I first learned of the Japanese concept of Wabi Sabi many years ago. It is a tool for contemplation, or a philosophy of life, that finds beauty in things that are impermanent, imperfect, and incomplete. In other words, it’s the notion that patina; wear and tear; chips, cracks, and fissures;  assymetry; flaws; and defects actually make things more interesting.

I immediately loved this concept of Wabi Sabi, and I felt almost relieved to read about it. It was like discovering that there was a word for the way I’d always thought about life.

You see, a Wabi Sabi house is not a sleek loft with a-line furniture and stainless steel appliances. It’s clean, but it’s comfortable, and it might be full of lopsided ceramics, handmade art, knitted blankets, quilts, and weathered antiques, a little bit like my house.

And a Wabi-Sabi person is not perfectly made up with gleaming white teeth, manicured nails, and tailored clothes. She is content with who she is, and she enjoys a simple life stripped of what is unnecessary. And that’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.

It’s useful for me to remember my fondness for the concept of Wabi Sabi on days like today when I finally woke up (for the tenth time in a few hours) for good at six a.m. with my fussy seventeen-month old and that phrase “sleeping through the night” that parenting experts seem to like to bandy about made me want to laugh maniacally.

Or, when I glance around my home office, which I always envisioned would be a tidy, peaceful sanctuary of sorts, and see the fifty or so books that my son dutifully removed from the shelves and spread across the floor alongside his trucks, Legos, and blocks.

Yes, this life, with work and home-life woven together, feels a little cobbled together sometimes, a little taped up at the seams, and I’m quite sure there are some cracks lurking here and there.

But that’s exactly the way I always wanted it to be.

This post is for Steady Mom’s 30 Minute Blog Challenge.

There is a sick feeling in my metaphysical soul when I am faced with or realize my own contradictions. I want so badly for things to be nicely spliced into their right and wrong. Thursday’s class was an interesting one for that matter. Jaime described certainty as “seductive.” Damn straight. There seems to be two kinds of certain. The first might be described as the “real” certain… the certain certain. [What is.] And the second is the perception of the certain. [What I persuade myself there is.] Maybe that will matter later in my free write… maybe not.

The debate today at the middle school reminded me of how frustrating the confusion is between the certain and the uncertain. I stood on the side that most feminists would agree with – words and images are powerful and hip hop has a load of harmful ones especially to women. And yet, there was something that hip hop had done for the kids in that auditorium to so quickly step up to defend it from the evil hands of Shreshth and me. I think that good things do come from hip hop though those instances may be rarities. There is an idea that bad speech brings about more speech which will induce better speech, right? Much of the good speech in rap happens because the speaker is trying to cut through all of the bad speech and reveal something better, a jewel.

And this was my uncertainty. I walked back from campus today listening to Maroon 5 and then Thugz Mansion played on my ipod. That song’s not all that bad. But in general, I gotta make some sort of a judgment here! If I believe that words are powerful (this will get my job) then I have to take them seriously. So I should be certain about how to treat bad language and demeaning words.

I understand that having uncertainties is not only human but also a good thing! How could I be receptive to the article this week about food being so much more than the tasty (or not so tasty) morsels we devour for nutrients? And in a world of complete certainty there is no wabi sabi (the sensation of biting into the peach – the balance of sweet/sour, dry/moist, life/death). This would be a shame. Just look at all of the fantastic elements in art that contrast  what we would thing certainly are unalike and should be categorized differently!

And still, I feel it has to end somewhere. Some universal truths must exist. I like Emmanuel Levinas. Jaime described his pre-ontological theory as “I owe you everything. I am responsible to respond to you always.” And said that this was his absolute. But I get the critic of this theory. It is the same sort of critique as those lobbied against Care Ethics. To whom can I provide care for? To whom do I owe if there are two people in the room? And if you say you owe first and foremost to the one you know (perhaps your mother and not the stranger) then your mother is unjustly getting care and help because of lottery of acquaintance. If I am in the room and I prefer my sister to her boyfriend – it matters not and I owe them the same… Everything.

But where is the protection of self? What do I owe myself? How can I have a healthy family if I am constantly wandering the world conquering others’ foes and giving them aid? What am I without a personal life of constant people who affirm and challenge me? I will surly lose them if I run amuck owing everyone else. And… yes. I take the critique I endured in class… life may not be the ultimate value. Other societies’ ideas about the best life being a short one shake my confidence in my fallback truism. I’ll seek it out though. Perhaps my certainty will be that I am always searching for one.

Aesthetic: –adjective

Also, as a noun, a branch of philosophy centered around art and the senses and “new ways of seeing and perceiving the world.” (wikipedia)

I grew up in an abnormal household, with abnormal said in the best sense possible. I grew up surrounded by shelves and shelves of books lining the walls and books stacked on various and plentiful surfaces around the house; walls lined with artwork from numerous artists, most which my parents knew one way or the other; dinners centered on the senses with powerfully tasty, odd ingredients and table conversation which included philosophy, politics and general intellectualism; two rebelliously natured intellectuals for parents who made sure I was always thinking consciously and awarely about everything…

as a sidenote to illustrate: I used to spend the weekend with my cousin Laura in Ocala, Florida, and for a while this included going to a Hispanic Baptist church in the middle, literally, of nowhere and nothing. I would stand there, thoroughly my parents’ kid, watching everyone like an anthropologist in the middle of a pygmy tribe’s ritual celebration, facinated. I would come home after those weekends, find my mom, and ask her why the Ouiji Board and Dungeons and Dragons were sending my to hell, and if that meant that these “God” and “Satan” characters had nothing better to do. I was 7, and a bit precocious, if you couldn’t tell. My mom would proceed to sit me down and tell me all about the concepts of “institutions,” “politics” and “agendas” and how that all comes together in religion. Very informative. I haven’t been able to even look at spirituality without a hefty dose of salt since.

This is the household my brother and I grew up in. And most of my extended family’s households were pretty similar, where we would visit. My aunt Ali, who’s like a sister and second mom, has the same aesthetic as her sister. This is what I grew up knowing as lifestyle. Simple joys including bright yellow peppers and fresh basil, the texture of a rough bound old book, a really good cup of red wine, and walls lined with art.

So, throughout my life, the older I get and therefor the more aware I get, the more I think about aesthetic. There is a Japanese aesthetic concept called Wabi Sabi, which is centered around the concept of transience and an aesthetic which is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. The concept goes back to Buddhist concepts, and the words themselves, individually, can mean many things. In this concept, however, and in modern times, Wabi means, basically, rustic simplicity, and Sabi means beauty. There are tons of websites about this concept, and I’ll try to include some of them at the end of the blog.

This concept might explain the abstract yet powerful sense of appreciation one may feel at, say, a sturdy, weathered oak wood chair over the slick, plastic modern chair, or at a beaten up leather steamer trunk. I think that the broad feeling is one of a sort of two sides of a coin: appreciating things that are sturdy enough to last (considering we get that so seldom in this day and age of the obsolete), and experiencing a sort of sad, longing appreciation of impermanence. I’m just philosophizing at this point, but my point, if I have one, is that life becomes beautiful when paid attention to. It takes effort, but it’s worth it. Paying attention and you discover that Autumn is one of the most beautiful seasons of the year, because it is the season centered around transition, and death and rebirth, and there’s something beautiful about that. Paying attention and you discover the beauty in falling autumn leaves, and paying even more attention you ask yourself why it is you find that beautiful. Paying attention you surround yourself with interesting things, like strange foods, interesting, odd concept books, and works of art acquired through happenstance like your artist friend or the flea market. Paying attention, and not accepting life as necessarily bland and tasteless and drudgery, you discover that you don’t need to have a lot of money to have a life filled with richness. A bottle of wine, a broken down front porch, and good conversation, on an Autumn night with its chill and its falling leaves and its death and rebirth. As I grew up knowing, life is poetry.

stillinthestream.com

nobleharbor.com/tea/chado/WhatIsWabi-Sabi.htm

c2.com/cgi/wiki$?WabiSabi

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wabi-sabi

Finally! (after 19 posts…)

I’ve found my main point of my project. Remember I’ve been talking about doing something about typography under the idea of ‘imperfection’ and I’ve been thinking really hard until my head is nearly exploded about what it is I want to focus on/ base on.

So I end up reading about the Japanese world view ‘Wabi-Sabi’. It is described as a beauty of ‘imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete’ (according to Leonard Koren, from his book Wabi-Sabi: for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers). Wabi-Sabi is based on a concept of understandings and desires of imperfection in nature by Japanese.

The word ‘Wabi’ means the worship of imperfection, out of trend, outcast. To avoid being socialized, being alone, and having simple life closes to nature.

The word ‘Sabi’ means lonesomeness, loneliness, emptiness, nothingness, still, and calm.

In the world that everyone turns to technology and conveniences. We all seem like everything around us is heading toward perfection. Advertisement presents excessively information and human wants to win nature with all those technologies. Which this affects how people live because they are influenced.

But Wabi-Sabi focuses on leaning toward naturalistic. To understand the imperfect nature instead of winning it. And it also relates to Buddhism in term of ‘nothing is permanent’. Wabi-Sabi is opposed to modern thoughts. Therefore it is the way of thinking that helps to slow down the way people live nowadays, make them stop and think about their own aesthetics.

So, I want to apply this idea on typography through digital medium. I would like to see if types can speak louder (in term of communication) and explore how types could represent this simple aesthetic to audiences through their imperfect forms. How audiences perceive the message and emotive responses on visual presentation (typographic installation). I choose not to use voices because each person perceives things differently and I want to leave time and space for the audiences to think and re-think about the idea. I know typography is listed as a beauty form of type but this project is not gonna be styles of types that are presented, but the message behind deconstructed/imperfect types deliver the aesthetic of Wabi-Sabi.

It’s a gloomy, rainy day in Windsor town today.

But even gloomy days can provide a beautiful landscape, such as this colourful viburnum with it’s burgundy-rust leaves and bright red berries.

In fact, rainy days can be positively golden.  This spirea hedge provides a ribbon of gold along one side of the property.

On the opposite side of the lot, poplars stand naked in a sea of golden ferns.

Despite recent high winds, this burning bush manages to hang on to some of it’s wonderful colour.

This maple still provides splashes of bright colour along the edge of the driveway and a golden carpet beneath its scraggly branches.

And what could be prettier than these tiny crabapples, bejeweled with raindrops with a tangerine hedge of wild roses as a backdrop.

There’s a bit of wabi-sabi from the balcony today — it’s a gloomy, but golden day.

Leslie White: October Night (2009)

Full moon;

my ramshackle hut

is what it is.

Here Issa reveals the simplicity of his small hut with the simplicity of a haiku.  All things are intricately bound together and mutually dependent, whether we recognise this or not.  No thing is independent of anything else.  In haiku, this is precisely what is recognised. This is why the juxtaposition of images is so crucial to this peculiar poetic form.  Issa may be poor, but he doesn’t forget the beautiful full moon!

The best and most important things in life do not really belong to us or to anyone.  We simply participate in the unfolding of moments in time and we bear witness to them.  Haiku is one way of becoming aware of this unfolding.  As a way of life and perception, haiku is the cultivation of this awareness.  Haiku, as a poetic form, is a kind of thanksgiving to simply being, an recognition and acknowledgment of the cosmos in its myriad beauties and mysteries.

A poor box;

four or five pennies,

evening rain.

~ ~ ~

Robert Hass (editor), The Essential Haiku: Versions of Bashō, Buson and Issa, New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., 1994, pg. 166, 184.

This house is a true reflection of the lifestyle of its owners. When they described what the wanted they gave me two words- WABI SABI. While  most houses that I design have a common element of Open Plan, and the creation of views through picturesque frames of doors and windows, each house is adapted to the individuals that occupy it. It is theirs in every sense.

This house sits on the beach. It has large doors and windows on the sea side to frame the crystal clear water and the sugar white sand that stretches before it. The owners have a style that is both elegant and luxurious, but simple. Wabi Sabi essentially.  The house is one with nature with its natural wood doors and windows. The use of louvered windows creates a filter for the light giving a warmth to the house while the large glass windows acts to extend the open spaces outward and bringing the outdoors in. The deck is of natural wood that when weathers will become a natural grey, like the driftwood on the shore.

I would just like to bring a bit of attention to this blog I stumbled on in the wee hours of the morning, called Still in the Stream. The blog’s focus is mainly on wabi sabi and writing, with a good bit on haiku.  What I find most interesting about the blog is that it places an emphasis on perceiving wabi sabi in daily life, not merely as an interesting writing technique.

This web site celebrates the axiom that “nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished.” This is the wabi sabi touchstone, a principle that is itself transient. Many traditions have touched this principle and found it helpful. We who celebrate it do so because in the clear realization of this principle there is a kind of joy, a certain contentment that grows as we accept genuine unvarnished existence. It brings a welcome clarity and grace. Around this clarity swirl related topics and experiences. The articles and photos’s here participate in that clarity and attempt to communicate the pleasure and rewards of living lightly the life we are given and finding wonder in this tarnished world. (from the introductory article, “Still in the Stream”)

In other words, the emphasis seems to be more along the line of actually wabizumai, the “life of wabi” (as expounded upon and lived by Bashō).  There’s plenty of thought-provoking articles on living and writing and a good deal of haiku to read, as well as some lovely photography.  I encourage you to take a look and browse about.

Wabi Sabi is a Japanese aesthetic ideal that is concerned with honoring simple, unadorned, natural objects and events in life, those things that are beautiful and beloved because of their imperfection and simplicity, not in spite of them. Mimi has a lovely storybook called Wabi Sabi, written by Mark Reibstein and illustrated by Ed Young, about a cat by that name who seeks to learn the meaning of its namesake. Everyone she asks begins by saying, “That’s hard to explain …”

Wabi Sabi is hard to explain, but I think that a good way of understanding it might be to consider the apple.

Surely, the apple is one of nature’s most exquisite achievements, yet humans have done their damnedest to ruin it. As proof, I offer the Red Delicious apple. How perfect it is~

But isn’t it a little odd looking, for all its genetically-engineered perfection?

I cannot love it.

I can, however, love this misshapen Arkansas Black. Lopsided, blemished, and bruised — this is a beautiful apple.

And, unlike the Red Delicious, this one tastes good. Like an apple, if you can imagine.

Mimi and I spent the morning marvelling at the imperfect beauty of pumpkins, quinces, satsumas, persimmons, and apples at the Market at Blooming Colors, a new fruit and vegetable stand in Auburn that carries mostly  locally grown food. The apples, for instance, come from a farm in North Georgia and they’re pesticide free. The market is a valuable addition to the area.

The weather is cool (finally) and the market was the perfect place to spend a sunny Fall morning. We indulged ourselves in utterly simple ways: picking out pumpkins and snacking on apples and roasted peanuts. We brought home with us five flawed pumpkins and two bags full of misshapen apples: our beautiful treasures.

Lunch, eaten amid the new pumpkins on our very simple front porch, consisted of apples and cheddar cheese. What else did we need? The sky was blue, the air was cool, and we were happy.

Simply Beautiful

I just heard about this Japanese philosophy, Wabi-Sabi, and as I was doing some research about it, I found out that it’s being adaspted to the contemporary design objects. Before talking about the new use of this old philosophy I want to post a simple wikipedia description of what it is and how it transformed.
The source is according to Leonard Koren in his book Wabi-Sabi: for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers.
According to Koren, wabi-sabi is the most conspicuous and characteristic feature of what we think of as traditional Japanese beauty and it “occupies roughly the same position in the Japanese pantheon of aesthetic values as do the Greek ideals of beauty and perfection in the West.” Andrew Juniper claims, “if an object or expression can bring about, within us, a sense of serene melancholy and a spiritual longing, then that object could be said to be wabi-sabi.” Richard R. Powell summarizes by saying “It (wabi-sabi) nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.”
The words wabi and sabi do not translate easily. Wabi originally referred to the loneliness of living in nature, remote from society; sabi meant “chill”, “lean” or “withered”. Around the 14th century these meanings began to change, taking on more positive connotations. Wabi now connotes rustic simplicity, freshness or quietness, and can be applied to both natural and human-made objects, or understated elegance. It can also refer to quirks and anomalies arising from the process of construction, which add uniqueness and elegance to the object. Sabi is beauty or serenity that comes with age, when the life of the object and its impermanence are evidenced in its patina and wear, or in any visible repairs.
From an engineering or design point of view, “wabi” may be interpreted as the imperfect quality of any object, due to inevitable limitations in design and construction/manufacture especially with respect to unpredictable or changing usage conditions; then “sabi” could be interpreted as the aspect of imperfect reliability, or limited mortality of any object, hence the etymological connection with the Japanese word sabi, to rust.
A good example of this embodiment may be seen in certain styles of Japanese pottery. In Japanese tea ceremony, the pottery items used are often rustic and simple-looking, e.g. Hagi ware, with shapes that are not quite symmetrical, and colors or textures that appear to emphasize an unrefined or simple style. In reality, these items can be quite expensive and in fact, it is up to the knowledge and observational ability of the participant to notice and discern the hidden signs of a truly excellent design or glaze (akin to the appearance of a diamond in the rough). This may be interpreted as a kind of wabi-sabi aesthetic, further confirmed by the way the colour of glazed items is known to change over time as hot water is repeatedly poured into them (sabi) and the fact that tea bowls are often deliberately chipped or nicked at the bottom (wabi), which serves as a kind of signature of the Hagi-yaki style.
Wabi and sabi both suggest sentiments of desolation and solitude. In the Mahayana Buddhist view of the universe, these may be viewed as positive characteristics, representing liberation from a material world and transcendence to a simpler life. Mahayana philosophy itself, however, warns that genuine understanding cannot be achieved through words or language, so accepting wabi-sabi on nonverbal terms may be the most appropriate approach. Simon Brown notes that wabi sabi describes a means where students can learn to live life through the sense and better engage in life as it happens rather than caught up in unnecessary thoughts. In this sense wabi sabi is the material representation of Zen Buddhism. The idea being that being surrounded by natural, changing, unique objects helps us connect to our real world and escape potentially stressful distractions.
In one sense wabi sabi is a training where the student of wabi sabi learns to find the most simple objects interesting, fascinating and beautiful. Fading autumn leaves would be an example. Wabi sabi can change our perception of our world to the extent that a chip or crack in a vase makes it more interesting and give the object greater meditative value. Similarly materials that age such as bare wood, paper and fabric become more interesting as they exhibit changes that can be observed over time.
The wabi and sabi concepts are religious in origin, but actual usage of the words in Japanese is often quite casual. The syncretic nature of Japanese belief systems should be noted.

Wabi-sabi in Japanese arts

Many Japanese arts over the past thousand years have been influenced by Zen and Mahayana philosophy, particularly acceptance and contemplation of the imperfection, constant flux, and impermanence of all things. Such arts can exemplify a wabi-sabi aesthetic. Here is an incomplete list:
honkyoku (traditional shakuhachi music of wandering Zen monks)
ikebana (flower arrangement)
Japanese gardens, Zen gardens, and bonsai (tray gardens)
Japanese poetry, particularly haiku
Japanese pottery, notably Hagi ware
Japanese tea ceremony
Bonsai the Japanese art of miniature trees

Western use

Former Stuckist artist and remodernist filmmaker Jesse Richards employs it in nearly all of his work, along with mono no aware.
During the 1990s the concept was borrowed by computer software developers and employed in Agile programming and Wiki to describe acceptance of the state of ongoing imperfection that is the product of these methods.
On 16 March 2009, Marcel Theroux presented In Search of Wabi-sabi on BBC Four as part of the channel’s “Hidden Japan” season of programming. Marcel travelled throughout Japan trying to understand the aesthetic tastes of Japan and its people.
This year at Milan’s Furniture Fair, designers are rebelling against the notion of pristine objects. Altough it looks like a new notion, it has the same kind of approach as the ancient philosophy of Japane; wabi- sabi. That sensibility used to be absent in the west–Modernism being the exact antithesis of wabi sabi–but today, it’s refuge for young designs. Which makes a certain sense, if you’re a cutting-edge furniture designer: There are only a few ways to make a a product look perfect, but a million different routes to making it look messed up. With that in mind, here’s some of the pieces from Milan:
Designed by Tjep for Droog, a clearinghouse for conceptual design, the designs for these vases were borrowed from famous designers–the bubbly form is from a work by Marcel Wanders; the pink vase is by Hella Jongerius, for Ikea. But Tjep lined them with rubber, so that they don’t don’t break when dropped. Instead, they accrue cracks like a hard-boiled egg:

This table by Peter Marigold, looks haphazard, and in a way it is: The leather comes from remnant scraps, salvaged from the Fendi factory floor. But the willynilly shapes in the table come from the precise shape of a bisected square:

For more: http://www.fastcompany.com/blog/cliff-kuang/design-innovation/ancient-japanese-aesthetic-revived-milan

Brooklyn-based artist Donna Brady captures images of the city’s dilapidated buildings and melds them with the Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi (acceptance of the process of growth and decay) for her company Re-Surface Design.

“RE-SURFACE produces a range of hand-crafted lighting and interior décor objects with art at heart, and design in mind.“

Hello everyone! Firstly allow me to express my gratitude for checking up our blog and if you haven’t so please read the introductions page so we don’t have any misunderstandings. I’m Shizuru and today I will be talking of Japan’s prideful philosophy and a way of life; Wabi-Sabi. Hope you’re as eager as I… For lack of creative title, to sum up today’s lecture, I’ll basically try to enlighten you in understanding wabi-sabi and well I thought for my ‘’western’’ audience it would be best to compare wabi-sabi with an altogether known Modernism. (sips her tea)

N: Cut the crap Shizuru. The only reason you picked this topic is because of your tea obsession.

S: Ara…That is a frighteningly perceptive remark, I daresay. But wasn’t it Natsuki that picked last weeks topic due to her amazement of iconic language in her video games?

N: Whatever. Did you buy mayo when you guys went to Dia today?

S: We… forgot Natsuki.

N: You forgot? You forgot?!

S: I forgot a lot of things these days. I think it’s the cold- addles the mind.

N: Then let me chuck you into a nice warm fireplace, to help you remember!

S: Peace, peace! I didn’t forget! No need to get violent now Natsuki-chan. You can find your greasy substance in the fridge.

N: Saved for now. Anyway I’m off.

S: You do know it’s not ice cream, you’re supposed to ‘put some on’ the food not eat it spoonful out of the jar. We have to think of Ice and her figure sometime… And for your future threats we are staying in the dorms. We do not have a fireplace Natsuki-chan.

N: Got you didn’t I? Let me be. BesidesI don’t see the sucker anywhere close.

S: Don’t ask me to save you when she wakes up. 

N: Yea yea yea.

Anyways, since my secret is out I better start with today’s subject at hand. Please keep in mind that today’s lecture is a summarized compilation of Leonard Koren’s book on Wabi-Sabi. First of all I would like to talk about the founders of this philosophy; the Japanese. We are by nature a civilization that has always beckoned with profound ‘’answers’’ to life’s toughest questions. Although the path we followed or searched has always been somewhat secluded from the rest of the world which perhaps could be explained by our geographical position  in this world. Japan being an island is somewhat a crucial point that needs recognition in understanding of our sprititual philosophy, especially wabi- sabi. We believe the truth comes from the observation of Nature. The Japanese have tried to control nature where we can, as best as we can within the limits of our technology. But a lesson we learnt early in time was that there were little we could do about the weather- hot and humid summers, cold and dry winters, and rain on the average of one out of every three days throughout the year- except during the rainy seasons in early summer when everything is engulfed in fine wet mist for six to eight weeks. And there was little we could do about the earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, typhoons, floods, fires, and tidal waves that periodically and unpredictably visited our land. Therefore we didn’t particularly trust nature, but learned from it. And three of the most important lessons harvested from millennia of contact with nature were incorporated into the wisdom of Wabi-Sabi which I’ll be explaining in detail later on;

1. All things are impermanent 

2. All things are imperfect

3. All things are incomplete.

If you ask for the term definition of Wabi-Sabi to any Japanese, most will shake their head, hesitate and offer a few apologetic words about how difficult it is to explain. (Of course I wouldn’t want to you to be deluded from Natsuki’s bad manners for she would probably shoot you off. We are indeed a well-mannered civilization.)   Although most Japanese will claim to understand the ‘’feeling’’ of wabi-sabi -it is after all, supposed to be one of the core concepts of Japanese culture- very few can articulate this feeling. And why is this? Certainly not the lack of right genetic predisposition. The ugly truth would be that most Japanese never learned about wabi-sabi in intellectual terms, since there are NO books or teachers to learn it from. Though I wouldn’t wish for you to be fooled. This is not by accident. Throughout the history a rational understanding of wabi-sabi has been intentionally thwarted.

The roots of wabi-sabi enterweines with Zen Buddhism. The first Japanese people involved with wabi-sabi—tea masters, monks, priests—had all practiced Zen and were steeped in the zen mindset. Essential knowledge in zen doctrine , can be transmitted only from mind to mind, not through written or spoken words. ‘’Those who know, don’t say; those who say, don’t know.’’ On a pragmatic level this precept is designed to reduce the misinterpretation of easily misunderstood concepts. As a consequence, a clear expository definition of wabi-sabi has, for all intents and purposes, been studiously avoided. And of course wabi-sabi can be exploited in all sorts of ways, and one of the most tempting is to use it as an excuse to shrug off an unmade bed, an unswept floor, or a soiled sofa. ‘’Oh, that. Well, that’s just wabi-sabi’’ is especially a favorable tactic for dear Natsuki.

Wabi-sabi is the most evident and characteristic feature of what we think of as traditional Japanese beauty. It occupies roughly the same position in the Japanese pantheon of aesthetic values as the Greek ideals of beauty and perfection of the west. Wabi-sabi can in it’s fullest expression be a way of life. At the very least, it is a particular way of beauty. The closest synonym of wabi-sabi in English would be ‘’rustic.’’ Dictionary.com refers to the word rustic as; ‘’ simple, artless, or unsophisticated… (with) surfaces rough or irregular.’’  While ‘rustic’ only represents a limited dimension of the wabi-sabi aesthetic, it is the initial impression one may have when subjected to wabi-sabi. Originally the Japanese word ‘’wabi’’ and ‘’sabi’’ had quite different meanings. ’Sabi’ originally meant ‘’chill’’, ‘’lean’’ or ‘’withered.’’ ’Wabi’ originally meant the misery of living alone in nature, away from society, and suggested discouraged, cheerless emotional state. Around the 14^th century, the meanings of both words began to evolve in the direction of more positive aesthetic values and spiritual richness.

I find the best way to understand what wabi-sabi is and isn’t , by comparing and contrasting it with modernism, the dominant aesthetic sensibility of mid-late 20^th century of international industrialized society. Take in consideration that in my compare and contrasts I’ll be regarding ‘’middle’’ modernism, the kind that manifests with most pieces found in Museum of Modern Art in NY.

Thus I’ll start with the similarities:

• Both apply to all manner of man-made objects, spaces, and designs.
• Both are strong reactions against the dominant, established sensibilities of their time. Modernism was a radical departure form 19^th century classicism and eclecticism. Wabi-sabi was a radical departure from the Chinese perfection and gorgeousness of the 16^th century and earlier. To give an example by best explaining this would be tea ceremonies. The apostheosis of wabi-sabi; Sen No Rikyu, son of a merchant, had developed an interest in tea at age seventeen. It should be noted that before Rikyu aesthetic ideal of tea ceremonies were of the Chinese gorgeousness; the gold-leafed room, with grandeur dripping from every cup
• presented. So of course people were taken aback when Rikyu presented a new kind of tea room based on the prototype of a farmer’s hut of rough mud walls, thatched roof, and misshapen exposed wood structural elements. He created tiny tea huts (one and a half tatami mats, as opposed to the four-and-one-half- to eighteen-mat rooms that had been the norm) based on the traditional farmer’s hut of rough mud walls, a thatched roof, and organically shaped exposed wood structural elements. The hut included a nijiriguchi, a low entryway that forced guests to bow and experience humility as they entered. Rikyu made some of his own utensils of unlacquered bamboo (as common as crabgrass in Japan, but nowadays a Rikyu original is worth as much as a Leonardo da Vinci painting), and he arranged flowers simply and naturally in bamboo vases and baskets. Rikyu ’s ceremony became known as wabichado (chado means “the way of tea”), and it endures in Japan to this day. Unfortunately Rikyu’s turn toward simple, modest, and natural values was not well appreciated by his employers and in the long run ended with the order of Rikyu’s ritual suicide at the age of seventy. He is seen as the pioneer of wabi-sabi, his understanding of wabi-sabi from his death to this very day regarded as ‘’the codes of wabi-sabi’’… Ara I’ve been side-tracked in telling you of my favorite man in the history of Japan, so forgive me and I shall go back to the similarities.
• Both modernism and wabi-sabi eschew any decoration that is not integral to structure.
• Both are abstract, nonrepresentational ideals of beauty.
• Both have readily identifiable surface characteristics. Modernism is seamless, polished and smooth. Wabi-sabi is earthy, imperfect and variegated.

And then we come to differences which helps us more understand wabi-sabi when compared to a more known concept of modernism:

• Modernism was primarily expressed in the public domain whereas wabi-sabi was primarily expressed in the private domain.
• Modernism implies a logical, rational worldview. On the other hand, wabi-sabi implies an intuitive worldview.
• Modernism is absolute, wabi-sabi is relative.
• Modernism looks for universal prototypical solutions. Wabi-sabi looks for personal, idiosyncratic solutions.
• Modernism is mass-produces/modular. Wabi-sabi is one-of-a-kind/variable.
• Modernism expresses faith in progress whereas in wabi-sabi there is no such thing as progress.
• Modernism is future-oriented. Wab-sabi is present-oriented.
• Modernism believes in the control of nature. On the contrary wabi-sabi believes in the fundamental uncontrollability of nature.
• Modernism romanticizes technology while wabi-sabi romanticizes nature.
• Modernism is about people adapting to machines. In wabi-sabi it is people adapting to nature.
• Modernism is geometric organization of form (sharp, precise, definite shapes and edges) while wabi-sabi is organic organization of form (soft, vague shapes and edges.)
• Modernism needs to be well-maintained whereas wabi-sabi accommodates to degradation and attrition.
• Modernism is intolerant of ambiguity and contradiction. Wabi-sabi is comfortable with both.
• And finally modernism aims everlasting in it’s presence while wabi-sabi’s primary belief is that to everything there is a season decay and rebirth.

Basically the wabi-sabi universe in a metaphysical basis is that things are either devolving toward or evolving from, nothingness. (While the universe destructs it also constructs.) In spiritual values it can be said that truth comes from the observation of nature, ‘’greatness’’ exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details, and that beauty can be coaxed out of ugliness. It is acceptance of the inevitable, appreciation of the cosmic order, in moral precepts getting rid of all that is unnecessary and focusing on the intrinsic and ignoring material hierarchy. It is irregular, intimate, unpretentious, earthy, murky and simple just like my Natsuki.

Before I end my lecture today I can’t stop myself but share my favorite story regarding wabi-sabi;

I was when Sen no Rikyu desired to learn The Way of Tea. Hence he visited the Tea Master of it’s time, Takeno Joo. A simple test to wheter accept this man or not Joo ordered Rikyu to tend the garden. Eagerly Rikyu set to work. He raked the garden until the ground was in perfect order. When he had finished he surveyed his work. He then shook the cherry tree, causing a few flowers to fall at random onto the ground… Right that moment Takeno Joo knew Sen no Rikyu would be one the greatest example of wabi-sabi way of life.

Tosa Mitsuoki: Autumn Maples with Poem Slips (c. 1675)

Below is a brief video I put together using seven Japanese haiku by Sōseki, Bashō, Shiki, Buson and Issa.

The artwork in the video is by Tosa Mitsuoki (1617-1691), “Autumn Maples with Poem Slips” (c. 1675). You can view the full screen at the Art Institute of Chicago’s website.

The music is by Harold Budd and Brian Eno, “Still Return” from the album The Pearl.

The sources for the haiku translations:

Matsuo Bashō, Jane Reichhold (translator), Bashō: The Complete Haiku, Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2008.

Robert Hass (editor), The Essential Haiku: Versions of Bashō, Buson and Issa, New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., 1994.

Lucien Stryk (translator), Cage of Fireflies: Modern Japanese Haiku, Athens: Swallow Press, 1993.

Be sure to click the full screen icon to get the full effect.

There’s something irresistibly intriguing about abandoned buildings. Melancholic, beautiful and historically rich, they never lose their appeal for those of us who find consistent wonder in the traces of human life. They also are encompassed perfectly in the concept of wabi sabi, a Japanese aesthetic that recognizes the often overlooked, transient details of everyday objects. The decay of an abandoned building facilitates its return to an organic state of being, connecting it more intimately with its natural environment. Wabi sabi applies to the passing stages of life and death as well, honoring rather than fearing the decline of an organism or object’s life or utility. Westerners have difficulty appreciating this aesthetic and worldview, mainly because we are enveloped in a culture that is fanatic about the new, the boisterous and the artificial. I hope, however, that you’ll indulge your romantic leanings when you see these photos and see not buildings in desperate need of repair but rather structures steeped in culture and potential.

Kowloon Walled City, Hong Kong

Pod City of San Zhi, Taiwan

Ellis Island Hospital and "forgotten dune"

Bokor Hill Station in Phnom Bokor, Cambodia

Abandoned building in Detroit, Michigan

Some of these images, like that of the Kowloon Walled City, are widely recognized for the fame of the pictured buildings’ desertion. Others, such as the “forgotten dune” don’t even direct the viewer to a specific location; these are the truly forgotten and abandoned structures that nevertheless merit attention and respect. Thanks for looking and considering.

Image Sources:

http://weburbanist.com/2008/09/28/abandoned-buildings-places-towns-cities-asia/

http://applesandalligatorpears.com/2007/09/17/who-loves-abandoned-buildings-we-do-we-do/

http://pixdaus.com/single.php?id=134813

http://web.me.com/keithemmerich/keithemmerichphoto/Detroit_Abandoned_Buildings.html

This blog is about fine arts portraiture. I will be updating it periodically with work from my portfolio. But I will also be discussing topics relating to portraiture including the basics of working with models, natural light, the configuration of the studio, the use of archetecture both for establishing a background but also for controlling light, the Japanese aesthetic of Wabi Sabi and its application to portraiture, legal issues including releases, and upcoming workshops, exhibitions and contests of interest to fine arts portraiture photographers.

The Big Read is an idea sponsored by the Valley’s libraries. Each year a book is chosen and libraries sponsor events to encourage people to read that book. One of the events involves artists–I was one of the artists chosen to alter the book for a display at one of the libraries. This year’s book is Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

What makes the book interesting is that the 1953-written book has elements of  current reality–a society obsessed by television and celebrities, a fear of intellectual discussions at social functions, a minority kicking up a fuss about books, which are subsequently banned from libraries, and my favorite, a love of wearing earbuds and being plugged in to programmed music.

In my approach to altering the book, I chose the idea from the final scene of the book, in which people become living books. Readers live in books, so I created a row-house made of books. In the image below, the central house is Fahrenheit 451, surrounded by other book houses.The pages of the central book are stuffed with message tags.

Altered book, Fahrenheit 451. © Quinn McDonald, 2009

Each house represents a genre: mystery, science fiction, art and poetry. Because love of nature was banned in the story, the two houses on the left represent winter and spring, and the two books on the left represent summer and fall.

Altered book detail, left side © Quinn McDonald, 2009

Altered book right-side detail. © Quinn McDonald, 2009

The tags are all quotes about books, all  from famous people. Ray Bradbury’s own quote, “You don’t have to burn books to destory a culture, Just get people to tstop reading them,”  is there, as well as Salman Rushdie’s quote, “A book is a version of the world. If you do not like it, ignore it or offer your own version in return.”

Detail of book tags, © Quinn McDonald, 2009

In the heart of the book (I chose page 98 deliberately, as 98.6 Fahrenheit is the normal temperature of the human body), there are flames on one side and a matchbook on the other. The matchbook has a burning match on the cover, and the inside “matches” are the spines of books that have been banned in the past.

Right side detail, matchbook © Quinn McDonald, 2009

The matchbook itself is surrounded by paper flames that have already consumed the page of the book.

The tags are removable for easy reading, and can be used as bookmarks. I hope the book is displayed in a way that allows people to touch it and play with it.

Banned books as matches, detail of altered book, © Quinn McDonald, 2009

I read the book when I was about 10 and just discovering science fiction. My first big literary shock was discovering that Bradbury had made a mistake, paper bursts into flame at 451 Celsius, not Fahrenheit. Yes, I stuck a piece of paper in the oven to see it burst into flame.

It took me a long while to accept altered books. The thought of ruining a book was overwhelming. But the lure of transforming a book that was scheduled for the shredder into a piece of art won me over.

The satisfaction of planning out a concept and carrying it through was really satisfying. I am honored to have been chosen for this project. And yes, I do custom altered books to honor a special event or person.

–—Quinn McDonald is a life- and certified creativity coach. She teaches people how to write and give presentations. She also teaches people who can’t draw how to keep an art journal.

Photograph courtesy of Sandeep Sebastin.

]]> http://haikuist.wordpress.com/2009/09/29/haiku-29-september-2009/ Tue, 29 Sep 2009 07:20:29 +0000 Ikiru http://haikuist.wordpress.com/2009/09/29/haiku-29-september-2009/

riverflow—

two leaves falling

forever

~ for Angie

]]> http://empathicguidance.wordpress.com/2009/09/26/wabi-sabi-part-one/ Sat, 26 Sep 2009 00:54:50 +0000 The Empathic Guide http://empathicguidance.wordpress.com/2009/09/26/wabi-sabi-part-one/ http://kristinaosophia.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/bokstavstroende/ Fri, 25 Sep 2009 04:27:55 +0000 Livet runt 30...5 http://kristinaosophia.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/bokstavstroende/

Att sätta upp bokstäver och siffror på väggarna istället för eller som komplement till mer traditionell utsmyckning som tavlor och planscher är ganska trevligt. Med lite nötta bokstäver så är man ju lite wabi sabi också och det är ju alltid av vikt att hänga med i de senaste trenderna även om just wabi sabi var tänkt som en mottrend. För den som är sugen finns alfabetet hos bland andra Broarne, Spiti, Urban Living och Bruka Design.

Language has always been interesting to me. I study communication, so how language transmits meaning is an intriguing question.  Language, as pointed out in the “Tao of symbols” is fundamental in our ability to exist within reality. “For it is within and through language that the human mind points to itself and that is done, as we have said, by locking horns with language” (Tao, 129).  You may have heard the phrase “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  Well, considering that words form the foundation for our perceived reality, words can have a profound impact, either for the better, or for the worse.

The idea of words as symbols is so very relevant to an understanding of Zen (which I’m currently studying), and really, everything else. Basically, words in themselves do not have meaning. Like I.A. Richards explains in “The Meaning of Meaning”, a word is a symbol, and that symbol is connected to a thought, and that thought, in turn, like a triangle, is connected to an actual “something”. So the word “dog” is connected to a mental image or understanding of a dog, and then that thought is connected to the real thing. The word “dog” and the creature we identify as a dog actually have no direct relationship (The Rhetorical Tradition, pg. 1275).

Confusing as this may be, it is incredibly relevant to the study of zen riddles and Koan.  As the Tao article talked about, riddles such as those asked by Western philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein are “posed in order  to baffle, insult, cajole, or kick our minds into a clearer perception of language and thus reality” (Tao, 129).  (Questions like “What is the color of the number three?” and “Do we think with our feet?”.) Because language shapes how we view reality, it makes sense that to change your reality, you must change the way that you use language.

So then we get into these word games with the Zen riddles and Koan.  Something about shaping words shapes reality.  “Like Wittgenstein, Zen uses intentional nonsense to cut through conceptions born of language” (Tao, 132).

Interestingly enough, to compare Jesus and Buddha, both seem to have an understanding of this.  Both are deliberately confusing in the way that they speak to people.  Jesus spoke to people in parables, and said things like “If you lose your life you’ll save it”, “The first will be last”, and something about getting a camel through the eye of a needle. The Zen riddles and Koan that developed from Buddha are things like “The eastern hill keeps running on the water” (Tao, 134),”Two hands clap and there is a sound. What is the sound of one hand?”, and “On top of a flagpole, a cow is giving birth to a calf”.

This consilient view of language is interestingly enough tied to the idea of Logos (λογος) – the idea of language in general (literally translated as “word”), the Greek idea that there is a unifying principle in the universe (Heraclitus’ idea that the molecules in a stream are always changing, but you think of it as the same stream), the rhetorical idea that there is logic and rationality, and the early Christian idea found in John’s writings that Jesus was this Logos.

How does this make sense? If there is some unifying principle in the universe, and we aren’t seeing it, perhaps what we need to do is have our reality shaped and changed by language in a different way.

Zen riddles, Koan, parables, beatitudes, and all sorts of paradoxical language can be used to tear down our understanding of reality. This is a very Wabi-Sabi concept, allowing language to drift into rust or uselessness, leaving understanding a lonely wanderer by the wayside.

Yin and Yang are at the heart of paradox, as are the types of reality redefining statements that Jesus and Buddha make.  The idea of destroying understanding in order to create understanding seems just as paradoxical and Yin-Yang as night and day, or dark and light.

We are forced (or designed) to look at reality through the lens of language. However, it may be that our perception of reality is in need of change, maybe toward Zen, maybe toward Enlightenment, maybe toward Love, maybe toward God.  Whatever it may be, the way to shift our understanding is to shift the way we use language.  Jesus and Buddha both understood this – and meant for us to understand though our lack of understanding as well.

In Mark 9:24 the father of a boy Jesus heals tells Jesus “Lord I believe, help my unbelief.” My prayer right now is: “Lord, I understand, help my non-understanding”.

Peace (Shalom), Love (Agape) and Paradox (Understanding – and Not).
-Beth

It was Friday night in Melbourne and I was all psyched up for some Gigibaba action having soaked up all the hype. I’d even convinced FCN that it was a good idea and he is fundamentally against eating establishments that don’t take bookings (more on that at a later date). It just wasn’t to be… due to some exciting looking renovations Gigibaba was closed.

Round 1 – Shabu Shabu Duck with 2 kinds of sauce. As you can see the duck was delectably fatty and was nicely offset by the sharp tartness of the accompanying plum sauce and sweetness of the orange. The thought of Gigibaba was almost a distant memory by this stage as we were halfway through a reasonably decent pinot gris and admiring the japanese sauna house decor of Wabi Sabi.

Luckily Smith Street is full of old favourites so after my initial dismay I decided on Wabi Sabi Salon. If you are in a similar predicament you could do much worse than a visit to this quirky Japanese cafe who can lay claim to an amazing signature dish. I’d gladly eat just this – Wagyu Beef Sushi – mmmmm. However in deference to a more balanced diet we thought we’d branch out a little.

Round 2 – Eggplant with Tempei and Okura in Ankake Sauce. I must confess that Eggplant is by far my favourite vegetable. Having said that I prefer Nasu Dengaku and its fried miso laced decadence but this version was quite tasty and I dare say a little more healthy. The eggplant was nicely mushy and it was gobbled down in a flash.

Round 3 – the aforementioned Wagyu Sushi. Firstly, let me say this picture does these little taste sensations no justice. Secondly, there is something about this succulent meat wrapped around sushi rice with a creamy mayonnaise and dark miso sauce that is so moreish it will have you begging for more. Please just go and try it – delectable.

Round 4 – from the specials board – Chicken and Tofu hotpot. This was a lovely tasty dish with chicken meatballs and soft fresh tofu floating in a delicious broth however something was amiss.. it just wasn’t the wagyu sushi. We had some rice and some more wine and somehow, quite unusually, the conversation was drying up and I succumbed to greed… “Hey FCN, how about another round of the wagyu?”

In Andrew Juniper’s Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence (2003) he suggests that “if an object or expression can bring about, within us, a sense of serene melancholy and a spiritual longing, then that object could be said to be wabi-sabi.” Refer – wagyu sushi at Wabi Sabi Salon. I dare you to resist.

(Kristina) Wabi sabi är ingen illgrön pasta som får den mest hårdhudade att gråta blod vid en gnutta för mycket. Nej, wabi sabi är det senaste inom inredning.

För dig som trodde att du hade grepp om feng shui kommer nu en ny inredningsfilosofi. Wabi sabi är själva motpolen till trendigt nyinredda hem där allt köps enligt senaste möbelmässans rekommendationer. Istället ska det vara gammalt, nött och återanvänt, saker med betydelse, saker som du ärvt och som du älskar. Men fortfarande inte övermöblerat eller i överflöd, helt enkelt en mottrend till dagens konsumtionssamhälle.

Så när inredare och husinredningsorgan talar lyriskt om wabi sabi och fyller sida upp och sida ner med sliten elegans, säger jag bull shit. Detta är inget annat än kejsarens nya kläder enligt Kajsa Warg-principen att man tager vad man haver – och kompletteringsshoppar med lite nynött och patinerat.