Be*mused

Jumpstart

Do you ever get into a creative rut?  Find yourself gravitating toward the same kinds of patterns and using the same color combinations?  I certainly have enough in-progress projects to work on but I was feeling restless this weekend.  My sewing room is finally *pretty much* arranged the way I want it and was waiting for a workout. 

   

I did something I may never have done before.  I pulled out a favorite quilting book, found an interesting design and followed the color directions.  It was fun to remove the decision making for a change and just pull suggested fabrics from the shelf to see what would happen.  

The blocks are so simple that it didn't take much time at all to whip out 25.  While using colors I wouldn't have chosen, I had a lot of ideas for new ways to use some of these combinations in other projects.  I'd highly recommend a little stash diving and a recipe to shake you out of your doldrums!

   

*** Pattern:  Moody Blues from Kaffe Fassett's Passionate Patchwork.  The blocks are not assembled into a top so the jewel-colored corners would be smaller when sewn together.

Flea market!

 
Oedo Kotto Ichi Antique Fair, Tokyo

My first trip to Japan was in 1994.  I had a quilt in an exhibit in Nagoya and was invited, with other American quilters, to come for the show and stay as a guest with Japanese quilters in the area.  I've never mentioned that here, probably because the experience was so life-changing (for two of us, especially...myself and my Japanese friend) that I couldn't imagine squeezing it into a post or two.  Maybe one of these days.  Anyhow, three of us accepted the invitation and our hosts filled our stay with wonderful activities that mightbe of interest to quiltmakers.  One of my favorites was visiting flea markets in Nagoya and Kyoto.

   

On subsequent trips, I could never seem to coordinate schedules to hit another one, so when I casually googled *Tokyo flea market* a few days before I left for Japan, I was excited to find this pop up.  The question was, had my memory exaggerated the wonderfulness of my first flea market visits?  We were willing to take the gamble, so Molly & I headed to the site, just blocks from Ginza, early on a damp, chilly Sunday morning. 

My minimal hope for the day was to find some indigo fabrics at a lower price than was available from the vendors at the quilt show.  I wanted a few more solid blues to finish this piece and found some early, reasonably priced, at the booth above.

 

The rest of the morning would now be gravy.  Would the market be a boom or a bust?  *KABOOM!*  It was great!!

 

Looking at this photo, I can't believe I left without at least one of these old chalkware pieces.

 

This set of vintage, handmade dollhouse furniture was the most charming thing I have seen in a long time.  The little gate with mailbox, the elephant slide, the ducky rocker.  Selling as a set for about $400.  (As with all of my photos, you can click the photo to enlarge and see some of the details.)
***Molly has informed me that I was wrong about the price...it was $4,000.  It's probably still there if you're interested.

 

Hyperventilating commenced when I spied these silk sticks.

   
I was very restrained....considering.

There were all kinds of booths...ceramics, paper ephemera, coins and tools and general mish-mash that you'd find at flea markets everywhere.  And as at the markets I visited on my first trip, there were a good number of kimono dealers.   

This kimono was a knockout but way out of my price range at around $450.  I did, however, manage to find a few more fun, flea-market-y items. 

 

How could I resist when the prices were low and I had two enablers egging me on?  (Not to mention carrying my bags, for unencumbered browsing!)

  
   
Three vintage 1950s children's envelopes of some kind...explaining the upside-down illustration on the flaps.  These were sold in a bad frame, which I discarded in Japan.

A sheet of vintage children's cards.  There's a name for these, which escapes me at the moment.
***Again, Molly to the rescue.  They're called karuta.

 

Mid-century paperdolls.  Destined for framing.

 

Little Japanese figure...2".  Wearing a red polka dot kimono.  Enough said. 

 

And finally, two boxes of crayons to go with my small collection of vintage art supplies.  (I was an art teacher in another life.) 

After spending the day outside in the raw weather, we enjoyed a short warmup break in one of the many, many cafes in the area.  And then we jumped on a train for Kichijoji and some trolling at Yuzawaya and Cotton Field. 

*    *    *    *    *

If you've been wondering why I haven't yet resumed my 'what I'm currently working on' posts, it's not jet lag, secrecy or general *ennui*.  It's more like blindness.  Late last fall, I noticed a difficulty in determining how many threads I was picking up while hand stitching.  I made a mental note to find an eye doctor after the holidays, but then left for Japan, where at Molly's knitting group, I found myself dropping stitches on a new mitten without noticing.  Ackk!  I'd totally lost my focus in that *handwork area*.  The good news is that I've gotten a new prescription, ordered some new glasses and should be back up to speed within a week or so.  Thank goodness.  So many projects waiting!! 

Happy Valentine's Day!

Did you send your valentines?

   
Tokyo mailbox  

What?  No love interest?  Head to Kobe for this *ivent*!

 

Who knows?  *You may catch the interesting experiment*!

"what's TENUGUI?"

In early January when we were fine-tuning my trip plans, I emailed a Tokyo friend to ask if she could recommend any little neighborhoods or shops somewhat off the beaten track that might be of interest to Molly and me during our four days in the city.  She emailed right back with more questions and a brief description of a tenugui shop in Ningyo-cho that she thought we might enjoy.  Since that was exactly the kind of suggestion I was hoping for, I immediately Googled *tenugui* and *Ningyo-cho* and emailed to thank her for the great idea.

Armed with a map and a printout from my Googling, we set out one morning for Ningyo-cho, in search of Takatora.  It was easy to find and upon ringing the bell to gain entry, we were greeted by its artisan-owner, Mr. Takahashi.  To call him a *character* would be an understatement.  From our entry, he kept up an animated dialogue with poor Molly (almost a monologue, as she struggled to keep up with his detailed explanations) as he showed us all of his work, explaining in detail the many plays-on-words incorporated into many of his designs.  

   

The tenugui at Takatora were all of Mr. Takahashi's design, and mostly quite bold.  The tiny shop made picture taking near impossible, and I wondered at Jennifer's recommendation that her visiting friends had had a lot of fun there, despite our total enjoyment of the proprietor.  Finally, we each chose one to bring home and while they were being wrapped up, I had Molly ask him if there were other artisan shops in the neighborhood.  Since Ningyo-cho means *dolltown*, my hopes were high but dashed on that count.  He did mention another tenugui shop in the area, however, and drew out an elaborate map for us to follow.  

  

It couldn't have been a more beautiful day!  We stopped at a street stand on our way and bought some delicious, dried persimmons.  (We got quite a few extra thrown into the bag because the owner was *honored* that I wanted to take pictures of his stand.) 

Several more blocks and a little back-tracking later, we arrived at Chidori-ya, clearly the shop that Jennifer had been referring to.  How lucky that we stumbled on to it despite my jumping the gun and thinking I had found her recommendation on Google! 

 

Oh. my.       

So what's a tenugui?  I wrote about them in a past post, but I'll quote a little informational flyer ("what's TENUGUI?") that the shop put into my bag.

TENUGUI is a very familiar and usefull tool for the Japanese since the EDO period (1630~) as a thin Japanese towel made of cotton. We could just say "TENUGUI is a Japanese traditional towel", but not only was it used as a wiping tool such as a towel or a handkerchief, it was also used as a dishcloth, headband, souvenir and a tapestry for decorating your rooms!   

   

Its water absorptivity is excellent! also drys very fast so it's hygenic too (the edges of the cloth wasn't done any special care on purpose and it makes TENUGUI drys much faster.) It's typically about 35*90cm in size so you can fold it thinly and not be bulkey at all.

 
Decisions, decisions....  

In addition as for the TENUGUI, the clothe itself gradually softens by embezzing it so please enjoy that changing.

 
Ring them up! 

There is a charm of a Japanese towel to numerous of the handle.  There are a meaning and a play to each handle, and the design that was prevalent from what was used as a handle of the kimono which a Kabuki actor wore other than the handle which made nature and a plant, an animal a motif in the Edo era stays in the present age and feels a change of Japanese culture to open in 35*90cm and limited cloth, and will not it be charm that I can take it in hand?

Year of the Ox (from Takatora)

 

During my travels, I picked up tenugui in Yokkaichi and Kobe as well as Tokyo.  You can find them everywhere, though the tourist types are often of a looser weave.  I was particularly on the hunt for some off-beat small prints in a tight-ish weave, like those above, to use in quilts.

 

Several that I purchased won't be cut up for piecing.  I'll finish the ends and hang them for display or use them as table runners.  These are three of my favorites.

 

And look...I was able to photograph them on my new design wall!  I hadn't yet gotten my sewing room together when the bad weather hit in the fall so we took advantage of Sunday's sunny, 60 degree weather to head to Home Depot for the insulation board and haul it home on the car roof.  I finished covering it yesterday.  You know what this means...?  Sewing can't be far behind!

*If you are planning a visit to Tokyo, I'd highly recommend visiting each of these shops!

Brief glimpses

   

I can't recall what I imagined of modern Japan before my first trip there 13 years ago, but I do remember being delighted to occasionally glimpse kimono clad women, often older and usually hurrying through crowded city train stations.  As we traveled to Kobe one morning last month, I spotted this young woman on the platform in Tsuruhashi (*crane bridge*...such lyrical names!).  The furry wrap should have been a giveaway, but I snapped a quick shot and we jumped on our train without another thought.

 

It wasn't until we got to Kobe station, with young people flooding in from all directions, that we realized it was Seijin shiki, Coming of Age Day...a national holiday, celebrated on the second Monday of January.  On that day, all who have turned 20 (the legal age in Japan) in the previous year are invited to attend a gathering somewhere in their city to hear official speeches welcoming them to adulthood.  Private parties usually follow.

In smaller towns, the gathering might be at city hall but in big cities, it's more likely to be at a larger venue.  The Kobe event was being held at an arena where Coldplay was scheduled to perform the following week.

 

They were everywhere...hundreds of these *new adults*, checking their cellphones, adjusting makeup, shrieking at a friend's arrival.

 

Many of the outfits were quite elaborate, as were the hairdos.  The girls are wearing furisode, the kimono style for unmarried women which is identified by bright colors and its signature sleeves that drape almost to the floor.  The outfits for the day are usually rented, at high cost.

 
Love this orange obi! 

Young men also participate, though in their dark suits they are definitely overshadowed, at least visually, by the girls in their bunny fur and over-the-top kimono/obi combinations.  A quilter friend who once lived in Japan suggested to me that Japanese quiltmakers are so bold in their designs because they have a tradition of mixing pattern, color and texture in their traditional dress. 

Lining up at the ticket counter.

From the ridiculous(-ly flamboyant) to the sublime, exactly a week later, Molly and I were in Tokyo station.  As she stepped to a ticket wall to adjust a fare, I glanced up and had just a moment to pull out my camera...

    

...as these maiko, apprentice geisha, strode by with their chaperone.  (I'm sure must be an official designation for her.)  Their outfits were breathtaking, the color combinations striking.  A real treat and the reason why I try to keep my camera within quick reach on these trips...though always careful to mind my manners.

 

When I was at the quilt festival, I purchased a packet of small swatches of old kimono silks from a dealer of Japanese antique fabric.  The prices have gotten outrageous since my first visit in the mid-90s, but I wanted to add some different colors to the selection I had at home.  While staying with a Japanese friend of my age at the end of our trip, she was curious about the fabrics I had purchased during my travels.  I showed her some of the contemporary yardage, next, some tenugui, but when I pulled out this packet, she broke into a broad smile.  Pulling the fabric to her face, she inhaled and said, "Ahhh...it smells like my childhood!"  Such a nice memory.

Hatsu Gama

 

Early on a cold Sunday morning, as the sun was rising over the mountains and the frost still clung to the fields, Molly and I drove into the countryside.  She's been taking lessons in Japanese tea ceremony since she arrived in Japan and the women in the class have been most welcoming each time I've visited.  This time, instead of dropping in on a class, my trip coincided with one of the big annual events, hatsu gama, first tea ceremony of the year.

 

The room is all ready.

Everyone's arrived.

 

Some come in full regalia while others come carrying furoshikis containing their kimonos.  The back room bustles as we dress...

...or are dressed!

 

I had a hard time taking my eyes off this ensemble, a lovely neutral plaid kimono with an Indian style embroidered obi.  The narrow tie around the front was woven in an arrow pattern, one side in maroon...the perfect accent!

   

Another lovely obi.

 

Lots of fussing ensues, tending details and setting up the sign-in.

 

Each takes her turn,

 

and then slips on woven sandals to go out into the garden to purify hands from a lovely water spout.  Which no doubt has a special name.  Everything in tea ceremony has a special name or designation.  

  

Then we dash back (It's winter! It's freezing out!) through the garden and enter the tea ceremony room from outside.  We enter in a special way, on knees, bowing, doing a little hop-scoot.  I'm sure you could study the art of Japanese tea ceremony for 20 years and not yet get to its finer points. This group, however, is relaxed and fun.  Always fun.

 

The ladies are mostly wearing the proper hatsu gama kimono style of muted, solid colors.  Molly's sensei (teacher), however, has chosen our brightly colored kimonos from her large collection.  They are from her younger days and several times she tells us how happy she is to see us wear them as they remind her of events to which she wore them...a daughter's graduation, among them. 

 

We sit around the perimeter of the room, each receiving her individual bowl of tea in turn.  With so many participants, tea ceremony was rather lengthy this time.  Most of the Japanese women can sit seiza for an eternity (hours plus).  I can do it for about 10 minutes.  10 minutes on a good day.

 

Thank goodness for my little cheater mushroom stool.  Even with this aid, my feet still fall asleep and my legs cramp periodically.  But it's some relief.

 

It was my fourth visit to the tea ceremony group and probably my last.  A little poignant, especially as Molly made my tea for the last time, but I had little time to dwell on that as I concentrated on shifting my feet to avoid making a scene. 

 

All in all, a lovely day and lots of good memories!