illustration friday (suspend)

Japan traditionally celebrates the Tanabata festival (sometimes referred to as the Star festival) each year on July 7. This festival honors the legend of the star-crossed lovers Hikoboshi (the star known as Alter) and Orihime (the star known as Vega) who can meet only once a year from opposite banks of the The River of Heaven (the Milky Way).  Although the specifics vary from region to region, and some of the northern regions (like ours) wait until August 7, the celebration always involves large or small branches of bamboo hung with pretty-- often symbolic-- paper decorations, and rectangular strips of paper on which children write down their wishes. This is illustrated in the etegami to the right. The Japanese words say: "One night's dream."

The etegami at the top of this post shows a type of ornament for which the Sendai Tanabata Festival in northeastern Japan is famous. These are huge, colorful, ball-topped streamers that are suspended from either horizontal or vertical poles-- rows and rows of them hanging high above the heads of the festival goers. It is an awesome sight. The writing says "The stars in your eyes are sparkling."

the big haul (misuzu kaneko series #1)

I recently became a fan of poet and songwriter Misuzu Kaneko. I had long been aware of her poems for children, but until recently I had never wondered about the poet herself. Now that I know more about her, I am hit harder and more deeply by her works than I was before.

Like the butterfly in the previous post, this was painted on a double-sized washi card that I've been experimenting with lately. It doesn't have the same bleed factor as my usual brand, but I'm trying to learn how to use it to its full potential.

I've tried to translate the short poem that inspired today's etegami, but I haven't been able to capture the rhythm of the Japanese words, or convey the unsentimental pathos of the original. I will keep working on it. But the meaning goes something like this:

The Big Haul

Beneath a glowing sunrise,

the fishing boats return,

loaded with Ooba Sardines.

On shore, villagers celebrate like it's a festival.

In the sea, sardines hold a funeral

for their tens of thousands of mates.