fan-shaped etegami

Blueberries with a Robert Frost quote

Banana with a Groucho Marx quote

Ayu (sweetfish trout) with a haiku by Buson

I painted these etegami on fan-shaped washi cards and inserted them into "frames" that I made by gluing pretty paper onto stiff, rectangular cards cut out of file folders or cookie boxes.

These etegami could be removed from the frames and replaced with other  etegami in the same shape. You could use one frame for a whole pack of fan-shaped etegami if you made the frame a neutral color. Then you could change the etegami once a month, or at least once a season. What do you think?

illustration friday (lost)

If you are a fan of the author Alexander McCall Smith, raise your hand. His charming and thoughtful series The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency first introduced me to the African nation of Botswana and to Rooibos Tea (Red Bush Tea), which has since become my staple drink throughout the year. It has even been featured in my etegami.

Today I was reading The Dog Who Came In From the Cold (a Corduroy Mansions novel) by the same author, and I came across mention of a tea I had never heard of before. I googled "Malawian Lost Tea" and soon traced it to an African tea being sold by the Rare Tea Company under the name of Lost Malawi Tea.

This is how they describe it: "To compare this to an ordinary tea would be like comparing a line-drawing with a sculpture. This is like drinking normal tea but in 3-D."  Wow. Furthermore, "Each tin comes with a short story by Alexander McCall Smith."  Well, well, WELL!

the call won't come, i won't be the one

I Told Me So

I know, I know
I won't get my wish
The call won't come
I won't be the one.
Just sit back and sigh
As more chances go by --
See?  I told me so.

No hopes to dash
No hills to climb
No dreams to break
No chance to fail
No pain, no crying
Much easier than trying.
See?  I told me so.

I'm always right
So rarely wrong
No use stringing
My hopes along
No sweat, no strain
No fret, no pain
Just wait -- wait --
Wait --
Till it's too late.

Ha!  I told me so.

(This is a tongue-in-cheek poem by Vicki Patschke, written to poke fun at herself. But I was moved by it, as I am with all her poems. To see more of our etegami-poem collaborations click here and here)

keeping each other alive

mangosteens

Already eight years have passed since I first made the acquaintance of the frail Mrs.K. In our very first exchange of words, she told me she would become 86 years-old the following week.  She also told me that it would be her last birthday. I responded, How can you know this? It is in God's hands, and when the time comes, it comes, but not before. I had recently survived a very difficult period of broken health, and though I was the younger by nearly 40 years, I hobbled about insecurely on a cane, just as she did. We looked quite the pair.

When I told her that I painted etegami, her eyes brightened. I promised to send her an etegami birthday card, and before I knew it, I was sending her a new etegami every week. She often sat at the reception desk at our church, and as soon as I walked through the door on Sundays, her sad face would get animated and all she would talk about was the etegami of the week. Another year passed, then another, and another, and Mrs.K was still at the reception desk each week. I began to flatter myself with the thought that in some way my weekly etegami was giving her the will to live.

One day, there was a frantic message on my answering machine. It was Mrs.K asking why I hadn't sent her the usual weekly etegami. She said, Are you ill? Will I see you on Sunday? Is there anything I can do for you? I was quite sure I had sent her an etegami that week as usual, so I didn't know what to make of it. Had she gone senile suddenly? I wondered.

She was so relieved to see me on the following Sunday. My etegami had turned up after all. Someone had laid it on the shoe cupboard, and it had fallen through the space between the cupboard and the wall. It suddenly hit me. Mrs.K graciously and joyfully received each etegami I sent her, because she cared about me! My weekly etegami assured her that all was well with me. Perhaps subconsciously she believed that she was helping to prolong my life by being the recipient of my etegami.

I had to laugh. At myself. For my arrogance in thinking only of the value of my gift to her.  Until that moment I hadn't considered the great value of her gift to me. For each etegami there is a sender and there is a receiver. It is not truly etegami without the both of them.

etegami invitation cards

One of the Red Bubble groups I belong to is doing an Invitation Card Challenge. I was struck by the fact that I'd never done an etegami invitation card! In fact, the only invitation card I can remember ever making is a Hen Party invitation printed from a lino block carving. And that was decades ago.  At the time, having a small baby made it difficult to get together with friends. So I decided to invite them (with their babies if they had any) to socialize at my apartment.

For the invitation card challenge, I made the etegami posted here, and then tested it on the members of my Etegami Fun Club group on Facebook. The image itself passed muster, but many of the responders told me they understood "hen party" to mean a bachelorette party, which made the phrase "baby chicks are welcome" seem out of place. I checked the dictionary definition of hen party and it says "a social gathering restricted to women," but bachelorette party seems to be the most commonly listed interpretation. I guess common usage has changed over the generations. What do you think?

UPDATE: Guess what? This card won the Invitation Card Challenge I submitted it to. Yaaaaay!

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 tapir

My niece was married last weekend. They met through their mutual passion for tennis, but it was a conversation she had with him about tapirs that convinced her she had found her life-long partner.

Then, almost by accident, I came across this entry in a travel book called Traveler's Tales Thailand, by Alan Rabinowitz. He quotes an unnamed traveler as saying, "[the tapir is] an enigma... a survivor of a more gentle and legendary time ... wandering in unique isolation in a world not yet mature enough for its wisdom."

Did you know that the tapir is named after a creature in Chinese mythology? In Japanese folklore, the tapir (known as baku) eats people's dreams, especially nightmares. In fact, I grew up believing that the tapir was a dream-eating mythological beast, and only recently realized it was (also) a real live creature.