Yasunari Kawabata

The first Japanese author to have received the Nobel Prize for Literature, Yasunari Kawabata is a name I had regrettably not heard before today. Having read and thoroughly enjoyed his short story "The Grasshopper and the Bell Cricket", I purchased his "Palm-Of-The-Hand Stories" - a series of short stories written over the span of his career - and greatly look forward to reading them!

I picked up also the collection of short stories "A Tranquil Star: Unpublished Stories" by Primo Levi (an Italian writer) and "Ecstatic Cahoots: Fifty Short Stories" by Stuart Dybek - an American author whose excellent article "The Surprising Power of Stories That Are Shorter Than Short Stories" introduced me to both previously named writers. In it, he discusses the dual visuality of haiku in their original form, speaks of poetry in fiction, and wraps up the article with the beautiful finishing lines: "Even though we all write on computers now, I still think of writing as words on paper. And when you write a story or a poem, it just illuminates. Meaning shines through words like light through cut paper, beaming out into the night, and projecting its image onto another person’s heart."

Colors of the World

Hey there! So I've had a project in the works that I debuted on Monday: Colors of the World! It's an artistic project exploring different cultures around the world, looking at traditional arts, textiles, patterns, culture, language and much more. Each month I'll be working on a new culture or country, posting a photoshoot at the beginning of each month and following it up with blog posts over on the website, so check it out! It's in its beginning stages still, but by the end of the month there'll be something of interest for everyone, and I'd love to have your feedback and support! Here's the LINK, and a sneak peak...

British Museum London

I'll be heading back to London again soon (nearly exactly one year after my last visit), so I thought now would be a good time to share some of my favorite photos from the British Museum. Taken in wildly different exhibits, here you have everything from the Netherlands to Greece!

 

Vi Hart

Victoria Hart is a self-described "recreational mathemusician", and does very neat things with - you guessed it! - math and music. Above is her video "Twelve Tones", a fascinating exploration of such songs as "Mary Had A Little Lamb" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" accompanied by neat little bits of information and some very cute drawings. It's funny, it's engaging, it's really very interesting, so check it out!

She has many other videos on her YouTube channel, and funny blog posts about the making of these on her website, so feel free to explore further. (Mom, you would probably enjoy watching her "Doodle Music" video with the little two!)

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.

Leck Mich Im Arsch

Did you know that Mozart composed a canon literally titled "Lick Me in the Ass"? I didn't know until just now. It's quite a fun canon, too, sung by six voices in a three-part round. It's uncertain what the original lyrics were, but it seems they might have just been repetitions of the line, "Leck mich im Arsch g'schwindi," of which the last word means 'quickly' and is 'geschwind' in its correct spelling.

The most common bowdlerized (censored, reworked) version translates to:
Let us be glad!
Grumbling is in vain!
Growling, droning is in vain,
is the true bane of life,
Droning is in vain,
Growling, droning is in vain, in vain!
Thus let us be cheerful and merry, be glad!

This is the canon - with notes and lyrics! Enjoy.

Belle Starr

Shed not for her the bitter tear
Nor give the heart to vain regret,
'Tis but the casket that lies here,
The gem that fills it sparkles yet.

The above poem is the epitaph on the tombstone of Belle Starr, the "Bandit Queen". A notorious American outlaw and leader of a band of cattle and horse thieves in the Oklahoma Territory, Belle Starr (born Myra Maybelle Shirley) married three different bandits and associated with other outlaw bands, most notoriously the James-Younger Gang (of which the most (in)famous member is probably Jesse James). A quote by her reads, "I am a friend to any brave and gallant outlaw."

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!

 

 

Psychopomps

Existing in many religions, a psychopomp is a figure that escorts newly deceased souls to the afterlife, and has been portrayed in many different ways. In Egyptian mythology, for example, Anubis is a jackal-headed god, being depicted as a protector of graves, an embalmer, and the god who not only ushers souls into the afterlife, but also weighs their hearts to determine whether the soul will be allowed to enter the realm of the dead.

Depicted (clockwise) above are several psychopomps: Hermes, an Olympian god from Greek mythology, Mercury, the Roman deity, Anubis, mentioned above, a horse, raven, whip-poor-will, cuckoo, owl, crow, sparrow, and hart. There are many other psychopomps (such as the Welsh Gwyn ap Nudd / Arawn), and in several cultures dead relatives (parents, siblings, forefathers) function as psychopomps.

The word psychopomp originates from the Greek word psuchopompus (ψυχοπομπός), which literally means "guide of souls", and when the depiction is of birds, they are often seen in huge masses, waiting outside the home of the dying. On perhaps an unrelated note, feel free to take a minute to read The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. One could imagine that the raven is a psychopomp who carried away the soul of "the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore"...

Anatolia Story - History

In my last blog post I introduced you to the historical fantasy manga Anatolia Story, explaining that after revisiting that manga (for the umpteenth time) I started reading up on the actual history behind the manga series. The mangaka (artist) really did an amazing job with it - the history is, for the most part, accurate, with only small modifications involving the Japanese protagonist. I highly recommend the series for an engaging glimpse into Hittite customs, clothing, religion and history!

The protagonist of Anatolia Story was most likely based on, or at least inspired by, the Hittite queen Puduhepa. A priestess of Ishtar (the goddess of love, war, fertility and sexuality), she married the king Hattusili III and is considered one of the most influential women known from the Ancient Near East. She was portrayed as reigning hand in hand with her husband and featured prominently at his side as he made his rulings and decisions, playing an important role in the Hittite court and international diplomacy of the period. Her husband Hattusili III was the fourth son of Mursili II, the love interest of the manga's protagonist Yuri Suzuki.

In actual history, the king Mursili II married a woman named Gassulawiya and had four children by her, also marrying and having (unrecorded) children with a second wife named Tanuhepa. He ruled from ca. 1321-1295 BC, succeeding his brother Arnuwanda II and being succeeded by his son Muwatalli II. Muwatalli II was succeded by his own son, but Mursili III only reigned for approx. 5 years before his uncle Hattusili III defeated and exiled him during the course of a civil war.

Confusing? Here's the order:
Suppiluliuma I (father) --> Arnuwanda II (brother) --> Mursili II --> Muwatalli II (son) --> Mursili III (grandson) --> Hattusili III (son)

The storyline of the manga series takes place during the time of Mursuli II, with Yuri arriving in Anatolia during the reign of Suppiluliuma I, living through the very short reign of Arnuwanda II, and marrying Mursili II not long after he assumes the throne. In the series both Suppiluliuma I and Arnuwanda II are killed through plots of Suppiluliuma's wife to place her only son (the youngest of the princes) on the throne; in actual history, both regents succumb to a plague brought to the Hittite Empire by Egyptian captives.

While Mursili II is portrayed as a born ruler in the manga, in Hittite records Mursili is stated to be relatively young and inexperienced upon his unexpected accession to the thone. His prosperous reign however shows that the fiction may not be far from the fact.

Battles and political complications portrayed in the manga are also generally accurate, though the final battle and peace treaty between Egypt and the Hittite Empire did not take place under the reign of Mursili II. The Battle of Kadesh was during the reign of Muwatalli II and was probably the largest chariot battle ever fought, involving some 5,000-6,000 chariots. Dating to 1274 BC, it is also the earliest battle in recorded history for which details of tactics and formations are known. The peace treaty concluded at Kadesh to end the conflict between the two empires is the earliest known peace treaty in world history and was decided between pharaoh Ramses II and king Hattusili III. (Fun fact: Ramses II was a redhead!) The Hittite king's wife, Puduhepa, played an important part in the discussions surrounding the treaty.
(Click the images to see them bigger, and don't forget to read right to left!)

However, during this time the Assyrians were gaining power, and Hattusili's son was the last strong Hittite king able to keep the Assyrians out of the Hittite heartland, though he lost territory to them. Soon after that the Hittite Empire met its end, with the capital city, Hattusa, being destroyed by the Phrygians and Aramaeans as part of the Bronze Age collapse. Suppiluliuma II was the last known king of the Hittite Empire, ruling c. 1207-1178 BC.

To put it into perspective: The New Kingdom of the Hittite Empire had its peak under King Suppiluliuma I, and met its end during the reign of the king's great-great-grandson (Suppiluliuma I --> Mursili II --> Hattusili III --> Tudhaliya IV --> Suppiluliuma II). Egypt was just entering its Twentieth Dynasty and the end of its own New Kingdom, marking the end of Egypt's most prosperous and powerful time. The two great powers of the time either disappeared completely or were conquered and ruled by foreigners.


It's really a fascinating time in history, and I highly recommend perusing the entries on Wikipedia a little! The History of the Hittites and the History of Egypt are fascinating - the latter being a lot longer and more complete than the former. (Fun fact: Most scholars believe that the Anatolian languages split from the rest of Proto-Indo-European much earlier than the other divisions of the proto-language! (Other "old" Indo-European languages are Sanskrit, Latin and Ancient Greek, among other languages. Hittite doesn't have the Indo-European gender system masculine-femenine, but rather a noun-class system with an animate-inanimate opposition. Neat!))

There really are so many interesting things about this time frame, and I hope this was a good introduction! What a fascinating topic.

Sapphic Stanza

Yesterday I came across the Greek poet Sappho and was fascinated not only by her poetry (most of which has been lost to time), but also by her life and reputation. I was particularly intrigued by the below quote by the 3rd-century philosopher Maximus of Tyre, which led to a very interesting journey along the pages of Wikipedia concerning Socrates and the other names mentioned in the quote.

"What else could one call the love of the Lesbian [note: from Lesbos] woman than the Socratic art of love? For they seem to me to have practised love after their own fashion, she the love of women, he of boys. For they said they loved many, and were captivated by all things beautiful. What Alcibiades and Charmides and Phaedrus were to him, Gyrinna and Atthis and Anactoria were to her ..."

Sappho wasn't a philosopher, but refreshing my memory on Socratic values and reading Plato's dialogue Phaedrus was just as interesting as learning about the Sapphic stanza, a meter Sappho may or may not have originated. It's an Aeolic verse form (Aeolic Greek being a dialect of Ancient Greek spoken on the Aegean island of Lesbos, where Sappho came from) that spans four lines.

With "-" for a long syllable, "u" for a short one and "x" for an anceps (or free syllable), the metric is thus:

- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u -  x  - u u -   u - -
- u u - u

Sappho's poems are, of course, in Ancient Greek (a language I unfortunately don't understand), but there is an excellent page here with a large number of her poems both in their original forms and their translations. There are, however, some rather humorous attempts by more contemporary poets to use the metric with English words. From Wikipedia, my favorites have to be this one by the Australian poet John Tranter:

Writing Sapphics well is a tricky business.

Lines begin and end with a pair of trochees;

in between them dozes a dactyl, rhythm

rising and falling,

like a drunk asleep at a party. Ancient

Greek — the language seemed to be made for Sapphics,

not a worry; anyone used to English

finds it a bastard.

and this one by Oxford classicist Armand D'Angour:

Independent metre is overrated:

What's the point if nobody knows the dance-form?

Wisely, Sappho chose to create a stately

regular stanza.

I made my own attempt, and after failing terribly in English I tried in in German. It worked out slightly better, but I believe my metric is flawed in more than one place. So tricky! But, to end this post, here's my attempt.

            Auch auf Deutsch ist's schwieriger als man denken
            würde; aber hey, einen Versuch ist's doch
            wert, nicht wahr? Da kommt man doch in's Probieren,
                      strengt das Gehirn an.

Turtles All the Way Down

Turtle from previous WIP!

After a lecture on cosmology and the structure of the solar system, William James was accosted by a little old lady.
"Your theory that the sun is the centre of the solar system, and the earth is a ball which rotates around it has a very convincing ring to it, Mr. James, but it's wrong. I've got a better theory," said the little old lady.
"And what is that, madam?" Inquired James politely.
"That we live on a crust of earth which is on the back of a giant turtle,"
Not wishing to demolish this absurd little theory by bringing to bear the masses of scientific evidence he had at his command, James decided to gently dissuade his opponent by making her see some of the inadequacies of her position.
"If your theory is correct, madam," he asked, "what does this turtle stand on?"
"You're a very clever man, Mr. James, and that's a very good question," replied the little old lady, "but I have an answer to it. And it is this: The first turtle stands on the back of a second, far larger, turtle, who stands directly under him."
"But what does this second turtle stand on?" persisted James patiently.
To this the little old lady crowed triumphantly. "It's no use, Mr. James – it's turtles all the way down."

—J. R. Ross, Constraints on Variables in Syntax 1967

The phrase 'turtles all the way down' seems to have originated in the form 'rocks all the way down', for which a similar story to the one above was printed in an unsigned anecdote about a schoolboy and an old woman living in the woods. (Unwritten Philosophy, 1838)

          In my school-boy days, when I loved better to rob birds'-nests and plunder orchards than acquire knowledge, I have often deserted the school-room and pursued the above-mentioned avocations in the forest, in my usual quiet manner. I recollect once, when having been lost in the intricacies of the wood, I stumbled upon a little hut. Being extremely thirsty, and rightly concluding that a spring would be found in its vicinity, I wended my way thither. I found it occupied by an old woman, of whom I requested a draught of water. It was soon furnished; and when I had despatched it, I was overwhelmed with questions.
          "Ar'n't you one of the 'cademy boys?" inquired she.
          "Yes, marm," was the reply.
          "Well, I declare!" ejaculated the old woman; "they say you learn queer things down there. Why, they say the world is round!"
          "The world, marm," said I, anxious to display my acquired knowledge, "is not exactly round, but resembles in shape a flattened orange; and it turns on its axis once in twenty-four hours."
          "Well, I don't know anything about its axes," replied she, "but I know it don't turn round, for if it did we'd be all tumbled off; and as to its being round, any one can see it's a square piece of ground, standing on a rock!"
          "Standing on a rock! but upon what does that stand?"
          "Why, on another, to be sure!"
          "But what supports the last?"
          "Lud! child, how stupid you are! There's rocks all the way down!"

The concept of the earth resting on turtles may have come from Hindu mythology, where the World Serpent, Shesha, is said to hold all the planets of the universe on his multitude of heads. The idea of several World Elephants holding up the Earth, they in turn standing on the back of a large turtle, may have come from confusion over the Sanskrit noun Nāga, which has the dual meaning of "serpent" and "elephant" (named for its snake-like trunk).

According to Bertrand Russell: "It is exactly of the same nature as the Hindu's view, that the world rested upon an elephant and the elephant rested upon a tortoise; and when they said, 'How about the tortoise?' the Indian said, 'Suppose we change the subject.'"

Balthasar Gracian - Aphorism #198

Aphorism #198: Know how to transplant Yourself

     There are nations with whom one must cross their borders to make one's value felt, especially in great
     posts. Their native land is always a stepmother to great talents: envy flourishes there on its native soil,
     and they remember one's small beginnings rather than the greatness one has reached. A needle is
     appreciated that comes from one end of the world to the other, and a piece of painted glass might outvie
     the diamond in value if it comes from afar. Everything foreign is respected, partly because it comes from
     afar, partly because It is ready made and perfect. We have seen persons once the laughing-stock of their
     village and now the wonder of the whole world, honoured by their fellow-countrymen and by the
     foreigners [among whom they dwell]; by the latter because theycome from afar, by the former because
     they are seen from afar. The statue on the altar is never reverenced by him who knew it as a trunk in the
     garden.

Catullus - Carmen 5

Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum severiorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus inuidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us judge all the rumors of the old men
to be worth just one penny!
The suns are able to fall and rise:
When that brief light has fallen for us,
we must sleep a never ending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand more, then another hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them all up so that we don't know,
and so that no one can be jealous of us when he finds out
how many kisses we have shared.

Been a bit under the weather these past few days with a very persistent headache, so I'm afraid this post doesn't have much thought behind it. I simply came across this poem today and rather liked it.
Hope you're all doing well!

Balthasar Gracian

Aphorism #150: Know to get your Price for Things

        Their intrinsic value is not sufficient; for all do not bite at the kernel or look into the interior.

        Most go with the crowd, and go because they see others go. It is a great stroke of art to bring

        things into repute; at times by praising them, for praise arouses desire at times by giving them a

        striking name, which is very useful for putting things at a premium, provided it is done without

        affectation. Again, it is generally an inducement to profess to supply only connoisseurs, for all

        think themselves such, and if not, the sense of want arouses the desire. Never call things easy or

        common: that makes them depreciated rather than made accessible. All rush after the unusual,

        which is more appetising both for the taste and for the intelligence.

When I read Siddhartha, at the bottom of each page there was an offer for subscription to daily updates - one for a daily sonnet by Shakespeare, and one for a daily aphorism from Balthasar Gracian's The Art of Worldly Wisdom (Oraculo manual y arte de prudencia). I subscribed to both.

Today's update from the Balthasar newsletter I found particularly interesting because it still applies to marketing and consumerism today - it's a gem of wisdom we all perceive in our daily lives, but perhaps couldn't have put quite as concisely and adroitly as the Jesuit priest did. I only recently subscribed to this newsletter, but I was already aware that this work is considered as relevant today as it was in the seventeeth century. In the words of the website, "While Sun Tzu's The Art of War and Niccolo Machiavelli's The Prince are generally concerned with affairs of the state, The Art of Worldly Wisdom ranks among the most notable and popular works of philosophical advice. Gracian influenced other such timeless and notable authors as Nietzsche, La Rochefoucauld, Francois-Marie Arouet Voltaire, and Schopenhauer, who translated his works to German."

You can read all of the aphorisms here, or subscribe to a daily aphorism here!

Siddhartha

Today I came across a great piece of literature, and devoured it within a matter of hours. Exquisitely written (and translated), the novel I speak of is Siddhartha, Eine indische Dichtung by Hermann Hesse.

I came across the English translation online and found myself drawn in by it, and welcome you to read it as well! It is the tale of an Indian man on his way to enlightenment, to reach the state of Buddha. The entire novel is uploaded here for our enjoyment, and contemplation. I myself am not a Buddhist, but the novel is deep and thought-provoking, following the life of Siddhartha as he searches the way through various teachings, from the ascetics through the worldly teachings of a courtesan to the simple life of a ferryman, and at last finds enlightenment.

The world, my friend Govinda, is not imperfect, or
on a slow path towards perfection: no, it is perfect in every moment,
all sin already carries the divine forgiveness in itself, all small
children already have the old person in themselves, all infants already
have death, all dying people the eternal life. It is nor possible for
any person to see how far another one has already progressed on his
path; in the robber and dice-gambler, the Buddha is waiting; in the
Brahman, the robber is waiting. In deep meditation, there is the
possibility to put time out of existence, to see all life which was,
is, and will be as if it was simultaneous, and there everything is
good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, I see
whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness,
wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only
requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be
good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever
harm me. I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sin
very much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed
the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all
resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop
comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection
I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy
being a part of it.--These, oh Govinda, are some of the thoughts which
have come into my mind.

I do highly recommend it, and am glad that I came across such an interesting piece of work today. I also read two short stories by O'Henry, of which I preferred the story The Last Leaf. It's... bittersweet.
So today was a very constructive day in terms of reading good literature! Have you read anything interesting lately? There's so much left for me to read and discover, but I find that I like these unexpected gems best.

Japanese Tea Ceremony

The other day I started reading up on the Japanese tea ceremony. It's such a complex and interesting tradition that I rapidly found myself caught up in it, reading about the tools, phrases, and of course, the tea.

The complex ceremony evolved due to the scarcity of tea from the Nara to the Heian period (794-1192), making tea a valuable and treasured beverage. From then on, the tea ceremony evolved until reaching the level of detail and sense of ritual that it has today. (Read about the influence of the Samurai and zen monks on the tea ceremony here!)

Called chanoyu (茶の湯), the Japanese tea ceremony is the ritualistic preparation of matcha (抹茶), powdered green tea. There is another, less common style using sencha - loose tea leaves like the ones we are familiar with. This tea ceremony is called senchado (煎茶道).
Matcha, however, is made from shade-grown tea leaves that are steamed and laid out flat to dry; as a result they crumble somewhat, and at this stage the tea is called tencha (碾茶). Tencha is also supposed to be very delicious, but if the tea leaves are taken and de-stemmed, de-veined, and ground, then you end up with matcha - a fine, vivid green powder that has great health benefits. One glass of matcha supposedly equals 10 glasses of regular green tea in terms of nutritional value and antioxidant content. Impressive!

If you had a look at the kanji (Chinese symbols), you'll have noticed that each one contains the kanji 茶, cha, which means tea. Japanese people will respectfully call tea "o-cha", as O is a prefix that shows respect. "O-cha" in Japan tends to refer to green tea, and Western black tea is commonly referred to as "koucha" (紅茶), which literally means "red tea".

Interestingly, matcha has experienced a surge in popularity outside Japan, being sold the world over in matcha lattes, chocolates, cakes, and a variety of other forms. If you should want to try matcha yourself, there's a very thorough and interesting review of matcha brands here!

The tea ceremony, however, remains an integral part of Japanese culture. 

I found it fascinating to read about the chanoyu (tea ceremony with matcha), and watched this video showing tea being prepared for two women. It takes a little while for things to be set up, so if you skip to 5:30 you'll see the woman preparing the tea (called a Teishu - the host of the tea ceremony) carefully folding a cloth napkin to wipe the lid of the container holding the matcha powder. The way she folds the cloth with slow deliberation into a shape that reminds of origami, then wipes the lid with careful strokes in the shape of the letter ko, こ, is captivating. Each gesture is clearly choreographed, the weight of tradition behind it.

Also of particular interest to me are the phrases and expressions used during the ceremony; it's a choreographed conversation between the Teishu (host) and Shokyaku (main guest), with only occasional comments between the guests. The Shokyaku, regardless of how many guests are present, is the only one to speak with the host.

Then, there are the items that the guests carry on them - if in the video you skip to 11 minutes, you'll see the younger guest pull a napkin out of the overlap of her kimono at chest height, proceeding to use it as a sort of dish to eat one of the provided candies. I was so surprised when she pulled the napkin seemingly out of nowhere!


There is a lot more to say about the tea ceremony, but these are the main points that were interesting to me. I definitely want to enjoy a proper cup of matcha someday! If you want to read more about the chanoyu, I highly recommend the webside www.japanese-tea-ceremony.net.

Bindi

Today I was reading up a bit on the bindi and tilaka, two forehead markings that characterize, but are not limited to, Hinduism.

The red dot on this lady's forehead is a bindi, a decoration worn in South and Southeast Asia.

I got onto this topic when reading about Indian widows celebrating Holi, the festival of colors. The topic matter is both saddening and horrifying (as apparently in some places widows are cast out and shunned after the deaths of their husbands), but I found myself intrigued by the markings on their foreheads. I knew about the bindi, of course, but the long, silver or gold markings surprised me. (To see the photos, click on the link - both the text and photos are worth a few minutes!)

Looking into it a bit, I found that the markings must be what is called tilaka, and presumably they only applied the color for the festival, though it's also possible that they wear it on a daily basis. The different styles of tilaka (or sect-markings) are quite neat, and though I didn't recognize any of the markings below on the photos, here are an assortment of tilaka styles as found on wikipedia:

While I could not quite figure out the origin or meaning behind the tilaka, the placement of both it and the bindi on the forehead is due to the sixth chakra, ajna, being positioned there. As such, the bindi represents the third eye.

Interesting, no? If anyone knows more about this, I'd love to hear about it! Comments are welcome.

Chinese New Year

I live in Tübingen, a rather international German city despite its relatively small size, and there are a number of Chinese families living in our area. With my mother’s help, these families got together and organized a New Year celebration on the 21^st of February that we were all invited to attend!

At midday on Saturday we made our way over to the gathering place to find it overrun with adorable, cheery-faced Chinese kids – I don’t think a single one of them was over the age of eight! So sweet.
The parents were either hanging up decorations (like this, for example) or preparing dough and fillings for dumplings, which would then be prepared by everyone together – guests included!

Just before we started making dumplings, I realized I hadn’t thought to bring a camera and instead drew this with the only pen I could find. There were a lot more tables and a lot more people than pictured here!

Then people started gathering around the tables with mounds of dough and minced meat or carrot fillings; chopping, rolling and wrapping, and I joined some of my siblings at a table with some Chinese ladies. It was my first time wrapping dumplings, and a lady I already knew from one of Mom’s English groups, Dan (yes, that’s her real name), showed me the trick to wrapping Chinese dumplings. I tried to draw the process, but was unsure how to properly show the trick to folding over the dough. You can check out a blog post with many excellent photos here!

One of the Chinese ladies liked it so much that she took a photo. It’s so poorly drawn, though!

There were so many dumplings to be wrapped that finished and cooked (boiled) dumplings were being brought out even as we wrapped more – but oh, were they good! The meat filling had celery in it, which I typically don’t like but enjoyed in the dumpling, and the carrot filling was equally delicious. To dip we had what I believe was a soy sauce and vinegar dip, with garlic added for a bit of extra zing. There were side dishes of radish salad and cold rice noodles.

In Korea, they say that wrapping beautiful dumplings for the New Year means that you’ll have beautiful daughters; I don’t know if it applies to Chinese dumplings wrapped shortly after the New Year, but Anastasia and my dumplings were very beautiful indeed! Interestingly, Chinese dumplings supposedly symbolize wealth because their shape is similar to that of a Chinese sycee – a gold or silver ingot currency used in China until the 20^th century.

After lunch we were in for a little show – some members of a nearby Wu Shu academy came by to do an authentic dragon dance and various fight sequences with bare hands (and lots of kicks) or a variety of bladed weapons (with very flexible metal blades). The teacher that accompanied the (clearly not Chinese) students was Master Zhuo Haojun, who is a highly qualified Wu Shu trainer. Having not only won the Wu Shu World Championships (back in 1994), he has worked as a professional stuntman in Kung Fu movies (doubling even for such well-known names as Jet Li) and is the trainer of the German national team. We didn’t know all that in advance, but as soon as we first saw him move it was clear that he was extremely competent, and we would have loved to see more! I think his sister, who is equally well-qualified and founded the academy in Tübingen, was also there, but she mainly remained in the background, letting her brother take the spotlight. 

That’s the two of them there!

I think Dominic and I are both tempted to join a course at their academy – I particularly liked the loud slaps and stamps, especially when they’d do a high kick, slapping their foot loudly as it sped over their head, then bring it down with a loud stamp. It made for a very powerful rhythm.

That was my experience at the Chinese New Year celebration! 2015 is the year of the goat – or the sheep, or ram, depending on region or preference. The Chinese word yáng refers to both goats and sheep, and apparently the zodiacal yáng is more likely to be thought of as a goat in the south and a sheep in the north in China. 

The Year of the Sheep is believed to be a year of promise and prosperity, and the Sheep reflects the Earth and Yin: A passive or female principle, covert and shaded, soft and yielding. This year is considered a good one for family and creativity. Sounds perfect to me!