Monday, August 13, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
playing with my owl stamp


Having discovered that I collect owl paraphernalia as a hobby, a friend of mine carved an owl from a rubber eraser for me to use as a "mood stamp" on my etegami. Instead, I've been having loads of fun experimenting with it as the focal image of my etegami, trying it out against a variety of backgrounds. I've posted several examples here that share the same accompanying haiku by Santoka for easier comparison. In the spirit of even more experimentation, I used inks and methods that were completely new to me. All the originals have been mailed off to postcrossers.
Monday, August 6, 2012
illustration friday (bounce)
In Issa's haiku, Kasa often refers to the headgear sometimes translated as "umbrella hats." But here, I chose to interpret kasa to mean the traditional, bamboo-framed umbrellas that were covered in waxed paper. I'm sure many of you have seen one, or even bought one as a souvenir. They are also called wa-gasa (Japanese umbrellas) nowadays to differentiate them from modern, western-style umbrellas. I love the sound of rain bouncing against a wa-gasa. And I can easily imagine how my heart would jump if a camellia blossom ever plopped onto one while I was inside it.
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 |
Labels:
blue,
Carl Sandburg,
cat,
Eugene Fields,
owl,
pigeon,
poetry,
Sanoka
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
illustration friday (lonely)
Desert Places
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it - it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less -
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars - on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it - it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less -
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars - on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Robert Frost
Sunday, July 29, 2012
7239 thank-yous
![]() |
| (1) Still trying to figure out how to tell her |
Etegami is the perfect way to thank someone, whether you find it easy to express your feelings, or quite the opposite. A few months ago, the Japan Etegami Society (JES) announced a call for thank-you etegami. They received a total of 7,239 submissions. Many of these are included in the August issue of Gekkan Etegami, the JES official monthly magazine, and all submissions will be on display this summer at the two main etegami galleries, one in Tokyo and the other in Osaka.
I wish I could show them all to you, but I only have space here for a few sample etegami. The tiny photos in the magazine didn't scan very well, sorry.
![]() |
| (2) I wanted to make your life easier |
(1) To my wife: Not sure exactly what the image represents, but the man who submitted this etegami is from a generation of men that do not easily express their emotions. He wants to thank his wife for putting up with him through thick and thin, but he finds it difficult to simply say "I love you."
(2) To my parents. A pink carnation for the artist's late parents: "I can finally afford to do much to make life easier for you, but now it's too late."
![]() |
| (3) I found a hobby |
![]() |
| (4) I can tell that Mother is happy |
![]() |
| (5) I was so happy I cried. |
(6) To my mother: The artist likens the love and protection she received from her mother to broad beans in their soft fuzzy pod.
![]() |
| (6) Thank you for being the support of my heart |
![]() |
| (7) Thank you for loving her |
![]() | ||||
| (8) Yummy looking sand-rice |
![]() |
| (9) No one can take your place |
(8) To my grandchild: Toys in a Sandbox. The artist thanks her young grandchild, through whom the world looks bright and full of hope.
(9) To my good friend, who is like no other.
![]() |
| (10) Let's separate the trash according to the rules |
![]() |
| (11) Sorry I work you so hard. |
![]() | ||
| (12) wild flowers on the path |
![]() |
| (13) You are the greatest therapist |
(10) To the hard-working garbage collector: I'm always grateful for what you do.
(11) To my bicycle: Thank you for taking me up the hill to the hospital through rainy and windy weather.
(12) To the wild-flowers blooming at the edge of my walking path, thank you!
(13) To my pet cat: The warmth of your body brings me healing.
(14) From the tsunami survivors to all in Japan who prayed for us and sacrificed for us after the March 11 disasters.
(14) From the tsunami survivors to all in Japan who prayed for us and sacrificed for us after the March 11 disasters.
![]() |
| (14) The heart of the Japanese |
Monday, July 23, 2012
illustration friday (carry)
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds. You may have heard this line before, as it is often quoted in films and books. I had the vague impression it was the official creed or motto of the United States Post Office, but apparently the USPS has no such thing. According to Wikipedia, the words derive from a paragraph in Herodotus' Histories, referring to the courier service of the ancient Persian Empire.
The version accompanying the image of a carrier pigeon (top) is what Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld novels, uses as the motto of the Ankh-Morpork Post Office. (If you love the Discworld novels, this is where you shout Hip Hip Hurrah! at the top of your voice). HIP HIP HURRAH
The etegami on the right depicts my hard-working mail carrier who is, quite literally, deterred by neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of the dark, snowy Hokkaido winters. I remember clearly when they did this all by bicycle. These days they maneuver our narrow streets, made narrower by the treacherous ice and snow, on their trusty scooters.
I will be sending this etegami to my local post office. The Japanese writing on the card is read okage-sama de, and is often translated "it's all thanks to you," but it really means much more. I have discussed this wonderful term in this post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
























