I’ve begun to get a small obsession with sitting in different Kyoto, Zen temples with dry raked and or moss gardens.
My favourite so far is Daisen In temple where I sat with a Japanese architect viewing the gardens in wonder together – but no photos were allowed of this astonishing place – I do have Instagram reels of the temples – @traceydoxey. Sitting on at ancient wooden verandas surrounding these gardens, I usually end up facing south whereupon, I get my knitting out
I’ve begun to take instax shots of them. Some work, some don’t.
I have already had so many wonderful experiences but for me, the most memorable things about kyoto are the Zen dry gardens, and knitting in the sunshine. No one moves me on, I can just sit there with everyone filing past at their own paces. I’m in heaven.
Yesterday, at Tofuku- Ji temple, (my 2nd visit) I was knitting in the warm wonderful winter sunshine on the great wooden veranda facing the south garden with a backdrop of Japanese wedding photography, when I saw a man with a rake and knew what he was about to do.
I thought the raking was a secret, I thought the gardens are raked before people arrive but here he was, beginning to rake the 8 great oceans. Everyone there was silenced in great respect of his skill.
When I arrived, there was a wedding photography session going on – with the ancient temple as a backdrop. Sometimes, the photos are real, sometimes they are dress up. But yesterday, was real. I sat on the veranda beside the 81year old grandma of the bride. We were both chasing the sun. She was delightful – I mean full of delight and must have been all of 4ft 8. I gestured if I could take her photo. She had no idea what the instax was. So I took 2, one for her and one for me. She was astonished. She chose the one she wanted and laughed and laughed. We sat together for ages. The wedding photographer even took our photo
I feel very lucky to have seen all of this at Tofuku-ji but it is about spending lengthy time in one place, engaging with the environment fully and the people within it. Then, you never know what will happen.
If you are a reader of this post and love reading about Kyoto and love knitting, I will give 20% off any of my patterns for the new year – runnin for the next 24 hours use the code – blogpost
After waiting for it to open, to being completely overwhelmed by the contents of the tiny place, from listening to the owner who is the 18th generation of over 400 years of the same family, to sell sewing needles, in this tiny place – down an alley in a shopping mall – to restraining myself and replacing the initial selection. Then, after buying my painstakingly considered choice, I sit in the zen garden in front of the tiny shop hoping for the jade green bird with the white circles round it’s eyes to return. A steady stream of women visit and ponder the wonders of sewing needles. Not just any sewing needles but French ones and Japanese ones for silk kimonos, long ones for denim and then, the very special hand made ones which are so very expensive that I still don’t think they pay enough for the skilled craftsman who hand-makes a steel needle with an eye for sewing thread.
I ponder the wonders that I have just seen – some of which, I cannot see well enough to see the eye at the end of the finest needles hich a Japanese seamstress uses. The owner, explains to me he lost his hair in 2000, whilst he is pulling out small cane woven baskets from under the counter, containing sewing needles in their neat rows related to sizes, which are placed inside a neatly fitted cushioni. So when I look and try to figure out which needles my friend in Shetland might want, he patiently tells me the story of each size and what they are for. I choose us both the same – French needles – sizes 6 and 7’s then we have a hope of threading them. I buy a pack of 8’s and also a tiny hand-made pin cushion and one of those wire things to aid threading a needle with a tiny eye, which he promptly tells me is not special ( you can buy this anywhere) and it will break. But, the needles are another story – fine packaging is the appeal too. The owner counts up how much I owe him but I don’t really mind. A Japanese lady, about my age, and he mother, in her 80’s are in the shop with me. The mum is so lovely – I hope not to sound patronising, which I also say to the daughter when I say that her mum is adorable. She has shrunk to tiny and she is as sharp as a pin herself. This is their first time in the shop although the mum lives close by. Her nifty hands feel the needles, as did mine.
The shop is a tiny explosive experience of need/ want/ desire management which requires restraint. After all, they are only needles and only a pin cushion, aren’t they?
As we three customers chat, the owner points out the marvellous bright green little Kyoto bird that has flown into the garden for the oranges. It is exquisite, so after I have paid, I move to the bench in the garden, waiting for it to return while a new stream of buyers file past, into the tiny shop. This exquisite little heavenly garden fronting the shop is a dream – granite bird water baths, large stones covered in moss like the moss gardens in the temples, small low growing lilac flowers, deep red camelia, berries and two trees. Irises too.
No bird returns so I finally haul myself off the bench and head back down the tiny alley to the crazy life outside this calm oasis.
The needle shop is Misuyabari, located on Sanjo Dori inside the shopping centre – it is closed on Thursdays. It might take you till then to find it.
the below text is a Patreon post I did in November 2020. I came across it today whilst sorting out current Patreon Posts and I shared is as a free post as a glimpse into my life when I lived in Shetland. Here it is below
On Saturday 14th November 2020, I was the guest on a really interesting 2 hour Zoom meeting with the lovely ladies at Cream City Yarn in Milwaukee, 4pm Shetland time – already twilight – 10am there. The meeting was to be about my knitting designs and my tiny croft house here in Shetland with any of their customers who would like to join.
I sat, in frame, on a small old wooden Liberty chair in front of my wood burning stove, burning peats. I showed the peats, what they looked like, how they burn on the fire and explained a little of how they are harvested. I was surrounded by my knitting (completed and half done) and my knitting design book that I add to all the time. I explained how I start to make swatches and of my colour choices and how I blend my colours. I explained the importance of colour and how you choose the right ones. I then went on to how I am inspired by place and or person and how that inspiration then turns into a research of sorts; possibly bordering on a small obsession to get details right.
I showed photographs of Susan Halcrow, who had lived in this house for 83 years and then a 360-degree panoramic view of the room with the old latch doors. I showed all of my designs and explained the inspiration and colour and how they had come in to being. They are a story in themselves. I even showed the Sea Urchin shells that Inspired my Sea Urchin hat pattern and how I had developed the colour for that design which is described in the pattern. There was a conversation between myself and the ladies at CCYarn.
I hoped to create an atmosphere of the house and an insight into colour blending and knitting design. An atmosphere of my way of life.
After 1 hour 45, we opened up for questions from Zoom participants
The first question was – ‘What do you eat?’
I mean, this was kind of a weird question to me – both personal and odd because we have a Tesco Megastore in Lerwick and a big fat Co-op and many small stores including farm shops. I felt like I was back in China – when in the mornings, they don’t greet with, ‘Good Morning’ they often say “你吃了吗(Nǐ chī le ma)?” which means – have you eaten? I always considered this to be funny but realised that the deeper route goes back to the times of famine – Have you eaten? What have you eaten? Because food was rare and is precious. So, on the zoom, I explained my lunch that day – Shepherds pie with 5 root vegetable mash and gravy made of the wine left over from when Mati visited and all the juices of the meat. And then I explained that Mati had stayed the week before and that she had brought me 2 butchered lambs from her croft in Fair Isle and they were in my freezer – the day before, we had had roast lamb and all the trimmings so I didn’t really understand her question.
But on reflection, I realise she didn’t mean – what do I eat – but how, on this isolated island do I get my food?
I’m new here. I have no stock or store or polytunnel stocked with mature soft fruits growing protected from the harsh weather. There are no trees here that shed an autumn harvest of apples, pears, plums and there are no pecan trees shedding pecans to fill my belly ( I have been reading Braiding Sweet Grass)
This island is barren and bleak in Winter, which can last from the end of October to the end of March. I have no cellar store with stacks of pickles or potatoes.
I mean – WHAT DO I EAT?
What if the boat did not come from the mainland, due to endless storms, to stock up Tesco? What if the electricity went and the freezer died? What if the boat from Aberdeen to Lerwick gets cut and the service is lessened?
In truth, I did save pasta and a few things when COVID hit us in Sheffield and you couldn’t buy pasta or rice for love nor money. That time was an eye opener that shops can be cleared in hours, in a city of 550,000 people with a food shop on every corner. So I did stock up for the first time in over 2 decades with non-perishable foods. So, a more rounded question might be – what can I eat if everything is removed from a shop?
When I arrived, I dug out the small stone roofless Byre of over 20 years of soil, weeds, fern, roses, plants I didn’t know the name of with the intention of getting it reroofed in polytunnel plastic to be a greenhouse to grow my own food. Everywhere across the islands are new expensive polytunnels. A high percentage of homes have one – over half. They are high yielding, complete with internal growth systems inside. The smallest polytunnel will set you back 3.5K and that is a kit. You have to lay the base and put it up so that it will withstand any gale (of which there are plenty) I have been quoted 5K to re roof this tiny building which I am still taking a deep breath at.
As part of the eco system of this house and my new life, I need to grow things for two reasons – one to have a supply of fresh organically grown fruit and veg and two, something to fall back on and there is another reason – I would like to offer organically grown vegetables to my visitors.
To grow here, you have to cover your plants. The sea air burns leaves, the wind rips plants back to sticks. At the moment, my city pot plants of Winter Jasmine, Star Jasmine and Orange Blossom are jostling for space in my porch. But I want to grow things – both edible and scented. It’s important.
To do this, I need to get a roof on the byre and then I will learn how to grow things in the wormless soil of Shetland.
So, I don’t think the workshop participant meant, ‘What do you eat?’ but more, where do you get your food from and how do you survive on that island?
tracey doxey 