Bonsai

A bonsai (盆栽, literally "plantings in tray")is a tree that is carefully pruned and shaped to remain a diminutive size while mimicking the style and shape of mature, full-size trees. The Japanese art of bonsai began in the 6th century, when Japanese diplomats brought back penjing (盆景, literally "tray scenery") from mainland China, though the Japanese repidly developed their own aesthetics for the art.

From Wikipedia: "Generally speaking, tree penjing specimens differ from bonsai by allowing a wider range of tree shapes (more "wild-looking") and by planting them in bright-colored and creatively shaped pots. In contrast, bonsai are more simplified in shape (more "refined" in appearance) with larger-in-proportion trunks, and are planted in unobtrusive, low-sided containers with simple lines and muted colors." (It seems, however, that different regions of Japan developed different styles - by the late 1860s Tokyo and Kyoto had different styles when it came to bonsai, and neither approved of the other.)

In Utsubo Monogatari (Tale of the Hollow Tree, year 970), Japan's oldest full-length narrative (a literary style comparable to the epic), there is a passage that illustrates the Japanese mindset in this point in history fairly well: "A tree that is left growing in its natural state is a crude thing. It is only when it is kept close to human beings who fashion it with loving care that its shape and style acquire the ability to move one."

One has to say, though, that Japanese aesthetics are manyfold and intricate, considered in Western society as more of a philosophy than anything else while within Japan they are considered an integral part of life. A key point of Japanese aesthetics is mono no aware, a concept originated by Motoori Norinaga in the 18th century, which describes empathy towards beauty. In his Shibun Yoryo (The Essentials of the Tale of Genji, 1763), Norinaga describes it as such:

For instance, if a man, viewing beautiful cherry-blossoms in full bloom, appreciates them as beautiful, he is aware of mono no kokoro or the heart of the thing. Being aware of the beauty of the blossoms, he is moved by it. That is, he is sensitive to mono no aware. In contrast, if a man, whatever beautiful flowers he sees, does not feel them to be beautiful, he is not aware of mono no kokoro. Such a man is never moved by the beauty of the flowers. That is to say, he is not sensitive to mono no aware.

In Japanese culture, a main point of life is to appreciate ephemeral things such as the cherry blossoms, and this certainly extends to bonsai, for which there are many rules. These little trees are trimmed and shaped to best reflect wabi-sabi, perhaps the most important of Japanese aesthetic ideals. This ideal concerns the elegance in imperfection, simplicity and age. In art books, it is typically defined as "flawed beauty". Being moved by wabi-sabi is to be sensitive to mono no aware, and I hope you feel a part of these concepts when admiring the below bonsai from the Japanese collection of the National Bonsai & Penjing Museum at the U.S. National Arboretum.

Japanese Maple, in training since 1906

Hornbeam, in training since 1935

Japanese White Pine, training date unknown

These miniature trees are cultivated over decades, often more than a century, but I do have to giggle at the phrase "in training since"! An interesting turn of phrase to use for trees. It makes me think more of martial art than the art of careful trimming.

Makuragaeshi

Japanese folk tales have a lot of different ghosts and spirits, many of them geared towards silly or terrifying pranks (such as creating typhoons at funerals, luring humans off cliffs by rolling downhill in the shape of a sake bottle, or sneaking up behind women in the street at night and cutting off their hair). You can check out some of these strange and interesting monsters in these illustrations that describe their anatomy, and if you're familiar with Japanese tales you will be unsurprised to see that quite a few of them consume human souls. There are, however, differing tales in which certain spirits will be more or less dangerous: The Bisha-ga-tsuku, for example, is also said to simply pass you by if you invite it to.

Yesterday I came across a spirit called Makuragaeshi,  which translates to "pillow flipper" or "pillow mover", and thought it was too neat not to share. It's a ghost that haunts specific rooms in a house, and the main thing it does is - you guessed it - flip people's pillows while they sleep! They may also run through ashes and leave dirty footprints all over the house, or sit on a sleeping person's chest to squeeze the air out of their lungs, or, in some of the more sinister tales, steal someone's soul while they're unconscious.

The Japanese do like their soul-stealing spirits.

The Makuragaeshi is generally said to take on the form of a small child dressed as either a Nio (Buddhist guardian), a monk, or a samurai, of which I chose to illustrate the second. Dirty footprints lead up to the bed, where a girl sleeps restlessly, the Makuragaeshi pressing down on her chest as it removes the pillow from under her head. A small smile curves the prankster's lips as the girl's breathing becomes labored... Whether or not it also steals her soul is left to your imagination.

[Edit 07.10.2015: I found out today that the origins of the words "nightmare" and "Alptraum" (English and German, respectively) are of a creature that would sit on the chest of a sleeping person, putting pressure on their lungs and giving them bad dreams. The original word, "mahr", is Germanic, and an "alb" is a demon or elf. How neat!]

Saris

I find myself mildly obsessed with the sari, an South Asian draped garment. Basically a glorified strip of cloth, the sari is wrapped around the body and draped until it hangs elegantly, the fabric often dyed in vibrant colors and embroidered in intricate patterns.

This mild obsession started when I came across the below image of a sari paired with a corset (which I can assure you is not the traditional way to wear a sari), and I was struck by the figure the model cut.

From there it took off and I scoured the internet for further images, happening across the website Shree Designer Saree and flipping through their catalogue and saving my favorite images. Something I find rather amusing is that they will describe the different saris with different adjectives: Keen, insightful, beneficial, savoury, miraculous, transcendent, amuse... Not sure how those describe the saris (I was particularly amused by "pathetic"), but have a look!

 

Despite the vibrant beauty of the above images, however, I find myself wishing I could try a sari-and-corset combo in the style of Zessinna - it looks so striking!