. I learn what they think about about my Christian God. I love the sense of gentleness that pervades these books. They make me feel nice and peaceful somehow. They transport me to another world. (And with Murakami, then sometimes that's literally another world!)

Currently I'm reading Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. Oh yes, I realise again why I like this man's work. And why 1Q84 is hopefully an aberration. Kafka is full of Japanese literary references. It's even set in a beautiful library:

Before coming to Takamatsu I found out some wealthy man from an old family in the suburbs had renovated his personal library into a private library open to the public. The place has a lot of rare books, and I heard that the building itself and the surrounding garden were worth checking out. I saw a photo of the place once in Taiyo magazine. It's a large, Japanese-style house with this really elegant reading room that looks more like a parlor, where people are sitting with their books on comfortable looking sofas. For some reason that photo really stayed with me, and I wanted to see this in person if someday the chance came along. The Komura Memorial Library, the place
was called.

Japan, Books and Murakami. What's not to love?! (Well, except the cat scene.)

If you want to know more about J-lit, In Spring it is the Dawn is my very favourite blog on the topic. Start there. She taught me everything I know.

While there you might want to join the Haruki Murakami Reading Challenge for 2012. I have. Next year I hope to read After Dark, Pinball, 1973 and South of Border, West of the Sun. Which will make me a Sheep Man. Maybe I'll even read more. I'll see. What about you? Wanna be a Hajime and read one book? Or maybe more?

Maybe like me, this will be the start of something new and exciting. I hope so. I'd love your company!

Home Alone 2

My plan to hit some of Melbourne's second-hand bookshops today was derailed by the inclement weather. Instead I indulged myself with a much coveted new copy of Axel Vervoordt's sublime design book, Wabi Inspirations.

The book guides the reader through Vervoordt's beautiful interiors in Belgium, Switzerland, Japan and Korea, all the while explaining the author's interpretation of that most elusive Japanese aesthetic known as wabi sabi - the beauty of wear and imperfection.

I've had a lovely afternoon flipping through the pages of my lovely new book, air fragrant with a lovely Jo Malone Sweet Lime and Cedar candle. I've nibbled on a Godiva truffle or three whilst listening to the Departures soundtrack and sipped a cup of Husk's Peppermint, lemongrass, rosebud and aniseed herbal tea whist listening to the rain on the tin roof. Quite the perfect afternoon.

From Yojiro Takata's Departures film comes my family's tradition of stone letters. Here's the scene if you'd care to take a look.



Tomorrow I'll be heading to Geelong for church and to see my family. What are you up to?

Tsubaki

Camellias. Tsubaki. The Japanese call them 'Samurai Flowers' because of their propensity for losing their heads whole.

Potoro Potoro

I love them; possibly because they flower in the middle of winter. Harbingers of the much longed-for warmth of spring. Soon we will emerge from fuyu gomori 冬篭 - our warm cuddly winter hibernation - and enjoy days in the sunshine once more.

The camellia reminds me of that.

東海道五十三次

... Living only for the moment, turning our full attention to the pleasures of the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms and the maple leaves; singing songs, drinking wine, diverting ourselves in just floating, floating; ... refusing to be disheartened, like a gourd floating along with the river current: this is what we call the floating world...

Asai Ryōi 浮世物語 Tales of the Floating World 1661

1 Nihonbashi

The beautiful woodblocks of ukiyo-e, 浮世絵, tell the story of old Japan - a Japan closed and isolated from the rest of the world - a Japan of fleeting beauty, of geisha, kabuki, courtesans, sumo, samurai and daimyo. They tell the story of the floating world, a time of transience and impermanence.

Early ukiyo-e portray urban life and culture. Although today we generally associate the term with prints, it was as books that the genre first developed and was most popular. Guidebooks and picture books were widely available. Later landscapes and nature as subjects became more common.

Andō Hiroshige 安藤広重 drew during the early 1800s and was one of the major printmakers of this period. His series, The Fifty-Three Stations of the Tōkaidō is our focus for Picture Study during this term as we prepare for our own visit to the floating world of Japan in only a few more weeks.

On the Tōkaidō Highway near Hakone in 2005

The Tōkaidō Highway, linking the shōgun's capital of Edo, to the imperial capital Kyōto, was the main artery of old Japan, and formed part of a system inaugurated by the shōgun of Japan, Tokugawa Iyeyasu, in 1603. From Nihon-Bashi, the great bridge over the Sumida River, just opposite the palace of the shōgun in Edo, roads radiated throughout the island of Honshū,and from this point all distances were measured.

Iyeyasu demanded an annual visit to Edo from all the daimyo; and twice a year these territorial lords travelled the roads, stopping at the posting houses along the way. Fifty three of these post stations at various points along the highway provided stables, food, and lodging for the daimyos and their entourages as they travelled its 514 kilometre length.

In 1832, the printmaker Hiroshige travelled the length of the Tōkaidō from Edo to Kyoto, creating numerous sketches of his adventures along the way. He used these sketches to produce a series of fifty five prints - one for each post station, plus one each for the start and end points of the route. The prints are Hiroshige's best known works and are amongst the most popular of all ukiyo-e prints. They portray the adventures that Hiroshige experienced during his journey, as well as the day to day activities of the people he encountered along the way. Together they form an ideal medium for a study of old Japan.

So which to choose? The beginning and end points are obvious, as as Hakone, the posting house and check point we visited back in 2005.

Hakone Sekisho -the Menbansho of the Hakone checkpoint where Sekisho officials from the Odawara Domain inspected male travelers making their way along the highway.

After some consideration we selected the other three prints to make up our term's picture study on their subject matter alone.

1 Edition 1 Nihonbashi

11 Hakone

14 Hara

36 Goyu

37 Akasaka

55 Kyoto - Sanjo Ohashi at Keishi

Exquite, aren't they? To think they're carved out of wood first! You can see the prints in this video:

There's more on Hiroshige here:



Learn more about the process here:



I could talk more about each beautiful print - that, after all, is the purpose of Picture Study Charlotte Mason style, but if I did that before you'd studied the picture then I'd really be getting in the way between you and it. The time for discussions like that is after looking at and really seeing the piece of art - not before.

If you look in on us during this subject, Jemimah and I will be discussing what is happening in the picture, the colours and techniques used, whether we like it and why. We will be looking at clothing, events and locations. We will be learning about Old Edo. Mostly, though, we'll just be looking at the work of an exceptional artist and appreciating the beauty he has wrought from God's creation.

Just before he died Hiroshige wrote this poem.

I leave my brush in the East
And set forth on my journey.
I shall see the famous places in the Western Land.

Andō Hiroshige 1858

With apologies I write,

I leave my worries in the West
And set forth on my journey.
I shall see the famous places in the Eastern Land.

I shall try not to bore you to tears with preparations for our journey to Japan in May. Are you interested in hearing more about our Japanese studies or is this enough, already? Do please tell me. I'll cope with the criticism.

I do get so overexcited sometimes. Such a kid.

Tony Takitani

Oh my! Look what I found on Hiki's site tonight? Doesn't it look and sound dreamily ethereal?

You can read all about it on Jollygoo.

Winter

Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing

The winter storm
hid in the bamboo grove
and quieted away

A peaceful post as a balm to my busy week - a peek at the winter obi on our hall table and three of Basho's winter haiku.

Enjoy

Now then, let's go out
to enjoy the snow... until
I slip and fall!

Shiritori en Français!

Oh, I do like this sort of pretty frivolity - Hiki at Jollygoo did it for her - Thanks Hiki!



If you click on the image below you'll see Jemimah's shiritori set, and then visit Hiki's beautiful blog, Jollygoo to see what a shiritori set actually is...



Kawaii!

Autumn

The liquidamber dressed in her autumn finery.

Scattered with maple leaves
Where no one stepped
My garden path is better left unswept.

Kawahigashi,Hekigodo 1873 - 1937

The first frosts of the year creep up on us. We're just begining to think that summer's going to last forever, when woosh - here it is - autumn.

I love to set aside time for autumn walks of discovery, especially after the first rains. We love studying the colours of the turning leaves, the way one side of a tree turns red, while the other side fades into yellow. We love the way the claret ash outside my window now changes colour from the top down, the red merging into the green. We love the beginning of new growth, of the mushrooms and other fungi pushing through the ground.

We rotate our home's interiors based on the Japanese aesthetic concept called shun - seasonality. When a new season arrives - according to the weather, not the calendar - we change our seasonal displays and our decorations. We bring large branches of autumn leaves into our home and plan our decoration around their myriad of colours. We bring out the cushions of angora in shades of brown and beige, and store the red silk ones that have graced our sofas and chairs. We change the summer obis that decorate our tables and tansu cupboards for ones of maple leaves in restful shades. In this way we feel as sense of tranquility - of a natural quiet harmony with our Creator. He brings us peace.

Piles of golden autumnal obis await their seasonal resting places.

Autumn is a time of abundance in our garden too. It brings harvests of rocket and coriander. It signals the end of the basil season and we spend hours picking bunches of fragrant herbs to make into pesto to freeze for the cold months of winter. The green tomatoes become chutney.

We cook up delicious mushrooms with butter and garlic and smother them onto sourdough toast. It is funny how much better mushrooms taste when they're picked straight from your own land.

Autumn for us is a time of reflection and assessment.

Our God is good.

He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding.
Daniel 2:21

Fun stuff!

This is a bit of fun.

Check out the collage we made with some of our pics from our trip to Japan in 2007

A Literary Stocking Stuffer

Regardless of what you think of the jolly fat man in the red suit, you've gotta admit that he's pretty good at gauging the level of twaddle and rubbish that goes into each child's stocking. Some kids' stockings are filled with Bratz dolls, The Day My Bum Went Psycho, The Secret Seven and Morris Gleitzman books - ours aren't. Theirs contain colour-within-the-lines activity books - ours don't. Some have chocolates, lollies and chewing gum - not ours...(okay, there's always chocolate - who am I trying to kid?)

Now you are entitled to your opinion of Andy Griffiths, Enid Blyton and Morris Gleitzman as authors. You can decide how much rubbish your kids are allowed to eat on Christmas Day - what I'm trying to point out is that Santa seems to know your cut off point - intuitively. Call it Christmas magic, fairy dust or clever elves - whatever it is, Santa is one pretty clever old man..

Unfortunately, at 6 3/4, Jemimah's twaddlometer is not so finely calibrated as Santa's is. She is instantly attracted to anything glitzy, glimmery, sparkly or shiny. She loves Charlie and Lola and she's pretty keen on Bratz dolls too, even though she know I don't approve of dolls that wear fishnet stockings and sexy bikinis, no matter how gorgeous their hair is. She's also really keen on trashy (to Santa and me) preteen girl's magazines - Totalgirl or Barbie, for example - especially if they contain some cool hair fastener or even better some lip gloss or eye makeup (Come on - Barbie's aimed at 5-8 year olds, for goodness sake; Totalgirl from 6-12!).

I don't have anything against magazines per se - a glance at my coffee table is likely to reveal an issue or two of Kateigaho International Edition - to partly assuage - or maybe to fuel - my passion for Japan's Arts and Culture. (The 2009 Winter edition arrived the other day - I can't wait to read about the culinary art of makizushi; shakyo calligraphy; teahouse games; and the beautiful resort of Tenku no Mori in the Kirishima mountain range.) You also may find me fantasising over the latest copy of The English Garden or cooking up a storm in the kitchen with the latest Donna Hay open in front of me.

No, my issue is not the idea of her reading a magazine - it's the content. Call me old fashioned, but I don't want my 6 year old knowing about the latest pre-teen celebrity disaster. I don't want her reading an article that tells her to lose weight or how to style her hair to attract boys and I don't want her seeing advertisements showing girls in sexy poses and wearing T-shirts with "Flirt" written across the chest. Most children's magazines are at best full of twaddle and at worst, morally dangerous.

This year Santa has come to the rescue yet again. Come Christmas Morning, Jemimah will find peeking out the top of her Christmas Stocking an entirely parent approved present - the latest edition of a brand new magazine for young Aussie kids, Alphabet Soup.

There are no gimmicks - no glittery toys or enticements to buy – this is simply a magazine for kids 6-12 that is aimed at kids who love to read and love to write - Charlotte Mason educated kids - kids like Jemimah. The debut issue is out now. When Jemimah settles down to read it after lunch of turkey and plum pudding, she'll find an interview with children’s author Jackie French, book reviews, stories and poems and lots of kids writing. There's a writing competition that she may decide to enter, writing advice and a nonfiction piece about volunteer fire fighters.

Santa assures me that she'll love the bright front cover and the fun child-like illustrations on every page. He says she'll have no trouble with the large, clearly spaced type. You know, I trust Santa so completely that we've subscribed for a year - and it was only $25.00 too.

Thanks, Santa.

Hanging of the Greens

Gathering Mistletoe 1886 Frederick McCubbin

This weekend our home dons its Christmas finery.

This evening we will change the obi on our Chinese altar table (its original function, not its current one!) from one decorated with the cherry blossoms of Spring to one of our decidedly non-wabi sabi Christmas ones. We have maru obis of green and gold; red and silver; black, red and gold. Tonight we will decide which one will decorate our hall this festive season.

Our Christmas tree will assume its position in the front window of our home in readiness for the family tree triming rituals tomorrow night. The wreath will be mounted on our front door, and the mistletoe that we gathered this afternoon will be hung in the hall.

Jemimah will drink her favourite Swedish Julmust; her parents will continue the Scandinavian theme with Glögg, a delicious Norwegian mulled wine drunk warm with raisins, apple and almonds stirred through. We will nibble on pepparkakskola - a wonderful Swedish gingerbread toffee and Scottish shortbread (which is normally made on Stir-up Sunday, but is cooling on the kitchen bench as we speak!) In more normal years we also munch on Australian White Christmas...not this year though...

Through the sound system will waft the sounds of Edith Piaf singing Le Noël de la Rue, Andre Claveau crooning Noël sans vous and Gloria Lasso with Mon Noël and Noël de Nicodème along with Enya, Loreena McKennitt, Bryn Terfel, Kiri Te Kanawa and Joan Sutherland. (Our Christmas music collection is as multicultural as our Christmas is!!)

Christmas is not here yet, but it will be, very soon!

I hope you will enjoy reading about our multicultural Christmas traditions (however they happen this festive season) during the coming days.

Tomorrow we open our Advent boxes and Deck the Halls. The much anticipated basket of Advent books come out again - one for the 24 days of Advent. The Christmas decorations, recipe books, candles, table decorations and nativity will all be oohed and ahed over.

The season will have begun. I can't wait!

Japanese aesthetics 101

It is entirely appropriate, I am sure, to begin my first foray into explaining our love of Japanese aesthetics with a children's book on philosophy.

Our home is decorated using a wabi sabi style of interior decoration. Wabi and sabi are Japanese words describing a simple organic decorating style that emanates tranquility (take a look at a room we stayed in on our last trip to Japan and you may get an idea of what I mean.)

You can see that I'm struggling here, so imagine how Wabi Sabi the cat feels one day as she overhears his mistress discussing his name with a couple of overseas visitors. When asked what wabi sabi means, the young woman replies, “That’s hard to explain.” Curious, Wabi Sabi sets out to find the true meaning of her name. Each creature she asks tells her how difficult the concept of wabi sabi is to explain, and each ends their thoughts with a little haiku poem describing wabi sabi.

It isn’t until the cat meets a wise monkey who makes her tea in a plain and beautiful bowl that the phrase begins to take on a real meaning.

A warm heavy bowl
comfortable as an old friend -
not fine, smooth china.

Wabi sabi is the feeling you get when you find harmony in the imperfect. Wabi sabi is simple, rustic, earthy, sophisticated, organic, elegant, textured and beautiful. It is peaceful, tranquil, calm.

By the end of the book Wabi Sabi truly understands her name. Perhaps by reading the book you will too.

Jemimah loved this book, but then again wabi sabi has always been part of her life and reality. As I read the book, I wondered somewhat about its intended audience. The idea of a cat searching for the true meaning of its name is something that young kids will grasp easily, but the added haiku in the text, seems to imply that the book is aimed at older children.

If you were studying haiku with your child then this book would make a natural literature link, teaching a little about Japan at the same time as learning about Japanese poetry. Normally when a child learns about haiku they are handed an anthology of poems that are separate from one another. What Wabi Sabi does is to place haiku poems within the context of a story, much the same way as many of the great haiku writers did, where short prose passages set up each haiku. Matsuo Basho, perhaps the greatest haiku writer, recorded many of his wanderings around Japan in this way, known as the haibun style.

My favourite of Basho's haiku, written in 1686 is this:

furuike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto

old pond
a frog jumps
the sound of water

The haiku calms the reader - you find yourself reading with a quieter voice - and as a result, you gain some of the influences of wabi sabi just by reading about it. Maybe it will calm your children too! Finally, my very favourite haiku written by Kobeyashi Issa:

A moonlit evening
Here beside the pool, stripped to the waist
A snail enjoys the cool

You can hear the former US Poet Laureate Robert Hass reading a translation of Issa's haiku here. (Please listen before playing this to your kids!) Now, nobody could call that poetry boring!!