Two and a half months to paint everyday
The more I paint, the rougher it gets, and the better I like it.
Mujina zaka, 2020
Outer moat around the castle, 2020
Brushes I use /
Ink painting, sumie, is ink, brush and paper. Paper is the most important.
I'm enjoying the washi I found in Asakusabasi. It is thick and soft. It allows great depth in the image and fine nijimi, ink flowing. Because the paper is extreme I have had to change the brushes I usually use. These work best for me. A brush is an intimate tool. Each has a story.
I’m also using the longer brushes on the wall. I've been happy to find that a brush I made from hair my sister sent is useful now. She raises sheep. She was brushing out winter hair and sent a wad in an envelope. It was stiff and full of wax-like lanolin. I had to boil it three times to make a brush. It is the one in the center. The one on the left I made from my youngest son's first haircut. The white one on the right was made by the great old craftsman down the hill.
Why paint? Why ink? /
A group of 8th graders came to my studio for a school project. One of their questions - What do I like about ink painting? I didn’t answer clearly. I had been having a personal crisis wondering where painting fits as our culture changes so radically. It was hard to put things into words, especial with painting, which is a language not easily translated into another.
With the plague raging I have been home painting every day since. It has reminded me why I like ink painting.
A good ink painting does not tell you what to think or to see. A good ink painting allows you, required you, to create meaning. It is like a zen puzzle. It is not didactic. There is no answer and none the less you create it.
This sort of abstraction has not been mainstream fashion here for five hundred years. There are no bright or pretty colors. No sound. It doesn’t move. You can’t push buttons to get points.
It is silent., still, and only has the meaning that you can bring to it.
Enoshima
Dong-po Giving Three Lessons to his Maidservants /
Tessai, Tomioka said, “Read a thousand books and walk a thousand miles.” He was an educated Edo man, born in 1836. He studied with the artists of the Bunjin-ga, literati painters. He was also a calligrapher of merit. He usually wrote on his paintings and expected people to read his writing before looking at his painting. He lived all the way thru the long Meiji Era, a time of great change. By the time he died the average Japanese could not read his writing. It had become archaic.
I was lucky to attend an exhibition of his paintings at the National Museum of Modern Art, the one near Takebasi, in 1997. the paintings were wonderful as were the English translations of the titles. My favorite made me laugh out loud was for a paintings of dozens and dozens of men talking , “Meeting of Hermits.” Where I come from hermits don’t have meetings. Different cultures.
This painting is based on one of the titles, Dong-po Giving Three Lessons to his Maidservants. I put Dong-po in Yanaka, at the top of the Fuji-mi-zaka hill. I hope he and Tessai will forgive me. These sorts of things happen when yo are locked in avoiding the virus.
1997, hard to believe it has been 23 years ago I attended that exhibition. Ill be as archaic as Tessai’s writing soon.
Social Distancing /
The best thing I did today was fix that kid on the slide from yesterday, fix his top arm. It was a stick. Now it is an arm.
It is spring break at the university in Japan, my time to paint. I practice social distancing this season every year.
The air is heavy with corona fear. It creeps into my painting.
Parks and playgrounds in Tokyo are full. The schools are closed. Mothers go nuts with the kids inside. So all the kids come to bump and touch in the park.
Are my paintings topical?
My next exhibition is October. I’m thinking we will not have forgotten corona by October, but it will be a whole lot less interesting by then.
Before
After
Signing a rooftop /
I thought I was finished climbing on the roof, but had not signed the dragon. How does one sign a roof?
A friend recommended my web address.
I went with a seal.
Jame MacNeil Whistler sighed with a dancing butterfly. It became his mark. I signed my dragon with a hunting horn. It is purported to be the Hathaway family crest. America didn’t have family crests. No royalty in America thank you very much. Perhaps that is why we wanted them. I don’t believe the Hathaway family in England was ever in a position high enough to warrant a crest, but we picked one up along the way and claimed it.
I recall seeing it in a book on my fathers shelf, “Hathaways in America.” the crest was the only illustration in a thick listing of people named Hathaway, in America, published by Hathaways for their own consumption.
