Lucky Stitcher

Good luck!  

It's an almost automatic response when you encounter someone who is getting ready to take a test, perform a song, give a speech or attempt to complete three phases of Japanese Embroidery in order to graduate by October.

Wishing someone luck implies bestowing upon them all good forces that can be mustered from the cosmos to support them in their journey.  As if luck is just sprinkled down upon us like manna from heaven and success resulting from luck is accidental or the result of divine providence.

Conversely, the standard phrase used in Japanese culture when someone is facing a challenge has nothing to do with luck.

For the Japanese, the standard no-thinking-about-it reply is

ganbatte! or 頑張って！or　がんばって

Gonbatte comes from the verb form gonbaru (頑張る,　がんばる) which means to strive, to try one's best.

In other words, luck only comes through effort and working hard. 

At the end of embroidery class in Japan, my sensei would say: Gonbatte kudasai!

And the students would answer: gonbarimasu (がんばります) or  "I will work hard."

Today, I'm happy to take the luck of the Irish if it's being offered.

But I'll count on the wisdom of the Japanese and just plain get to work.

I've got class this Saturday and I'm trying to finish as much of the gold honeysuckle vine that I can by then.

Go n-éirí an t-ádh leat and gonbatte!

Two Days until Harikuyo 2015

This Sunday, February 8, 2015, is the celebration of Harikuyo, the Festival of Broken Needles.

As many readers and needlebook course graduates know, Harikuyo is the day when the needleworkers of Japan take their used and broken needles to the shrine to respectfully put them to rest.  

I've written about the festival many times so if you're new to this blog, feel free to read more about the festival here, here and here.

I've been observing Harikuyo since 2011 when my BNF and Japanese-Embroidery sister, Carol-Ann Conway, posted about the festival on Stitchin' Fingers.   That year, I heeded her call to honor our needles in some way by making a special needlebook.  

It had 10 pages, one page for every type of needle I use, and a needle felt on the back cover for storing needles and pins that break throughout the year. 

Many of you liked the idea so I went on to make a pattern, create an online course, and sell woven fabric labels to sew onto the pages.  Since then, hundreds of you all over the world have made needlebooks...which just amazes me.

My original needlebook has rarely left my side.  It's one of my most treasured tools;  I use it as often as I do a pair of scissors.

This weekend, in honor of my five-year Harikuyo anniversary, I'd like to make a new needlebook.  

I'm not sure if I will finish it but I will at least start.  For some time, I've been wanting to make a modern etui of needlework tools that I use frequently in my needling life.    So...nothing like a holiday to get me motivated.

Which leads me to you.  

Would anyone out there like to join me??  Maybe you enrolled in the course and started but haven't yet made the book?  Maybe you need a new needlebook?  Or maybe you just need to organize and spruce up the one you already have.  I would love to hear stories about how you use your needlebooks and what it has meant to you.  Or, more simply, see just a photograph of your needlebook on your worktable or in its characteristic place.

Never thought of honoring your needles?  It's never too late or too early and what better opportunity than the festival this Sunday!  There's no goal or time limit, you can choose to play or not, or maybe just find a moment to honor all your tools that help you in your work. 

I will post my observation and needlebook progress on Sunday (not too early...how about Noon EST?) and will set up Mr. Linky on the post so we can visit your blog if you have something to share.  It will be a needle party!!

To help you along, I've re-stocked the needle labels in my Etsy shop.  Based on user feedback, I replaced the "Sashiko" label with an "Etcetera" label.  Turns out that not many folks use a Sashiko needle in their daily life (*WhAt??*)...Etcetera gives you the option to add specific needles such as felting, doll making, etc...

That means if you have a set of the original labels, consider it a limited edition!!

Additionally, I am parting with the original needlebook I made as a class sample...It's for sale in my Etsy shop as well.  There's only one...with the now out-of-print, original Sashiko page...  The needlebook has been sold.

Happy Friday everyone!  I hope to see you on Sunday for Harikuyo!

Kimono Exhibit at the Met

Over the Christmas Holiday, Jim Jack and I traveled to New York City for  a couple of days.  While there, we had the opportunity to go to the Metropolitan Museum for a day.  Jack ditched his parents and went off to do his own thing while Jim and I high-tailed it over to the Asian Arts section for the Kimono exhibit that I had read about in the paper.

Wow.



I have seen a few kimono exhibits in the past twenty years or so but never had I seen so many embroidered kimonos from the Edo period (1615-1868) on display all at the same time.

During the Edo period, Japan remained closed to outside influences by imposing sakoku, a foreign relations policy whereby no person could enter or leave Japan under penalty of death.  That means that the kimonos that are from the Edo period tend to be made from materials and dyes native to Japan.



It was amazing to see so many examples of Japanese embroidery using most of the same motifs and techniques that I am studying today...400 years later!



One was more stunning than the next...



Every carriage on this kimono was different and the colors were pure understated elegance...



I was particularly fond of this uchikake, a robe worn over a kimono...



It's embroidered with boxes containing shells from a shell-matching game...



I suppose its appeal might be the fact that the boxes, all different, are similar in style to the round box which I am currently embroidering. Notice the holding stitches over the orange satin stitches in the box interior...very similar to what I've recently completed on my last post.

The bottom edges of uchikake were stuffed so that the train would flow uninterrupted behind the wearer...



The uchikake below is also likely from a wedding...



Because it shows pairs of folded-paper butterflies, male and female, symbolizing the newly wedded couple.



Lucky for us, the Met has this particular kimono available for viewing in its online collection here so you can see the entire kimono up-close.

The Edo period ended in 1868 with the overthrow of the Tokugawan shogunate ushering in a period of modernization for Japan.  In the Meiji period that followed, Japan's isolationism ended and there began significant cross-fertilization between East and West.

Japonisme, an affinity for all things Japanese, influenced Western art.  See this kimono-inspired robe made for sale to European ladies...

The embroidery on this one was just phenomenal.



While Japonism was taking hold in Europe, likewise Western textiles and methods made their way to Japan.

The exhibit showed many examples of how new fibers and dyes influenced the kimono designs in the late 19th century.  The vibrant purple of this Meiji kimono was made possible with the availability of Western synthetic dyes.

It's shows a single cherry blossom tree with many birds...



and a lovely string of bells that stretch from branch to branch...



It made me wonder what it might sound like to hang a set of bells in the cherry tree out front for when the flocks of Cedar Waxwings return.  I wonder if the tinkling of the bells would scare them away?

There is so much to this exhibit that I can't possibly share it in one post.  Sadly, the exhibit closed last weekend but I did manage to take a lot of photographs.  I set them up in a Flickr album for your viewing pleasure.  You can either manually progress through the album which gives you time to read the placards here...or, if you prefer, you can watch a slideshow beginning here.

You might want to set aside some time to go through it properly.  There are over 200 pictures there.

It took me hours to go through the exhibit.  I was so absorbed that when I finally came out of my trance, I found I had lost track of Jim.

Tomorrow I'll tell you where I found him and what caught his eye...

Harikuyo 2014

Today, February 8, is the day of the Harikuyo Festival in Japan.  

The day when kimono makers, seamstresses, quilters and embroiderers go to a shrine with their used up needles to properly lay them to rest.   "Hari" means needle and "kuyo" means memorial service and for the last few years, I have been honoring this festival by holding my own personal harikuyo.

To my great delight, many of you have joined me.

This year I have only four broken needles in the felt on the last page of my needlebook...

But even though there are only four, it is the first year that a Japanese embroidery needle has landed in the burial group.  In fact, I don't ever think I have broken a Japanese needle since I started Japanese embroidery many, many years ago.

That means that the needle that is second from the left below has been in my Japanese needle felt for over 20 years...

That's a long time.  It's also kind of interesting that this is the year when I've put Japanese embroidery back on the front burner.  

In fact, in April I will be starting a piece called Queen of Flowers, its subject being the Chinese Tree Peony.  It also happens to be my favorite flower. 

In Japan, broken needles are placed in a block of tofu...something soft that relieves the needles from the harshness of their labors.  This year, I chose a soft and fluffy cotton ball.  

I wrote a note of gratitude and folded the needles into an old scrap of pattern paper...

And buried them amongst the tree peonies in my garden...

Wishing that the spirit of my needles will combine with that of the tree peonies and inspire and guide me through my embroidering of this flower later this year.

Even though it's still freezing, I can see that the tree peonies are beginning to bud.  Jim told me this morning that he sensed Spring was coming because he was already beginning to sneeze.

I didn't believe him then...

But now I do.

We spend this day not only honoring our needles for their service but also by being grateful for the skills that we've acquired over this past year.  The more hours we spend with a needle in our hands, the better stitchers we have become.

Likewise, so much of the time we spend with our needles is meditative.  We are thinking of our family and friends, we are suffering from grief or the loss of a loved one, we are joyful because of a wedding or a birth...all of these emotions that travel from us through the needle and into our embroideries are honored as well.  Pray that sadness and anxieties are laid to rest along with your needles and that any joy and happiness is retained with you.

So many of you have made Harikuyo needlebooks in the past few years.  I'd love to hear how they are working out or how you may have chosen to honor your broken needles this year.  Just leave a comment below and let us know.

For those of you who are new here, you might be asking "What is Harikuyo?"

Check out these prior posts on the Japanese tradition:

Preparing for Harikuyo...trip to Japanese shrine

My Original Book of Needles

Needlebooks Multiply in 2012

Harikuyo 2012

Harikuyo 2013

Spring is coming everyone.   Jim says so and I think his nose is even more reliable than Punxsutawney Phil.  

Hari-Kuyo: Laying our Needles to Rest

Today is Hari-kuyo, the Festival of Broken Needles in Japan.

As you know, I've been busy preparing for this day for a few weeks now. I've got a few butterflies and a bit of nerves, but I am mostly excited and can't wait to share this great little book with all of you.

What better way to celebrate our needles than to launch an E-course that creates a home for them. I remember very distinctly this day last year when I began my year of honoring my needles and caring for the ones which broke along the way. And I wouldn't have even made a needlebook if it hadn't been for my friend Carol Ann who encouraged a whole group of us on Stitchin Fingers to do something to honor our needles on this day.

So this morning, following last night's full moon, I went out to my back yard and buried my broken needles.

I had read that the Japanese remove the needles from the shrine, wrap them in paper and toss them in the sea. I'm not sure if this is true or not but the closest body of water to me is the Patapsco River down the street. Unfortunately, too many fishermen wade into that river for me to want to place the soles of their feet in danger. So...the backyard it was.

I wrapped them in an old piece of pattern tissue...

And I buried them in the ground along with a prayer of gratitude and a few wishes for my new needle year.

And then topped them off with this grave marker...

I buried them on the mossy side of the yard so I'm hoping mother nature creates some magic on that rock as well.

My crazy friend's husband, Lane, is a student of all things Japanese and prepared this poem for us honoring this day, A Needle's Lullaby.

It was such a gift to all of us that he chose to share our observation of this special day. And it's nice to know I'm not the only one full of sentiment for this tradition.

It leaves me with a good feeling to lay my needles to rest and honor them in this way. And I'm really looking forward to sharing my special book with all of you.

So, here's a link to the page that gives you all the details about the Hari-kuyo Needlebook E-course. There's a tab for the page under the header of my blog.

I've set up the course to be flexible for those who would like to make a needlebook similar to mine and for those who just want the pattern and would prefer to use their own supplies and perhaps design their own cover. One course price kit includes the kit, the other does not.

Many of my friends from the pilot group intend to make another one now that they have the pattern and have successfully made one.

I will eventually offer a .pdf pattern for download but it won't be available until after I finish offering the E-course.

For those that are not interested in the E-course but are interested in purchasing a set of labels for an existing needlebook you may already own...

You can find them for sale individually in my Etsy shop here. They are woven sew-on labels with the text embroidered on the label. You will also find pre-cut felt for the needle pages for your convenience.

Thank you all for coming on this adventure with me. I have lots of fun planned over the course of the next few weeks and I cannot wait to get started.

Should you enroll, you will be receiving a welcome email from me early next week inviting you to the private course blog and giving you more specifics on how we'll get underway.

And here's a button for your sidebar...

Happy happy day to you all.

And thank you to all of your broken needles.

Hari-kuyo, My Book of Needles and Next Week

I've been using my Book of Needles for almost a full year now.

In that time, this book has been my constant companion, my reliable friend, my #1 can't-do-without sewing tool, my nécessaire...

I'm rarely without it. And it's held up beautifully.

I love the different pages for the different types of needles...they keep me organized so I can quickly find the right needle for the right job. And I love love love that it feels like a real "book" with lots of fun details hidden inside.

I made it last year in honor of Hari-Kuyo or the Festival of Broken Needles which occurs every year on February 8 in Japan. You can see the original post here.

Each February 8, the sewers and kimono makers of Japan will go to a shrine, taking with them their broken needles and pins that have served them in the prior year. (Hari means "needle" and kuyo means "memorial service".) The needles/pins are placed into tofu or konnyaku. The act of placing them in soft tofu serves to soothe the needles after their many hours of sewing.

The women bring their needles to their final resting place, thank the needles for their service, and pray that the needles' power and energy will stay with them and help to improve their sewing skills in the coming year.

The Japanese believe that all things have a spiritual essence and they have a great respect for the objects used in their daily life. It is important to respect the objects' service and not be overly wasteful by thoughtlessly tossing them away. In addition to sewing needles, I've heard of rituals for disposing of calligraphy brushes, broken combs and other tools used by craftsmen.

Last year when I made my Book of Needles, I created an intermediary rest stop for the needles that I break throughout the year in the back of my book. You can see that I've gathered quite a few...

waiting to be properly laid to rest on Hari-Kuyo matsuri, next Wednesday, February 8.

There's a lot more to the tradition which is better explained in this beautiful self-published pamphlet. It's worth a read.

Open publication - Free publishing - More japan

In preparation for next week's Hari-Kuyo, I've been working hard behind-the-scenes designing and sourcing materials in order to offer an e-course, pattern and supplies for making your own Book of Needles.

I have a group of friends who are participating in a pilot class and so far I am thrilled with the books they are making and the feedback they are giving me. It's very exciting to see it all come to life.

They'll finish them on Saturday so I'll share more after that.

But this is just a teaser...stay tuned until next week when all will be revealed.

And have a very Happy Monday.

My Prayer for Sendai

My Hearts and Hands for Sendai quilt block is finished -- ready to head off on its journey and become part of a larger quilt to benefit Sendai, Japan.

You'll have to forgive me now because I'm going to get a little deep. It happens sometimes when I've spent many hours with a project that comes from my heart. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I believe that embroidery is a spiritual exercise.

I believe that great love and energy has been generated by every person who picked up a needle and made a block for one of these quilts.

I believe in the power of your energy as you read this blog post and bear witness to its message.

I believe that all that power...the power of all those communal stitches and thoughts...has, indeed, already helped someone in some way.

I never underestimate the power of human connection...the power of us. And the power of our hearts and hands to help Japan.

I had the good fortune of living in Japan for close to three years in the early '90s and feel a strong connection to the land and the people. I enjoyed all of the many festivals that occurred in my local village and tried to participate in as many as I could. But one of my absolute favorites was the ceremony of Toro Nagashi at the end of O-bon.

O-bon is a festival that honors the spirits of deceased ancestors. O-bon occurs in either July or August and lasts for three days. On the last day, there is a lantern lighting ceremony called Toro Nagashi where floating lanterns are lit and released into a river in order to guide the spirits of the departed to their afterlife.

I remember the mood being fairly somber as families wound their way through the streets down to the river bank...many of the young children dressed in kimono.

Just seeing all of those lit lanterns making their way downriver...

Well. It's quite a beautiful sight.

And you definitely feel a profound sense of honor and respect for those who have left this earth.

I knew I wanted to include those lit lanterns on my river in this quilt block -- to honor the thousands and thousands of lives that were lost.

And Mt. Fuji as Japan's most sacred mountain...and symbol of national pride...

And the moon reminding us of the passage of time. That Japan has existed for a very long time, through countless lunar cycles, through countless disasters, and will continue to persevere through countless more.

The bridge...connecting...

Connecting one state of existence with another. Connecting the losses of the past to hope for a brighter tomorrow. Connecting all those whose lives were lost to their afterlife.

And I tried to use Japanese textiles...kimono silks, sashiko quilting, and shibori...to remind us of the great strength and beauty and resourcefulness within Japan.

Made by my hand in the West, sending great love and hope to my friends in the East.

If you are interested in making a financial contribution as part of our fundraising/quilting effort, visit this post to see how you can donate.

I'm heading to New York city with Jack for the day tomorrow but when I come back on Tuesday, I'll try to put together a few Japanese fabric packs for sale...all proceeds to go to Sendai.

See you then.

Past Posts about this block:

Cherry Blooms

The Great Wave

Building a Bridge

When there are no words...