Showing posts with label pigeon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pigeon. Show all posts

Thursday, August 2, 2012

the blue period

Fog Cat

 I can't remember when blue wasn't my absolutely favorite color. And blue goes so well with poetry, don't you think?

The first two etegami posted here were experiments with watercolor inks and watercolor paper--materials I am not at all familiar with, as strange as that may sound to you. They are rare examples of the image coming to me before the words do. But as soon as I finished painting the cat, I just knew that it was the Fog Cat from the Carl Sandburg poem Fog.

Blue Pigeon


The words quoted on the blue pigeon etegami are from the poem Japanese Lullaby by Eugene Field.




Santoka's Owl
The barred owl was done in the traditional etegami manner, with my trusty and true sumi ink, gansai paints, and washi paper, as suits the classic Taneda Santoka haiku. All the originals are for sale on my Etsy shop.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

humanizing the quake (aomori)


Aomori prefecture is as far north as you can go on the main island of Honshu, and is separated by the Tsugaru Straits from my own homeland of Hokkaido, which is the furthest north you can go in Japan. One of the popular souvenirs that people bring home from their travels to Aomori is the Hato-bue (pigeon whistle). Actually, the word for pigeon and the word for dove are the same in Japanese, so you could also call them "dove whistles."

These roughly pigeon/dove-shaped, baked-clay tweeters go back to the Edo period (1600-1868), when, it is said, they were given to children as noisy toys in the belief that the racket would protect them from evil spirits. A hato-bue has a hollow center with a sounding slit on its belly and a tail that serves as a mouthpiece. The traditional ones are painted in pastel tones of purple, green, and pink.

In a fit of experimentation, I painted the words with a painting brush and gansai paint, rather than the usual writing brush and sumi ink. It gives a fuzzy, vague feeling to the whole etegami. The writing translates to: I moan like a dove, and is part of a heart-wrenching cry for help in oppressed circumstances. (See the rest of the passage in Isaiah 38:14-16).