Tag: kyoto

Fujiyoshida

Tonight the moon is blue. It is a full, Super cold moon. Now, it is only 8 pm but utterly freezing outside.

Today, after very little sleep, I decided to walk to the base of Mount Fuji. The morning was cold but bright.  To get to Fuji, there is first about a 3 miles to walk from town to the  Kitaguchi Hongu Fuji Sengen Shrine, which is a huge complex of buildings – the first small shrine is said to date back to 100AD.  It is now a magnificent World Heritage Centre and I can completely understand why.  I do not know its history but as I walked up the main road out of town, that leads directly to this place, I recognised that from the 16th century to the 19th century, the path was once lined with inns, temples and shrines and places managed my Oshi (priests) on both sides.  Some of these places are still here and also recognised as historical buildings but some are also abandoned or derelict or turned into some other use but the gates at the front remain.  Each one had information about its history and on each reading, it became more obvious how special this place has been to generations.   The closer I got to Fuji, I began to sense how many people came to pilgrimage, rest and pray here before walking the mountain.

When you finally reach the gateway to Kitaguchi  Shrine, it is in a forest of Japanese pine trees which all must be 100 feet tall. The path way is lined by majestic stone lanterns covered in moss. Immediately you are plunged into shadow and coldness under the trees where the pilgrims would’ve originally come to bathe and drink water before setting off to climb out Fuji. 

The largest trees are respected with rope and paper ribbons.  Even though I do not know or fully understand what is going on here, there is no denying that it is and has always been epic – as epic as when I walked the Great Wall of China and turned around to see the wall meander for miles into the distance, as epic as the day I spent in the Forbidden City and sat and the Pavilion of Crimson snow.  These experiences are never forgotten and maybe hold some of the essence of the pilgrims within it.   This is not just a complex of spiritual buildings they are stories of lives, beliefs, and gods.

Great stones made into water troughs were covered in ice with little tiny fearn forests growing around the edges. When I looked at the rock, I thought, if stones could talk what stories they would tell of all those who have passed here since Fuji settled from erupting. 

I walked around towards the base of the walk up to Fuji. The forest made it very cold and I decided to start the walk to the base until the black bear signs became progressively increased and I thought better off it because I was on my own so I turned back.

Back home, when Takumi, came round to sort the smoke detector in the residency, he said that I could buy a tiny bell from the souvenir shop and hang it off the back of my bag to deter the black bear. I don’t think that I can trust that idea so much.

I have decided I might do a project – after Hokusai’s  100 views of Mount Fuji. I’ve shown quite a few of my Fuji, snaps on Instagram but now I’ve decided to work towards 100 modern views of Fuji. So now, hopefully, I will hopefully concentrate more on the idea but just to keep you going as Fuji shows up every day.

Here are a few views of Fuji in the last three days.

I have been knitting my second tree and star sleeve. I bought two antique kimono from a flea market at Hanazono shrine when I was in Tokyo because I was going to make a cloth body for my Tree and Star sleeves – you know, just make a little jacket body either padded or appliqued or something but I’m not so sure now

Here are the sleeves. I’m knitting them in lots of colours to give you ideas of alternative colour ways,  if you’d like to knit the Kaleidoscope  jumper or the sleeves yourself instead of in the blues and pinks that I chose.

 It’s a very special place here in Fujiyoshida and I’m glad I made my own pilgrimage to get here.

Here is the sleeve pattern on Ravelry, if you would like to knit them for your own project or add them to the Kaleidoscope Jumper instead of the tree sleeves that are in the original pattern – see image on the right above.

So much more has happened, I met my lovely friend, Yuka, who I have know from Uni and we went around the Tokyo toilets (my request) after the Film – Perfect Days. I had such a perfect day.

All ravelry patterns are here and if you would like to join me in an online colour workshop, nip to the link for workshops to find out more 🙂

Trust your unconditional imagination

Trust your uncondtional imagination – I heard this said, by a musician. How many of us spend the time, the real time, to see our imagination?

This morning, I write, quickly, without inhibition, my unconditional imagination – not dream, nor hope but mature, possibly achievalble yet far reaching thoughts.

What I imagine is living in an old small Japanese house in Kyoto, much like the quadrangle houses in the hutongs of old Suzhou in China, where I once lived.   I would find the perfect small place, – where I would live a small, simple life for one year.

I would learn to speak the language of the local people – every day, a little more – enough to get by.  I’d get up when it was time to rise – maybe 4am at the sound of the bell ringing at the temple, or 6am when Nishiki market is rising and I would have a purpose to understand the passing of the seasons of one year, in all of its seasonal and serendipitous times. 

 

I know where the Persimmon grows over the water but I have missed its blossom and leaves – only arriving last Winter to see  a few plump fruits left hanging on the bare spindly branches, for the birds, or for the water but I want a year of the Persimmon trees of Kyoto.  I have not seen the blossoms.  I’d like to view them, feel them, sense and respect the history of them.


I want to learn how to wear Kimono properly – I have been shown but I want to be able to wear it in my small house. I want to rake the tiny garden, hear the rain travel down the rain chain from the roof, admire the growth of moss upon the rocks resting in the raked gravel of the sea.    I want to regularly visit my favourite gardens – Dai Sen In, which made me almost cry at is beauty, Tofukuji, where I sat with the winter sun, a beautiful granny of a bride and watched the great oceans raked into the gravel with wonder at an act carried out in the same patterns for generations, or my first ever visited garden at Kenninji temple in Gion, where the guard was so used to me sitting on the long veranda facing South, in the winter sun knitting, that he began to smile.

I’d like to write the story of the seamstress, who works in the window of Old Gion.  Hope that she would begin to trust me that I am not with her to take from her but to respect and admire her skills of many decades.  I had begun to sit with the man who has befriended the heron on the river bank, I’d like to be a regular companion beside the changing year of the river, so that the birds would also begin to know me too. I’d take the time, hours and hours.

These are the things I already know exist but this is the tip.  I want find, keep finding, keep learning, keep growing as well as give and share, as I once did when I lived in China.

I’d like to just feel the unique wonder of the cultural differences until it was  no longer new to me because then, I would have emersed myself fully – grown the bonsai, joined the ladies chattering outside the theatre in their finest clothes, viewed the moss for so long that I could almost hear it grow, sat on the old wooden stools up to the make shift table in Nishiki market to eat sushi on a regular basis that they would know what I liked and I would know them as friends not as fine sushi and fish sellers,  where I would greet people in the local greeting and mean it, wholeheartedly.  I’d like to see the blossom move from south to north, I’d like to find an Onsen and revisit, I’d like to see Mount Fuji from the window of a passing train, in rain, in sun in mist.

I’d like to live a simple life with complex thoughts and feelings, to appreciate deeply from my heart –  Kyoto for one year and face what may happen – good and bad because these things don’t come easily, don’t come quickly – they take time.

This is my unconditional imagination.

Kyoto Baby.

On the way back to the Kyoto guest house, as the light was fading, I passed a small shop in Gion. The front was covered in a grill, at the door, was hanging a traditional Japanese door curtain (Noren).  I was only 3 days into staying in Kyoto and had no idea what the little place was, but, I could see a bent woman, working at a table under a light. A small gap in the grill showed a flash of crimson framed by the window.  I watched the woman carefully sewing, and, as is my habit, I wanted to know more.  At the window, I gestured to ask if I could enter the tiny shop.  The Noren, always bending the guests as they enter.  I, making no exception to this, bowed as I entered the tiny shop.

Inside, the space, the only thing I could see was the colour in exquisite Japanese silk Kimono taking up the entire huge table under the window and the woman standing beside it.

 

Crimson, peach, orange, ginger, cherry, turquoise, gold, purple, mint green patterned silk covered in cranes (symbolizing honour, good fortune, loyalty, and longevity) in flight shone under the sewing light.  The seamstress was hand sewing the great, padded roll of crimson at the hem of the Kimono.  She explained with few words and many gestures that it was a wedding kimono and entirely hand made by her.  She exuded the gently quality of unassuming dignity. A craft master who had probably worked at that table, under the window for decades.   I was awe struck by her skill.

I returned to the shop a number of times whilst I was in Kyoto – the last time was to show her my ideas to knit using colours that were inspired by the exquisite silk used in the kimono.  I particularly noted the thick crimson roll at the hem.   She understood what I was trying to do but must have thought that my swatch book was rather naive to her own skill, though she never showed it.    We passed small talk about colour, each using our own languages, understanding little in words but everything in the action.

Before I went to Kyoto, I hoped to live in a space between ‘Balance and Beauty’ and here I was, at that exact place.

This little pattern is the result of that experience and inspiration of colour.  I swatched for colour in the little guest house, I swatched the colours in the Sky Garden on the 11th floor of Kyoto Train Station, I swatched in many of the Zen temples whilst viewing the zen gardens. 

This little hat pattern, brings together some of the colours that I found that day.  It is called Kyoto baby.  It’s very easy to knit. The rib is an easy left crossing cable in Crimson to emulate the padded hem of the wedding kimono.  It has a simple Shetland flower motif.  The pattern has 14 colours related to the Kimono but it can be knitted simply in 6 colours.  All the information is in the pattern and it was a joy to make.   It is modelled by a beautiful little Sheffield girl, whose name I will keep a secret.

Kyoto Baby is here.

https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/kyoto-baby

there are a number of colour options in the pattern. I swatched for colour and so did my lovely test knitters. Shona Brown In Nova Scotia is has test knitted the baby beanie. – Thanks, Shona 🙂

The adult pattern will be out next week – Let me know what you think –

Kyoto baby

Kyoto Zen Gardens and knitting

Tofuku Ji

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

Ravelry pattern link here  ravely patterns are here

Happy Holidays – and good wishes for the new year

The needle shop, Kyoto.

Misuyabari

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.

Small wins / Gratitude

I had forgotten to read, almost forgotten how to read. Reading used to be my go to, my come down, my love but now, my time being taken up with work and knitting admin, I had forgotten how the written words of others, feed my own written words.

Nourishing transient words and thoughts flowing from the simple act of reading.

To neglect my relationship with the written word removes one of my senses – not sound, nor sight, nor taste, touch or smell but the 6th sense of inspiration. 

I am visiting Kyoto for 3 weeks in December / January – to nourish excitement, to be in the moment, to be baffled by everything in front of me by not recognising a thing – not the written or spoken word, nor the food or shops or culture – to have, in essence, my senses born again.  I am also going whilst I still have most of my own faculties, though I may have to tie my name and Japanese address on a string around my neck. 

To pursue a real and floating world that I never knew existed is exciting.  Who knows where it may lead. Three weeks, or thereabout, give or take forty hours of travel in the sky and waiting in my old beloved Pudong airport, is a wonderful hard-earned gift in life.   To leave a son and a daughter at Christmas would be unthinkable to most, but ‘Christmas’ is brief and we will make it up at the beginning of December – tree and all.

My trip to Kyoto slots in between a holiday break given at work (plus a few days either end) and, although a great financial cost, I will make do – cycling around the city, walking and eating cheaply.  I will wash my clothes in the wash tubs on the roof of the hostel over looking the mountain and I will live small with big thoughts.   I will stay in the attic of a hostel owned in Kyoto by a couple that I met in China in 2008, when they owed a hostel in Chengdu. They sold up and moved to Kyoto.  I never thought that I would ever see them again but I return, to people, to places.  They are beautiful people and Maki has been in touch regarding the booking. I feel quietly excited although a little nervous. 

I am knitting Maki a gift, which I will wrap beautifully and hand over to her with two hands and a faint bow as a sign of respect – something I learned in China and became second nature. Respect for a hard working woman, for communication, and mutual respect.

So much still to organise,  the thoughts are on a little back burner, slowly simmering.

For now, on this rainy day in Sheffield, I am having a delicious hour with the three books that I bought in the summer from a real book shop. That day,  I returned to work and said to my colleague, ‘ I think I’ll nip to Japan.  After all, I bought the books so now I have to go. ‘

I’m thinking of taking a small business card to reflect my knitting, this is a mock up, it is not the finished image but an idea – quite ridiculous and not at all corporate – What do you think?

Stash buster neck warmer is here