Becoming lost in beauty is, for me, a very easy task. As I walk to and fro, or even as I am just perched in my room I am often distracted by the soft forms of the clouds, the vibrant colors present in the sky, the richness of life in the plants, refraction of light, the muted colors of the landscape… To me these things and many more, are each simple, wonderful pleasures. When I am free to stroll about as I please I often find myself walking for miles, just caught up in the changing scenery and mood of areas I pass through. I feel that I breathe easier, and last longer, my mind free to wander and imagine with the landscape poised in front of it.
Kokinshu 72
I seem bound to sleep
in this village tonight:
led astray by falling
blossoms, I've forgotten
my way home.
On my first reading of this poem, I found it to be a bit over exaggerated, but looking back, it holds for me a path that I sometimes wish to take; one in which a good friend and I discussed once, one of continuing down the other side of the mountain instead of going back the way we had come; just wandering and seeing where it would take us. Sadly, although the thought of it is nice, I do not believe the lifestyle of a wanderer would be suitable; I would like to feel as if I could live like Shunzei does in
Shinchokusenshu, Spring 1, No. 57
Seeing an
image of cherry blossoms
ahead of me
I crossed one mountain after another-
white clouds on the peaks.
But a life such as that is impractical, and might lead me to eat some wild mushrooms in hunger, only to end up dancing feverously. Still, it is pleasant to think about, especially if I had company to share in the loneliness, and the beautiful and different sights that we could encounter.
Perhaps my favorite time of day to become lost in the world around me would have to be the twilight hours. The spectacular colors create such a warm atmosphere over everything, unifying the world for a bit. And at its peak, the brightest of lights and darkest of darks come along with shadows to cloak the earth in a beautiful lightshow. The warm feelings from the sun beating down on the earth all day lead into the cool night, creating a pleasantly warm, then refreshing atmosphere. I find it feels as if there is always a sort of magic to the evening, something that makes it so perfect, which I can’t help but to get lost in.
Temple bells die out.
The fragrant blossoms remain.
A perfect evening!
-Basho
The temple bell stops.
But the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.
-Basho
I feel these poems capture that sense of magic evening has to it. Basho has paired them very nicely, as the evening, the finished ringing of the temple bell and imagery all relate very well with each other; and with me. I feel like all of the good feeling from the day collect in the twilight and spill out into the night, just as ‘the sound keeps coming out of the flowers’. It is this sort of feeling which I find lends to contented observing, having continued wonder at the little simple sights around me.
Along with the sheer color and change twilight hours bring, they also leave the earth in a state of yugure, where everything, now half hidden by dusk, has an almost eerie glow to it. In this half light, I am able to see the world from yet another perspective, allowing me to reassess the world around me once more, as it turns mysterious and fresh perspectives can be applied. Caught in the middle of light and dusk nothing is too harsh or too soft. The shadows themselves seem to take on their own life, adding mood and atmosphere wherever they are present. The imagery associated with this time is so strong that it often bolsters the mood in just the right direction, such as in Rashomon, when it is evening, but just a bit too late to see crows looking like ‘so many grains of sesame flung across the gate’ against a red sky. It is this feeling that I take delight in, loving how the world can be transformed in a matter of moments.
Perhaps this half light and the combination of dark shades and bright highlights is also part of what attracts me to rain. Rain too has a quality to it which lets it obscure things; forcing everything to become muted and misty. In this way it hides or changes the identity of all within it.
Spring rain falling--
and talking as they walk along,
a raincloak, an umbrella.
-Buson
Here, a scene itself is shrouded by the rain; it can be interpreted in many ways whom or what is talking and walking. And apart from obscuring those caught within it, the rain also reflects back images of everything it holds. Lights, colors, are come together and are blended in the rain. Dull things become shiny, and close up, wet plants and animals bear deeper, richer colors. But the rain does not just act as a mirror and enhancer for objects; it also does this for emotions. A person thinking positive thoughts may see the rain as a change or playful. Perhaps the rain is washing away the old, making headway for the new and breathing life into a new situation. Or, for those experiencing sadness, the rain often blends with their tears, commiserating with them or even enhancing them. This is perhaps the most common allusion to rain, and is grandly showcased in The Tales of Ise by the poem
Helpless to meet you,
I can only gaze on these
endless rains,
a river of tears
drenching my sleeves.
With the intensity of rain, emotions may even be allowed to progress even further. A downpour of hard, quick rain may reflect a person’s hard, quick feelings; a downpour of emotion. The lightning that results from thunderstorms could as easily build fear and tension in a person’s heart as it could fill them with energy. And the light that results from it would contrast against the dark nature of the storm, creating a hybrid world of light and shadows for an even more fleeting time than twilight. Too as the seasons change, the feelings that rain can elicit change too; cold, stoic winter rain might become a pleasing refresher in the warm summer months. The versatility of rain often allows me to look on it with whatever is in my head at the time, and its steady noise I often find restful, and easy to lose myself in.
All of this imagery influences my art greatly. The versatility found in rain is terribly compelling to me. Depending on my mood, the rhythmic sound of the rain and its distortion of the world could bring to my mind pictures of serenity, love, sadness or compassion. And too, with so much collective emotions stored about rain, my mind too then can become infused with the feelings of others to create whole new conceptions. Twilight can do this to me as well, especially after seeing an especially vibrant sunset, or the way the streetlamps begin to contrast against the darkening sky. And not only these two conditions, but any of the little things that I view around me can spark a picture. In fact, most of my inspirations for my drawings come from the little sights I see every day, or the ones I wish to be seeing every day. In fact, much of my getting lost in the little things around me is due to my art. The way shadow fall, form, elegant architecture, it all appeals to me and makes me want to learn and remember it better so that I someday can relate it back to the world. Because of my love for twilight, rain, and my positive connotations with them, they are often a common theme in my pictures. And although I do limit what I draw so that it does not become too repetitive, the only imagery that appears as much in my art would be the moon, another sight that I can always get caught up in.
Viewing the moon has become a bit rarer for me; besides having a cyclic nature it also moves throughout the sky, making it so that I may not have a clear view of it every night. However, when I do, it almost seems to me even more special. The moon is beautiful to me full or not, day or night. However, I cannot deny that it has a certain charm to it when it is full and bright, high in the dark night sky. Seeing it as the one substantial source of light in the night sky almost makes it seem more special as it can be considered the light within the darkness. It is also something unworldly, something untouchable. For these reasons I feel that it has a certain magic and mystery to it. And though I do not just picture it as a Buddhist symbol of enlightenment, I can understand why it would resonate so soundly with enlightenment due to its unique nature. So although my interpretation of the moon is not quite the same, I still enjoy many of the allusions made to it as they often bring pleasant memories of how enrapturing the moon can be. One such example would have to be
Shinkokinshu, Buddhist Poems, No. 1978
Darkness dispels,
and the moon shining clear
in my heart’ sky
now seems to near
the western hills
-Saigyo
This poem obviously has Buddhist influences, which I can appreciate, but I also enjoy the sheer imagery of the poem and the radiant moon in the sky. Together, I feel that they make a great and relatable poem, one that can showcase the beauty of the moon from multiple aspects.
And looking at my love of the simple things I find beauty in life from a Buddhist perspective, one might say that I am too attached. However, I feel more like those poets so entranced by cherry blossoms; the attachment is known and loved, a human quality. This beauty around me is something simply that I like to admire when I have time to relax and reflect, and although sometimes inspiration will drive me to divert my time to artistic activities, I find more that enjoying these small beauties is just a way of heightening my appreciation of the world and of taking time to just let my mind create its own version of the world around me, inspired by simple sights.
All and all, I think becoming lost in beauty is something pleasant, an easy reminder of how amazing our world really is. And even if this beauty may not last, it is still enjoyable, perhaps even more so. Like fading smoke a world full of cherry blossoms, or a lovely but unworldly moon princess, I find that the greatest beauties are often unobtainable, and perhaps cause us to seek beauty in many different aspects of our lives. For me it serves to clear my mind and switch its creativity on as I imagine a world which could contain many bits and pieces of my favorite things to look upon. Perhaps it is like Kazue who brightens her world by finding happiness in everything, even the odd little things in life. Overall though, I feel it is my appreciation for this world, and all of the little wonderful secrets it contains. I leave on this poem which, like the first, may be a bit over the top, but in doing so, more prominently carries the feeling that I can find myself getting so wrapped up in.
To the spring fields
I came to pick violets;
entranced by those fields,
I slept there
all night!
Yamabe no Akahito
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