Gomei discussion

I have been having an extended discussion with a commenter about gomei.  See this post and the comment thread.

For the guests, learning the gomei is of particular interest and in our discussion the commenter said,

"It sounds like the choice of a seasonal name is, at least partly, also the gift of reminding the guests of a shared cultural experience. . . . Perhaps the best gomei is not only one that is seasonally approprite [sic], but also unites the host and guests in the warm feelings of a shared remembrance."

This is a nice way of putting it and I really want to make the point that the gomei while seasonal are also allusional, that is they evoke feelings or remind people, of the seasonal moment.  The gomei themselves are a shortcut to those feelings and shared experiences.

So if you are going to use a local seasonal gomei,  make sure that everyone in the room can relate to what you are talking about and that the gomei can evoke some shared cultural or seasonal experience.  The kigo, or words that evoke the season in Japanese culture are a great reference for seasonal gomei.  You might try this link,  HAIKU KIGO Poetic Seasonal Expressions.

Another part of the discussion was about zen gomei for koicha.  I am not a Zen practioner, and I have not studied the Zen sayings, so it is difficult to come up with good koicha gomei. I tell my students to think of the tea scroll that they know.

Wa kei sei jaku - or a combination of wakei (harmony and respect)
Nichi, nichi kore ko jitsu
Ichigo, ichie
Matsu kaze
Buji kore kinin

Are some scrolls you know, so take a phrase from them.  Also: 

"It pays to pay attention. When someone else offers a Zen gomei, or your teacher suggests one, write it down with notes on meaning(s) or if it was from a Zen phrase or poem. Whenever you go to chakai and they give a name, write it down. I keep a notebook of good gomei both seasonal and Zen. If you are ambitious, you might try to research them from famous utensils . I found Haku gyoku "White jewel" from a famous (meibutsu) bunrin chaire with a drip of glaze, in an exhibition catalog."

Do you have other suggestions?   Please let's continue the discussion in the comments.

The summer cuckoo

 natsu no yo no
fusu ka to sureba
hototoguisu
naku hitokoe ni
akuru shinonome

On a summer night,
no sooner have I lain down
than the first faint light
of dawn appears -- heralded
by a cuckoo's single song

ほととぎす

The hototogisu is a kind of Japanese cuckoo (Cuculus poliocephalus). The song of the hototogisu traditionally signaled the arrival of summer. In other tales, the mournful cry of a hototogisu in a lonely wood was associated with the longing of the spirits of the dead to return to their loved ones still living. The hototogisu has long been a popular subject in Japanese literature and poetry, making appearances in both The Tale of Genji and The Pillow Book, and practically comprising an entire genre of hototogisu haiku. It is a convenient word in that it contians 5 syllables and when you add yama(mountain)  it comprises 7 syllables. 

When the poet Masaoka Shiki was 16, he went to Tokyo to study literature at the best university in the country. He was admitted in 1890, but suddenly became ill at the age of 23. He was diagnosed with lung disease. That night he wrote the following haiku:

It seems to me as if
A little cuckoo could have come flying
To aim at deutzia flowers

The hototogisu was said to spit blood when chirping - a synonym of tuberculosis. Since his diagnosis, he used his pen name, Shiki. Shiki is another name for hototogisu, meaning "little cuckoo". He founded the literary magazine Hototogisu and patron to a number of young poets, Shiki played a leading role in the revival of the traditional waka and haiku forms. He advocated a realistic, descriptive poetic style, which he regarded as the original spirit of Japanese verse, and his poetic treatises greatly influenced the Japanese literary world in its quest to define modern Japanese modes of expression.

There are no less than nine ways to write "hototogisu" using Japanese kanji, only some of which have meanings that actually reflect the bird they name:

杜鵑, "woods cuckoo"
子規, "egg measuring" (may suggest the bird's practice of laying eggs in the nest of other birds)
時鳥, "bird of time"
不如帰, "homelessness"
蜀魂, "spirit of Szechuan"
霍公鳥, "speedy cuckoo bird"
田鵑, "rice field cuckoo"
沓手鳥, "shoe hand bird"
杜宇, "woods' roof"

 There is also a flower that can be used for chabana called hototoguisu, supposedly named because the speckled petals are reminiscent of the breast of the bird.

Tea Ceremony Haiku

I am happy to say that This Moment: Tea Ceremony Haiku by Margaret Chula is back in print. It is priced at $10.00 and is available from Katsura Press as is her wonderful new book What Remains: Japanese Americans in Internment Camps

Katsura Press
P.O. Box 10584
Portland OR 97296

This Moment: Tea Ceremony Haiku by Margaret Chula
ISBN: 0963855174 Paperback
Always Filling, Always Full by Margaret Chula
ISBN: 1893996115 Paperback
Haiku especially for Tea, written by award winning haiku poet Maggie Chula. This title is now back in print, and I recommend any of her books: Grinding My Ink, Shadow Lines or Always Filling, Always Full. “Visual imagery, which predominates in most English as well as Japanese haiku, is sometimes astonishing in Chula's. She has the uncommonly keen perception and compositional skills of a painter or fine photographer, while at the same time working with the music and implications of language.” Morgan Gibson, Kyoto Journal.

What Remains: Japanese Americans in Internment Camps

My friend Margaret Chula, poet, has a new book out. What Remains: Japanese Americans in Internment Camps, Poems by Margaret Chula, Art Quilts by Cathy Erickson.

This collaboration of artists is very moving. Each art quilt has an accompanying poem written in a different voice from the camps. A young boy who had a pet rabbit, a young woman longing to dance the jitterbug, a husband/father fashioning furniture from scraps of wood.

"This is truly a beautiful, remarkable achievement -- two artists bringing history to life through visionary quilts and insightful writings." ~ Lawson Fusao Inada, Poet Laureate of Oregon

"Cathy Erickson's quilts, combined with Magaret Chula's luminous poems, evoke emotions of rage, regret, confusion, sadness, resignation and ultimately, hope." ~ Colleen Wise, Casting Shadows: Creating Visual Depth in Your Quilts.

"The dynamic interplay of Magaret Chula's poetry and Cathy Erickson's quilts is collaborative art at its best. Chula's poems weave a memorable story and voice into each visually stunning quilt -- together a powerfully beautiful interpretation of the Japanese American interment camp Experience." ~ Amy Uyematsu, 30 Miles from J-Town.

This is a subject that is close to my heart. One of my mother's best friends was interned at Minidoka, and college friend's parents met at Manzanar, and another a high school friend's father caught scarlet fever at Tule Lake.

In 1990, Portland, Oregon dedicated a park on the waterfront to the people who were rounded up and sent to the camps. It was part of an event that brought back -- some for the first time since being interned -- people who had lived and worked together in Portland. And I was on the publicity committee at that time.

I took some oral histories from returnees. What had happened to them after they had to leave their homes and businesses, during their internment and after their release. As part of my duties, I tried to place articles about the reunion and the internment in national magazines and newspapers. I remember one young assistant editor I contacted in New York. She told me that they did not publish fiction. I told her that it was the truth, and she said that the United States would never do that to U.S. citizens and I must be mistaken they must have been Japanese nationals and spies. She further told me that she had asked other people in her office in New York about the internment and nobody else had heard about it either.

You can see the park along the waterfront in Northwest Portland. The cherry trees bloom there every spring, and you can stroll along the path of stones carved with haiku about having your freedom taken away.

You can order your own copy of this wonderful book from:


Full Color, 108 pages, 8.5 x11, $24.95 + $3 S/H

Edited to add that the Address and ISBN for this book is wrong. Please order your book from:

Katsura Press
P.O. Box 10584
Portland OR 97296
ISBN: 978-0-9638551-1-4

Living forward for a year

Every year the Emperor of Japan selects a poetic theme for the next year. The theme is announced and guest poets and the public are invited to submit waka poems based on the theme. Waka or Tanka is a five line poem with 5-7-5-7-7 syllables in each line. Anyone can submit a poem and if your poem is selected, you will get an invitation to attend the gathering held for poems in January. You will have the opportunity to have an audience with the Emperor and recite your poem at the gathering. The Emperor will present his poem at the gathering as well.

The chokudai, or poetic theme for last year was fire. for 2009 is sei – meaning “to live” or “to live forward.” If you are an artist, this might mean you continue striving in the arts. If you are a craftsperson, perhaps it means to keep the old or new tradition going. If you are a teacher, you might try to impart a good education to your students. Or for a plant it may mean to remain in the ground for another year.

For this year, I will not dwell in the past. All the mistakes I made in the past or perceived slights made by others will be in the past. Everyday for this year, I will wake up to a new day and continue to live forward.

The seven grasses of autumn

Aki no ni
sakitaru hana o
yubi orite
kaki kazoureba
nana kusa no hana

hagi ga hana
obana kuzubana
nadeshiko no hana
ominaeshi
mata fujibakama
asagao no hana.

Flowers blossoming in the autumn fields
when I count them on my fingers
they number seven.

the flowers of the bush clover,
pampas grass, and arrowroot
dianthus, patrina,
also mistflower and morning glory.

In Japan, autumn is a time of mountains turning to magnificent crimson brocade, tapestries and cities glowing in wonderful autumn tints as the days grow cooler. From the earliest days, autumn has been extolled in Japanese poetry, painting, and design as well as enjoyed through foods that are available only in this season.

The seven grasses of autumn were often mentioned in the many verses of the Man’yoshu, the first collection of Japanese poetry and song. The images of autumn grasses presented in the Kokinshu, the first Imperial anthology of poetry compiled in 905, illustrates life in the Heian times in a way that could not be captured by painting. The subtle nuances of life and love at the time were illustrated with words alone, using nature and flowers to depict a clear picture of life in Hein Japan.

It is through the above poem by Yamanoue Okua, a court noble during 724-729, that the seven grasses of autumn have become well known.

from "An anthology of the seasonal feeling of chanoyu," by Michael A. Birch, Soei

Haiku and Waka poetry

'Poetry has its seed in the human heart and blossoms forth in innumerable leaves of words ... it is poetry which, with only a part of its power, moves heaven and earth, pacifies unseen gods and demons, reconciles men and women and calms the hearts of savage warriors.'

Ki no Tsurayuki, Preface to the Kokinshû, Ninth Century

Most people know the haiku form of Japanese poetry from grade school, a short poem of three 'lines' of five, seven and five syllables and describing an aspect of nature. Haiku is descended from renga a linked verse form that was descended from waka a 5 line poem with 5-7-5-7-7 syllables in each line. Some of the earliest and most famous of waka poetry were collected in the Man'yoshu, Kokin Wakashu, and the Shinsen Waka in 759, 905 and 934 respectively as Imperial anthologies.

Some people say waka is easier because you have a little more room for expression, where haiku is so brief and one must be very concise. Waka were first composed, before the advent of writing in Japan, to celebrate victories in battle and love, or for religious reasons, and this tradition of poetry for public occasions carried through to the first great age of written waka in the seventh and eighth centuries, with highly wrought nagauta 'long poems', consisting of alternating 'lines' of five and seven syllables, being composed for performance on public occasions at the imperial court.

Here is a link to a great site about waka poetry, including poems in kana, romanji, English translations as well as commentary on famous waka poets and major collections of waka poetry.

Waka was used as a means of communication between lovers during Heian (medival times), so you find a lot of love poetry -- and a lot of lost love poetry throughout the collections of waka. Waka was also frequently written on beautiful rice paper in running kana script. So for Valentine ’s Day, why not compose a waka poem and write it out on some fancy paper for your partner, lover, or spouse?

The year for fire

Since ancient time in Japan, poetry has played a major role in cultural life and continues to be widely practiced today. One direct way that poetry influences chado is the Emperor’s annual poetic theme, called chokudai.

Poetic themes have been designated for poetry gatherings since the Heian period (794-1185). At the new year, it was the custom for poems from each province to be presented to the Emperor. The poems were thought to embody the spirit of each area and add to the Emperor’s spirit. In return, the Emperor’s spirit, embodied in his poem, was given to all the country.

Today, the Imperial Poetry Reading takes place in the Tokyo Imperial Palace in early January. Several poems are selected from the thousands submitted and are read or chanted in the traditional lyrical style before the Imperial family. Those whose poems have been selected are invited as guests and the Emperor’s poem is read last.

Last year the poetic theme was moon. The chokudai for 2008 is hi or fire. Why not compose a poem on new year’s day to commemorate the year? Everyone remembers writing haiku in grade school. Try to write a short fire poem with 5-7-5 syllables per line. Or try writing a poem in the classical waka style with 5-7-5-7-7 syllables per line.

Besides poems with the theme, every year craftsmen who make tea utensils use the chokudai to commemorate the year. I wonder what the new year will bring with the theme of fire? Will it mean that people will get fired up? I have a feeling that 2008 will be a very exciting and passionate one. For me, I hope so.

A few thoughts on wabi

The aesthetic of wabi permeates and defines beauty for the Japanese culture. It is the ideal of Chanoyu yet wabi often is difficult to define and usually is reduced to simple and rustic. I would like to explore a little more about the origins of wabi, and its relationship with tea. As the Japanese aesthetic of beauty, wabi is a concept that is difficult to explain and deep in meaning.

It has its origins in the verb wabiru. The original meaning of wabiru is to be disappointed by failing in some enterprise or living a miserable and poverty stricken life. According to the Zen-cha Roku, wabi means lacking things, having things run entirely contrary to our desires, being frustrated in our wishes. It goes on to say that to feel what is lacking is deprivation, or to believe that not being provided for is poverty is NOT wabi but rather the spirit of a pauper. Wabi means to transform material insufficiency so that one discovers in it a world of spiritual freedom. Although the beauty of wabi is not simply a beauty of mere poverty, unpretentiousness or simplicity, there are times when that is what it may seem to be.

Three aspects of wabi:
• Simple, unpretentious beauty
• Imperfect, irregular beauty
• Austere, stark beauty

The simple, unpretentious beauty is certainly one of the most obvious features of the wabi aesthetic, but it should not be confused with empty simplicity, or misshapen features with imperfect or irregular beauty. Wabi is a kind of beauty which stores a nobility, richness of spirit and purity within what may appear to be a rough exterior. There is a restraint that does not call attention to itself, yet attention to the smallest detail has been lavished on what cannot be seen.

An example of imperfect, irregular beauty we can see in the many famous tea utensils that have somehow been damaged and lovingly repaired. There is a well known bamboo flower vase made by Rikyu called Onjōji and it is prized because it is cracked, or the tea bowl named Seppo made by Koetsu that is admired because is has been repaired.

The austere, stark beauty of wabi comes from the tradition of renga poetry, a form of group composition of linked verse and from the Noh theater. The poets called it a cold and withered beauty and Zeami of the Noh called it an austere and serene beauty. This is the beauty of age and experience that can only be attained through a master’s accomplishment. It is a paring away of externals, until only the essence is left.

Two poems often cited by tea masters to explain wabi:

Looking about
neither flowers
nor scarlet leaves
a bayside reed hovel
an the autumn dusk
~Fujiwara no Teika

To those who wait
only for flowers
show them a sprig
of grass under the snow
in a mountain village
~Fujiwara no Ietaka

haiku

stone Buddha
so serene so good
unlike me

The Haiku Recordings

About a year and a half ago, I assigned myself a project. I wanted to write a haiku a day for a year. Everyone knows about haiku from grade school, 3 lines with 5-7-5 syllables in each line respectively. Partly it was the discipline of writing something every day, partly it was to improve my writing. I wanted to write more expressively and more compactly.

I completed my year of writing haiku and have 365 haiku, plus a few more because I couldn't stop for a week or so. During the winter months, I was having a hard time and getting bored with writing so I revised my own rules and wrote poems that were 3-5-3 syllables. That was really tough. I also employed a writing support group to help me get the poems done. We met once a week and I had to show my week's worth of poems for critique.

A very good friend of mine, Kelley Baker (he's the Angryfilmmaker, check him out) who knows a thing or two about sound recording because he did the sound design for all of Gus Van Sant's movies, arranged to record the haiku with a few of his friends. Don Campbell and Al Lee (their book, As I live and breathe, will be out this fall, check them out, too) both are musicians and have recording equipment and know how. We met at Don's house and he set up a microphone. Kelley, his daughter Fiona, Al, Don, Don's wife Lee and I spent the evening reading and recording haiku. We cut little slips of paper with the poems on them, threw them into a hat and pulled them at random and read them.

I am still so excited about this recording session because I have never done anything like this before. Soon, Kelley and I will edit them, mix them, perhaps add sound effects or music. When we get done, I'll have a CD I can put on my site, SweetPersimmon.com.

So check out Kelley's site and check out Al and Don's site. Let them know you heard from them here.