be of good cheer

CHEER

Like the waxwings in the juniper,
a dozen at a time, divid- ed, paired,
passing the berries back and forth, and by night- fall, wobb- ling, piping, wounded with joy.

Or a party of redwings grazing what
falls—blossom and seed,
nutmeat and fruit—
made light in the head and
cut by the light,
swept from the ground,
carried downwind, taken....

It's called wing-rowing, the wing- burdened arms unbending, yielding, striking a balance,
walking the white
invisible line drawn
just ahead in the air,
first sign the slur,

the liquid notes too liquid, the heart in
the mouth melodious, too close, which starts
the chanting, the crooning, the long lyric
silences, the song of our undoing.

It's called side-step, head- forward, raised- crown, flap-
and-glide- flight aggression, though courtship is
the object, affection the compulsion,
love the overspill — the body nodding,

still standing, ready to fly straight out of
itself—or its bill-tilt, wing-flash, topple-
over; wing-droop, bowing, tail-flick and drift; back-ruffle, wingspread,
quiver and soar.

Someone is troubled,
someone is trying,
in earnest, to explain;
to speak without
swallowing the tongue; to find the perfect
word among so few or the too many—

to sing like the thrush from
the deepest part
of the understory, territorial,
carnal, thorn-at-the-throat,
or flutelike
in order to make
one sobering sound.

Sound of the breath
blown over the bottle,
sound of the reveler
home at dawn, light of
the sun a warbler yellow,
the sun in song-flight, lopsided-pose.
Be of good-cheer,

my father says, lifting his glass to greet a morning in which he's awake to be with the birds: or up all night in the sleep of the world, alive again, singing.

Stanley Plumly

Stanley Plumly, "Cheer" from Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 2000 by Stanley Plumly.

in summer's eyes

1805

.さし汐も朝はうれしやとぶ乙鳥
sashishio mo asa wa ureshi ya tobu tsubame

high tide
and a happy morning...
swallows flying

1806

.蓮の花燕はとしのよらぬ也
hasu [no] hana tsubame wa toshi no yoranu nari

among lotus blossoms
the swallows don't
grow old

1807

.巣乙鳥の目を放さぬや暮の空
su tsubame no me wo hanasanu ya kure no sora

baby swallows in the nest--
eyes glued
on the evening sky

1807

.山里は乙鳥の声も祝ふ也
yama-zato wa tsubame no koe mo iwau nari

mountain village--
even the swallows sing
in celebration

1814

.乙鳥よ是はそなたが桃の花
tsubakura yo kore wa sonata ga momo no hana

swallows--
these peach blossoms belong
to you

david lanoue is who does so many of the wonderful issa translations i feature here, often with his commentary. just wanted to say thanks, david.

teaching it, part 1

we have looked at some of the books for teaching art during the japonisme era, here, and here, for example. i want to go further into those books, and explore several others.

perhaps seeing this lovely little floral line- drawing, you think 'japonisme!' or at least 'art nouveau!' well, in 1910 the new york board of education did neither.

here's what they said, never examining any of the implications: "the ornamental value of using a natural form for decorative purposes is dependent upon the rejection of small details, refinement of forms, clear edges and flattened values and color."

this is precisely the description western artists and critics relied upon to describe japonisme, and to incorporate the principles into their work.

i could find very little encour-agement or inspiration in this entire (short) book; it recommended rote and caution at every turn.

"the vital factor of order and system, dependent upon mathematics, is so important that it would be well if every designer, young or old, could be made to respect it. the finest creations in the history of decoration have obeyed the laws of geometry however shrouded such laws may have been. only in art's decline do we find the designer throwing away in his conceit the very factor that would be his work's salvation."

yes, it is possible, in japanese floral patterns to find the evenly repeated design, but more frequently we find asymmetry. can this, though, be called geometric? maybe so.

"a word of caution, however, may not be amiss. there is a fascination in watching the development of a surface design by the simple repe- tition of a unit which causes in many schools far too much time to be spent upon it.... the feeble teacher is tempted to produce a quan- tity of such designs whose results are showy but of little practical value."

and though they might have been their best teachers, students were cautioned, "pen and ink draw- ing is to be but cautiously resorted to for elementary work. it copies from pen and ink drawings of popular illustrators have almost no educational value."

their hearts were in the right place, going about, in the only way they knew, the job of teaching how to imbue the line with grace and beauty. 'design and representation,' found at the internet archive, leaves it to you to decide.

the two gorgeous iris prints are from a japanese seed catalogue from the 1880s; i have put a DR in front of all the images from the textbook; the textiles image is taken from a chôbunsai eishi print. the rest are names in their labels. i just don't think i would have liked that class.

a thesis of weaves and hallows

Beware of gnawing
the ideogram of nothingness:
Your teeth will crack. Swallow it whole, and you’ve a treasure
Beyond the hope of Buddha and the Mind. The east breeze
Fondles the horse’s ears:
how sweet the smell of plum.

Karasumaru-Mitsuhiro (1579-1638) 1

PINE

The first night at the monastery,
a moth lit on my sleeve by firelight,
long after the first frost.

A short stick of incense burns
thirty minutes, fresh thread of pine
rising through the old pine of the hours.

Summer is trapped under the thin
glass on the brook, making
the sound of an emptying bottle.

Before the long silence,
the monks make a long soft rustling,
adjusting their robes.

The deer are safe now. Their tracks
are made of snow. The wind has dragged
its branches over their history.

Chase Twichell

“Pine” by Chase Twichell from The Snow Watcher published by Ontario Review Press. © 1998 by Chase Twichell.

THIS LITTLE GLADE, REMEMBER

When lying beneath a ponderosa
pine, looking up through layers
of branches, mazes of leaf-spikes

and cones—contemplation grows
receptive to complexity,
the pleasant temptation of pine-
scented tangle. Sky as proposition
is willingly divided and spliced
into a thesis of weaves and hallows.

Name them something else
if you wish, but needled shadow
and substance are, in this hour,
an architecture of philosophy.

And a rising wind, called ”a rough
and bawdy wind“ by a rough and bawdy
voice, is that wind and that voice
transformed. The structure of words
sways and bends in the blow.

Looking away into the clear sky, expectation shifts. Vision becomes/ a welcome to guests
of crows in new/ dimensions who themselves become/ not only depth and horizon
in a circus/ of wings but old vision’s startling visitors.

Not soul alone, but soul consumed
by a single bee descending into the center
of a purple mountain lily is soul
to a soul suckled in sleep.

Earth and human together
form a unique being. A brief era
of immortality is lent to each
by the other. Move momentarily
now—with hovering granite cliff,
with sun-stripe flick of perhaps
vagrant shrew, with raised tack
of mightly larkspur—into this company.

Pattiann Rogers

“This Little Glade, Remember” from Generations.
Copyright © 2004 by Pattiann Rogers.

becoming lily pond

NIGHT

I have minded me
Of the noon-day brightness,
And the crickets' drowsy
Singing in the sunshine...

I have minded me
Of the slim marsh-grasses
That the winds at twilight,
Dying, scarcely ripple...

And I cannot sleep.

I have minded me
Of a lily-pond,
Where the waters sway
All the moonlit leaves
And the curled long stems...

And I cannot sleep.

Adelaide Crapsey (1878–1914)

people change their names for many reasons: for luck, to hide, to reveal...

For Thais, names are loaded with significance and having the wrong one can bring untold misfortune. Over the past 10 years, the trend for changing one's name has grown alarmingly. Last year in Bangkok alone more than 50,000 people registered new names. And they weren't just changing their first names. Thais can also change their surnames whenever they like, as long as they choose an entirely unique name.

Unlike the West, where parents often choose a name for their child well before it's born, Thais name their children when they know the exact date and time of birth, consulting books, monks and astrologers. Some dates are particularly auspicious - such as the King's and Queen's birthdays. Those lucky enough to give birth on those dates can apply to the Palace for a name. If you're not willing to trust to luck, doctors are more than happy to book you in for a Cesarean in advance.

--Sarah Strickland 1

many jews changed their names when they first arrived at ellis island. or had them changed. then after the second world war, many first generation American-born jews went into an all-too-understandable hiding, and names were changed so success may be pursued.

but for me, it was instead a revelation. since i was 14, tigerlily had been my secret name. maybe i got it from peter pan. it just felt more like my real name than the one i had been given (which, not coincidentally, had been yelled so often i wanted never to hear it again). nine years pass, and i am a hippy in san francisco. i've left the haight behind and now live in the castro near a wonderful health food store named agapé.

i needed to be free of some people i had gotten involved with, so i moved, left no forwarding address, and changed my name. since i had a friend staying with me at the time whose name was now fern blossom, i decided now was the moment to take my 'real name.' i needed a last name too, so i became lily pond.

it was 1973. it was around this time of year so why not?: today marks the official 35-year anniversary of my name. but wait -- i said something about revelation. isn't this just as much about hiding too? it was at first. but the name took root, and the symbol became increasingly important to me. i went to kyoto to tour lily ponds. i built one.

my name was revealed to me, and, thankfully, i listened.