A good friend recently told me about a popular book on "wabi-sabi"... a Japanese philosophy of living. I was intrigued with her brief review of the book, and as our local library staff would gag before putting such a book on the shelf, and we have no book store in town, I googled the term. There is much written about this, however, these excerpts from an article written by a Japanese architect, Tadao Ando, were more authentic sounding than some of the "pop" articles I scanned. He writes poignantly and in great detail about the subject. In brief, he describes wabi-sabi thus:"Pared down to its barest essence, wabi-sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in nature, of accepting the natural cycle of growth, decay, and death...it reveres authenticity above all. Wabi-sabi is flea markets, not warehouse stores; aged wood, not Pergo; rice paper, not glass. It celebrates cracks and crevices and all the other marks that time, weather, and loving use leave behind. It reminds us that we are all but transient beings on this planet - that our bodies as well as the material world around us are in the process of returning to the dust from which we came. Through wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace liver spots, rust, and frayed edges, and the march of time they represent.
..In Japan, there is a marked difference between a Thoreau-like wabibito (wabi person), who is free in his heart, and a makoto no hinjin, a more Dickensian character whose poor circumstances make him desperate and pitiful. The ability to make do with less is revered... For us in the West, this might mean choosing a smaller house or a smaller car, or - just as a means of getting started - refusing to supersize our fries."
Ando goes on to say that "the term Wabi has come to mean simple, unmaterialistic, humble by choice, and in tune with nature.. Sabi things carry the burden of their years with dignity and grace: the chilly mottled surface of an oxidized silver bowl, the yielding gray of weathered wood, the elegant withering of a bereft autumn bough."
I guess I should no longer be embarrassed when someone laughs at me for wanting to take the fallen branch or an armful of dried reeds and weeds home to arrange in a vase! Or for not wanting to refinish and varnish the old table bought at a garage sale. I understand more why I am drawn to old animal skins and bones and feathers. And why I love to take pictures of old, weathered farmhouses and fence posts. And why I hang onto cheap, often chipped, depression glass or kerosene lamps that belonged to my great-grandmother... Or the small chair my grandmother's grandfather made by hand for her when she was a toddler. These are just a few of my wabi-sabi treasures.
I loved living in my two-room "barn" those seventeen years. My mother hated it. It didn't have the modern kitchen and comforts of even a small apartment. My dad was so embarrassed by it that he refused to bring his wife or any of their friends to visit me there. He said he was ashamed of its rustic appearance, and said to one of my children, "She doesn't have to live that way." However, it never stopped my kids from visiting; and I held many fun -- even spiritual -- get-togethers with family and friends from my church in that simple wabi-sabi barn surrounded by woods. And oh, how I grew emotionally and spiritually during those lean years. Yes, Dad, I did have to live that way, and I am better for it.
I guess I should no longer be embarrassed when someone laughs at me for wanting to take the fallen branch or an armful of dried reeds and weeds home to arrange in a vase! Or for not wanting to refinish and varnish the old table bought at a garage sale. I understand more why I am drawn to old animal skins and bones and feathers. And why I love to take pictures of old, weathered farmhouses and fence posts. And why I hang onto cheap, often chipped, depression glass or kerosene lamps that belonged to my great-grandmother... Or the small chair my grandmother's grandfather made by hand for her when she was a toddler. These are just a few of my wabi-sabi treasures.I loved living in my two-room "barn" those seventeen years. My mother hated it. It didn't have the modern kitchen and comforts of even a small apartment. My dad was so embarrassed by it that he refused to bring his wife or any of their friends to visit me there. He said he was ashamed of its rustic appearance, and said to one of my children, "She doesn't have to live that way." However, it never stopped my kids from visiting; and I held many fun -- even spiritual -- get-togethers with family and friends from my church in that simple wabi-sabi barn surrounded by woods. And oh, how I grew emotionally and spiritually during those lean years. Yes, Dad, I did have to live that way, and I am better for it.
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My other two grandchildren, Cameron and Hannah, also did extremely well in school this past year. Cameron finished his sophomore year at LSU, and Hannah completed fourth grade at the Dallas School for Gifted and Talented. Cameron wrote the following at my request: "I got a 3.8 last semester, and a 3.5 this semester, so grades turned out pretty well. I probably could've done better if not for being so preoccupied with the operas. I spent anywhere from 10 to 30 hours a week in rehearsals or doing shows, so obviously, it cut into my study time. Hardest classes were music theory, German, and biology.
(This summer) I'm working at the same job but it's not necessarily a preschool for the deaf. It's a regular preschool that deaf kids attend during the school year. The deaf kids are about to leave for the summer while the kids with hearing will stay there over the summer. I only work with the deaf kids here and there. There's not much of a difference except that I have more experience now and I feel I've gotten better at my job (not that I was bad in the first place). It beats the heck out of flipping burgers; I like having a job that can keep me intellectually engaged. I'm always observing the kids, and trying to figure out how I can guide them as well as trying to evaluate their personal needs. They're a ton of fun. It's almost like I get to be a kid again with them - playing pretend, hide and seek, freeze tag, etc.
(In my opinion, those children are lucky to have such a neat guy to teach and play with them! But then, I'm a lucky grandmother to have you for a grandson.)
(In my opinion, those children are lucky to have such a neat guy to teach and play with them! But then, I'm a lucky grandmother to have you for a grandson.)
My first professional opera gig is going to be The Barber of Seville with Opera Louisianne (in Baton Rouge) in November of this year."(Image at right is from a Knoxville production of The Barber of Seville.)
My son Craig -- always the wit in the family -- responded to my request for news of Hannah with this: "Dot and I decided we would just tell you that she got her first B, said no to drugs and stayed abstinent. Ain't that enough?"
Ha! Of course that's not enough for this grandmama! Hannah's mom Dot wrote that because Hannah transferred to the magnet school for gifted and talented this past year, and it was such a dramatic change from her previous school, she was not involved in any extracurricular activities. Although she made her first "B" (in Social Studies) this year, she brought it up to a 90. Her mom said that Hannah is a voracious reader, at times to the detriment of doing her homework.
In my opinion, a "B" in a gifted and talented school where students are pushed to the limits to excel is pretty darned good! It's good in any school, and is probably equal to an "A" anywhere but there.
Hannah's summer: "Summer will be at daycare and includes Six Flags, Hawaiian Falls, Ripley's Believe It or Not, Wax Museum, Medieval Times, swimming twice a week, weekly library trips, movies, Farmer's Market trip, and cooking lunch."
Sounds like lots of fun to me! Hopefully, we can squeeze in a trip to Grandmama's house as well.
Until next time, this is your wabibito, Marilyn, signing off
with peace and love.
My son Craig -- always the wit in the family -- responded to my request for news of Hannah with this: "Dot and I decided we would just tell you that she got her first B, said no to drugs and stayed abstinent. Ain't that enough?"Ha! Of course that's not enough for this grandmama! Hannah's mom Dot wrote that because Hannah transferred to the magnet school for gifted and talented this past year, and it was such a dramatic change from her previous school, she was not involved in any extracurricular activities. Although she made her first "B" (in Social Studies) this year, she brought it up to a 90. Her mom said that Hannah is a voracious reader, at times to the detriment of doing her homework.
In my opinion, a "B" in a gifted and talented school where students are pushed to the limits to excel is pretty darned good! It's good in any school, and is probably equal to an "A" anywhere but there.
Hannah's summer: "Summer will be at daycare and includes Six Flags, Hawaiian Falls, Ripley's Believe It or Not, Wax Museum, Medieval Times, swimming twice a week, weekly library trips, movies, Farmer's Market trip, and cooking lunch."
Sounds like lots of fun to me! Hopefully, we can squeeze in a trip to Grandmama's house as well.
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Until next time, this is your wabibito, Marilyn, signing off
with peace and love.
Does Cabo Wabo count?
ReplyDeleteIs that Cabo Wabo the night club -- or Cabo Wabo the tequila..??
ReplyDelete