Autumnal shades

Asa and I went for a quiet walk today, to take in the Autumnal shift in colour.  It was a reminder that I do not have long left in Japan and the chill in the air reminded me of home. 

Kokoro 3

Here is the next image from the kokoro tryptych. This is going to be number 3.  The background was printed with antique green going into antique black.  The same pallette as before has been used - the Iridori Holbein colours. On this and the subsequent block, no nori has been used. This is to texturise the image.

Then a blue layer.

Then a gold and yellow layer.

Then a brown layer.

Then a purple layer to bring out detail on the hat.

Finally a grey/black layer, which provides the shadow on the hat and the outline of the face and the front line of the kimono.  There is also a small amount of magenta on the lips.

This image is based on a traditional Japanese dance to celebrate the end of Autumn.  So far the two images have been the head and the feet.  Now to complete the tryptych one final image is required, that of the heart.  

Residency..

As promised a couple of days ago, here are some pictures of the residency studio.  This is the view over Awaji from where my desk is.

This is the studio. 

And finally my desk.  Here all my brushes and carving implements are laid out ready for work.

And finally, this is one of the new blocks I have been working on since we moved studio on Monday.  I am creating three images, based on some of the patterns within Noh theatre. By patterns I mean both of the costumes that are worn during the performances and the patterns of movement that the actors use.  This is a five block print which will be built up in twelve passes. This is the keyblock, or to use laymans terms, the block that is printed first and every other block aligned to.

Underneath the pond

Yesterday we went to the Water Temple built by renowned architect Tadao Ando. He designed the temple to be underground, beneath a 41m wide pond of lilies. Here is the entrance.





Here are the steps down to the temple.



Here is the inner sanctum. The fact that above my head lotus flowers were blossoming in the pond was not lost in the occasion.







Outside there was a small shrine. As usual, I left offerings and a prayer. Making the shrines a way of connecting to what I am doing with my woodblocks is having an effect. The simple stillness and austerity of the places create an inner silence, which feeds into the work. It's nice when the shrines are in places where there is no noise. There are lots of them hidden away at the side of the road and searching them out brings their reward. They also demand a certain respect, such as keeping a low voice and acting in a manner fit for the environment.


I enjoy seeing the seasons change as I visit each shrine. It serves to act as a timely reminder that everything changes and turns into something else. The drawing in of the cold nights of winter reminds me of home and the onset of Christmas, but also the temporality of any problems I may be having with my work, or life in general. For me, shrines are places where the past exists as fleeting memories, rooting me firmly in the presentness of the moment. Places where tradition and the modern world can live harmoniously, as long as one remembers the other.



I will be going to Kyoto in three weeks to spend four days looking round some of the sacred sites in the locale. I will be staying here.
I want to go to Tozando, which is a shop specialising in Japanese swords and Iaido equipment and I have a few things to buy for people from my dojo. I am looking forward to the trip as it will be a nice farewell to a country I am starting to love very deeply. I then get back from Kyoto on the 8th December and fly back to the UK on the 13th in time for Christmas.

Monasticism and the moon.

Here in Japan there have been many special moments.  They are fleeting, somewhat poetic and difficult to describe.  On Monday we moved into the studio at the residency to continue our work.  It took a day to get into a new routine but now I have everything where I need it to be and am pretty settled.  My most enjoyable moments are in the evenings at around 10.30pm when everyone else has headed off to bed or are in their rooms catching up with family and friends back home by email.  I use this time to be in the studio and for an hour or so, it feels very meditative.  I am able to gather my thoughts from the day, sift them and focus on my woodcuts.  I switch all the lights off apart from my overhead lamp and for that period of time, it seems that there is nothing but the wood, the image and whatever I am doing to the image. I'm not even really aware of myself whilst it is happening.  I seem to be producing very precise work at this time of night, so will be using this time in the future for delicate work that needs the correct mindset.

I took this picture of the moon tonight.  It seemed particularly bright. Living in a big city back home, there is too much light to get a moon shadow.  Tonight everything was lit up by its delicate rays and I saw my own silhouette on the ground. It was one of those nights when everything was as it should be; timeless and yet rooted very firmly in the present.