towel brush koinobori

This big-eyed blue fish is my latest koinobori etegami. Koinobori are carp-shaped windsocks that are flown from flag poles for Children's Day Festival, symbolizing parents' hopes that their children (especially sons) will grow up to have perseverance, strength, and courage. I used a "towel brush" instead of the standard writing brush for the lines in this one. A towel brush is made by fastening a bit of terrycloth towel around the tip of a chopstick. It has the advantage of being hard to control and gives me the awkward lines I love so much. The writing says: "The Word of the Lord is my Lifeline"

Below, you can see two more koinobori etegami out of the many I've painted in past years:

children's day once again

Kodomo no hi (Children's Day festival) is celebrated in Japan each year on May 5. There are many, many traditions associated with this holiday, the most popular probably being the colorful and picturesque koinobori (carp-shaped windsocks). These magnificent windsocks are flown from flag poles in backyards and fields, or ropes stretched across rivers, to symbolize the strength and bravery of carps swimming against the current.  I can't count how many versions of koinobori I have painted over the decades, and they continue to fascinate me as a subject for etegami.

This year, however, I recycled an old etegami I had painted of kashiwa mochi, a confection traditionally associated with this holiday. Kashiwa mochi are dumplings made of pounded rice, stuffed with sweet bean paste and wrapped in an oak leaf.  In Japan, oak trees are seen as a symbol of the prosperity of one’s descendants. The leaves are not edible, but they transfer a nice earthy fragrance to the mochi.

When I say I recycled one of my old etegami, I mean that I cut up this old, slightly faded etegami, then glued a part of it to a card I had cut out of a shopping bag from a famous traditional Japanese sweets shop. I had been saving the bag for just such a purpose.

The words, which I added with a white gel pen, translate roughly to "While my children go forth into the world and battle dragons, I will stay at home and eat kashiwa mochi." I tried, at one level, to express my pride in my children, and on another level, my relief in knowing that my part in preparing them for the world was mostly successful. I can relax now and enjoy my tea and dumplings.

round washi cards

There's a kind of high-end, hand produced washi paper that I really like called Chikuma-sen, which I used for hand painting all my business cards a long time ago. It has less bleed than the Hakuryuu cards I prefer for etegami these days-- thus better suited for detailed work. Yet the paper is soft to the touch, and the colors blend together almost as well as on a card with higher bleed. My supplier started offering round Chikuma-sen cards in sets of five, so I ordered some this week.

Each card is 18.7 cm in diameter (a little less than 7 1/2 inches), and can be sent "naked" through the mail (without an envelope) if stamped with a little more postage than for ordinary postcards. But I've decided to use them to paint ornamental etegami to display in my own home during the upcoming Hinamatsuri (Doll's Day, often called Girl's Day, on March 3) and Kodomo-no-hi (Children's Day, often called Boy's Day, on May 5) festivals.

There's something very forgiving about the round Chikuma-sen; the gansai paints are easy to apply, and when my will isn't enough to make up for my lack of skill, it makes the work appear tidy and balanced anyway.

children's day give-away

You may remember this etegami from when I first posted it as part of my earthquake/tsunami memorial series. It became widely known after it was printed onto T-shirts and mugs to help raise funds for disaster relief, and it will always have a very special place in my heart. It depicts the carp windsocks (koi-nobori) that we fly from flagpoles to celebrate the Kodomo-no-hi (Chidren's Day) festival on May 5th of every year. Carp, which are known to swim against the current, symbolize our hopes that our children will grow up to be healthy, strong, and courageous against adversity.

The original is made of two parts: two cards taped together to make one long card. It has fulfilled the purpose for which it was painted, and I'm finally ready to let go of the original cards. I've separated them, adding words to the side that didn't have words, and my name seal to the side that didn't have a seal. The writing can be translated as "We're all connected" or "We're in this together." If you'd like one of the cards (I can't say which you'll get if picked), please tell me so in a comment below. On Sunday, May 5th, I will pick two "winners." I plan to laminate the cards and mail them without envelopes.

the japanese iris

Shobu (or shoubu), is the Japanese Iris, a flower associated with the Japanese festival commonly known as Kodomo-no-hi or  Children's Day (May 5). In spite of the name, the festival mainly celebrates "boyhood," the way Hina-matsuri or Doll Day (March 3) celebrates "girlhood." Along with the koi-nobori (carp windsocks) that I have blogged about many times in the past, the Japanese Iris is one of several things displayed on Children's Day that symbolize the traditional "manly virtues" that parents hope their young sons will develop as they grow up to be men. The shape of the narrow leaves of this plant are reminiscent of the Japanese sword carried by the ancient warrior class, and the word Shobu has the same sound as another word that bears the meaning of bravely facing a challenge, or testing oneself in battle.

Challenge-themed quotes from 1 Thessalonians 5:8 (left) and 1 Corinthians 9:24 (right)

humanizing the quake (children's day)

Like February 3 (bean-throwing festival) and March 3 (doll's day festival), May 5 is one of the "seasonal divisions" that we celebrate during the year in Japan. We call this day Kodomo-no-Hi (Children's Day), the day on which we express our hope that our children will grow up physically strong and courageous against adversity. One of our customs is to run huge carp-shaped windsocks called koi-nobori up a flagpole set up outside specifically for that purpose.

When I was little, the festival was for boys, and people hung as many koi-nobori as there were boys in the household. Nowadays everyone in the family gets represented. Sometimes villages will stretch a rope across a stream or between two buildings and hang enough koi-nobori to represent the whole community. It's an amazing sight when the wind blows, making the koi-nobori appear as though they are swimming vigorously against an imaginary river current and leaping over imaginary rapids.

Today, thanks to the assistance of volunteers from all over the country, special Children's Day programs were held for the children in evacuation centers all over the Tohoku region. I don't know if there has ever been a Children's Day that meant as much to me as it did today. I trust that these kids will successfully maneuver the trials that they face, and that they will grow up to be strong and courageous adults.

The Japanese words on the etegami at the top say "we are all connected."

children's day festival

When we make etegami, we try to reflect the season. Maybe that's one reason why we're sticklers for drawing from observation rather than our imagination. You wouldn't normally draw a watermelon in January, or a tangerine in July, because that would be out of their season.

Another way to mark the seasons is to draw subjects that reflect certain holidays of the year. It so happens that Japan is in the middle of Golden Week, a series of holidays beginning on April 29 and ending on May 5. May 5 is Children's Day (formerly known as Boy's Day) and we traditionally eat a sweet called Kashiwa Mochi on that day. It's a simple sweet consisting of a ball of sweet bean paste enclosed inside mochi (made from rice flour), and then wrapped in an oak leaf. I posted a recipe for this sweet, along with an explanation of the symbolism, on my wagashi (Japanese confections) blog if you'd like to take a look.

Now, you may remember that last year I celebrated Children's Day by drawing a carp. More specifically, a Koi-nobori, or carp-shaped streamer like those which are flown from flag poles all over Japan at this time of year. They represent the parents' prayers and wishes that their children will grow up to be strong against adversity, like the carp is said to swim against the current.

It always adds something to an etegami if you can find a postage stamp that represents the same season as the drawing. I had a postage stamp left over from last year that depicted a Koi-nobori, and even though it's in a denomination that is more than the required postage for a postcard, I decided to use it for this year's Children's Day card. So I'm feeling rather pleased with myself.

The attached etegami depicting Kashiwa Mochi is accompanied by words which translate roughly to mean "My thoughts are drawn to my son who is far away." May you be able to celebrate Children's Day with your children (or your parents) this week, and if that is not possible, may your thoughts be for one another.