Blog Cabin in the Woods

Everybody knows that once a holiday has hit, all of the remnant holiday gear goes on sale.  Our purchase was completely not pre-meditated, and probably not driven by the digression in my last post.  

Best $2 ever spent.  ha ha.  Poor Max.

Digression concludes.

And now for some autumn color, eh?

With my new job and D's new position and other family responsibilities, we elected to spend a weekend away from all the stress and chores and all.  So we whisked Bobby dog away to Hocking Hills. 

We rented a cabin with Old Man's Cave Chalets, and were really pleased with the place.  It was peaceful and quiet, and despite the cold and rain, we spent a lot of time outdoors in what has ended up to be one of my favorite memories of this year.

Ash Cave was just beautiful, and the scenery had us talking about Thoreau (of whom I am no fan), and Emerson (of whom I am); 

about the scary horror movie Cabin in the Woods, which, I mis-remembered to be the horror movie about the flesh-eating disease that was written by a guy who suddenly and horrifyingly caught a flesh-eating disease that almost, well, ate him (*it was Cabin Fever, my bad);

and also about fortifying a secluded cave-type dwelling in Native American times/in the event of a zombie apocalypse.  

Obvious downside in that the valley backs into the huge cave and cliff walls.  

Well, it would be good in that you know the direction of enemy approach, because there is only one way in to this valley that leads to the cave.  The cliff walls at Ash Cave are so sheer that your enemies would be daft to try scaling down them to surprise your forces on the sides.  Spelunking attacks weren't a successful old-timey battle tactic to my knowledge.  Still, you have no plan B.  There's no escape.  

 The cave itself would have been excellent protection against the elements, plus a fresh water source.  

Isolated for sure.  Great tree cover.  Terrible acoustics for keeping a low profile though.  Bobby was bound and determined to leap off of the cliff to play with the dogs barking in the cave below.  Voices and bird calls (and dog barks) bounce from rock to rock down into the cave and from the cave out of the ravine.  Nature's own fun little echo chamber.

And at one point we heard kids whistling and hooting and whooping from the other side of the ravine, and D hooted back at them like a monkey.  This continued for awhile, much to Bobby's utter glee.  Here was a primate symphony echoing all around us.  

 

And when we finally hiked down into the cave, we found that some poor people had been trying to get married in the cave, their ceremony surrounded by inescapable and untraceable monkey calls.  

But I bet the wedding photos will be nice.  

So there you have it.  Hocking Hills.  Not so far from Cincy.  

A beautiful way to spend a day.

Diversion : Sidetracked by Ogres and Peonies

Bobby is a smart boy.  He comes and sits and lays down. 

But he won't do any of these things outside.  In fact, he largely ignores us entirely when we are outside.  That might be because he was trained in prison, I'm not sure how much outside time he had.  He's so distracted, you call him, you give him a tug on the leash: nothing.  He doesn't even turn his head.  I don't know how we'll reslove that, but I do know that he cannot be allowed to ignore us.  If he does, and  goes charging around freely, he could run into the street and be hit by a car. 

So I'm looking into obedience training.  I was trying to do just that when I found this article about border collies used at Lunken airport (Inventorspot.com ) to harass geese and endangered/protected wildlife until they leave the runway areas.  It reminded me of this other article, about falcons being used to keep pooing birds away from tennis events.  I like the idea of using ingenuity, finding a natural deterrent/non-killing solution to a nuisance problem.  The animals just go elsewhere.  Problem solved.  And it gets a hawk trainer or dogtrainer an extra paycheck.  Good on them. 

(segway)

While I was at the inventorspot website I noticed one of the links was to an article (a really short one) called "Art of the Yakuza."   I can tell you that its true, the average person sees a tattoo in Japan and they think mafia.  Mine was dismissed quickly, because tattoos on foreigners are "for fashion."  One of my friends a former member of the Japanese Self Defense Force's naval branch had one.  I suppose he could have secretly been yakuza but... he was a hairdresser... I just can't see it. 

[Suikoden Heroes by Horimatsu]  These are really something. 
His photos are not posted here because he asks nicely on his website that people respect his ownership of his work. 

I've heard it said that some Samurai tattooed themselves so if their corpses were looted or their heads removed, their bodies could still be identified.  Don't know how true that is.  Three centuries ago, Japanese firefighters wore tattoos for much the same reason.  Or because they wanted to look like badasses.  Whichever.  And prostitutes had them.  And criminals were branded with them.  And then they were outlawed until 1945 I think.  Not that they disappeared, because foreign folks were allowed to get them while the ban was enforced (from quite an interesting essay by Mieko Yamada). 

Anyway, it was a slow day at work, so I surfed around for some Japanese tattoos.  I found this fascinating look at the life of a famous oldschool tattoo artist dubbed Horihide (from Selvedge Yard),  (and there's a companion piece with somewhat different text and different pictures here). 

I've now wasted an absurd amount of time surfing for information and photos of Japanese tattoos.  It was time consuming because a google image search shows you photos, and you'll say, "hey, that's neat," and you click on it, and the link takes you to some unsavory websites that you didn't intend on visiting.  In one search for Japanese peony tattoo, I clicked on a photo and it took me to a website for a casketmaker.  I tried to repeat this and got a totally different site the second time I clicked.

It's not a particular love of tattoos, more a love of Japanese traditional arts.  Textile dying and embroidery, ink paintings, ceramics, etc.  If I had had money while I lived over there, I'd have been in trouble!  Depictions of maple leaves, peonies, phoenix, carp, the rabbit in the moon, etc. etc.  Well, I enjoyed my quiet day at work.

And you can enjoy my time-intensive search too!  There's a linkbom for Japanese tattoos and art on the bottom of this posting on this blog that is not about Japan or tattoos.  ha.  weird.

I'm not sorry. 


South Waterfront Art & Design (used w/out permission)


In the process of my tattoo searching, I found a few sumie links, like this one, for sumie master Jan Zaremba.  His work really impresses me.  His landscape scrollwork is epic. 

   It got me to thinking.  I haven't picked up a brush for awhile.  It's hard to teach yourself, but I got some books and tried to.  With results that were mediocre.  I have wanted to find a Sumie teacher.  Sumie is black ink painting.  Surfing around the internet inspired me to sign up for a one-time Sumie workshop at the Art Academy of Cincinnati.  Alas, my enthusiasm was dashed when I was told the workshop had been cancelled.  But its ok.  I think this weekend I'll dust off the old brushes and rice paper and spend some time with my black inks and painting books. 



Hokusai's Philosopher



• Horimatsu, tattooing in Japanese art style in Sweden, his Suikoden depictions are vivid  
• Horiedo, supposedly the guy who tattooed the reallife gangster's daughter, Shoko, who wrote Yakuza Moon.   
• A woman named Ryoki,  a tattooist in Osaka
• Gakkin & Goch are 2 Tatooists working in Harizanmai in Kyoto  (love the geisha koi!)  (be warned, some images are beautiful, some are vividly grotesque and awesome, and one or two kind of lean toward the profane to me.  Don't click on those) 
• Hokusai's illustrations for Suikoden, something that strongly impacted the artistic sensibilities of tattooing
• Kuniyoshi's print series of Suikoden, (what I said one line up) 
• History of Japanese tattoos from Inked Plus
• A more thorough history  (and fun read) by Mieko Yamada 
• South Waterfront website (peony painting)



A Needed Decompression

I can scarcely remember not having a seemingly interminable to-do list.  This weekend we’re going to coat the basement floor, to get rid of the icky gridwork left behind after the asbestos tile and mastic removal.  Then we can finally allow all of the junk to submerge back into the basement.  Hopefully we can enlist some help from D’s friends.  (Fingers crossed.)  

Before the house renovation we moved.  Before moving there was the home-buying.  Insurance scouting.  A dozen purchase contract revisions.  Inspectors Inspectors inspectors.  The wedding.  House-hunting.  Wedding planning.   These last two took a lot of time and research and cross-referencing.  Many assured me that I was enjoying these tasks and that they were "fun."  They were wrong.  It’s work.  I’m willing to work.  I have my moments as a go-getter!  But really my natural equilibrium is not so ambitious.  I am laid back.  Honest.  I’m just not as laid back as D.  So it has fallen to me to assume the mantle of pace-setter in our home.  Sometimes that’s ok.  And sometimes I just want to scream.  Being the captain of the ship isn’t all barnacles of fun.  Nor does the crew obey, let’s be honest.

Sometimes I don’t want projects.  The girl inside me stamps her foot.  Sometimes I want to read one of the many books on the shelf, purchased ages ago.  Sometimes I want to curl up in front of the XBOX with Yuuki.  I haven’t been able to pick up where I left off in Fallout New Vegas since before we bought the house.  Or Enslaved.  Or Left4Dead2.  At this point I’ll have to re-teach myself the controls again.  Sometimes I want to sketch or paint.  I can’t remember the last time I felt like I had time.  Trying to teach yourself Japanese black ink painting is something that requires both patience and time … unless I can find a workshop down here in Cincy.  (Now there’s a thought!)  I have made a point of keeping dance a priority, I still don’t go on Thursdays in Cincinnati, where I live, I only go on Wednesdays, in Dayton, where I teach.  I’m practicing, though not pursuing.  This is a small difference, but still it makes me slightly sad.  Still, keeping it a priority has saved me from feeling like I never get out.  That’s sort of true.  I still sort of feel like I never get out.  

Of the many activities on the backburner, lately I had been idly mentioning getting back into yoga.  Yoga was so beneficial to me and my achey-breaky back after the car accident, but I just stopped making the time to go.  Started making excuses.  But I recently was kicking the idea around again.  It took awhile to find a yoga studio that isn’t either specifically geared to people who don’t have a day job, or specifically geared to people who like practicing yoga in a sauna.  This area of Cincy is hugely trended to hot-yoga.  I know, I know, people love the hot yoga.  It’s not for me.  My goal for my practice is now, first and foremost, to get back in touch with myself, to quiet my mind, and to stretch out this rickety body.  I don’t want to “challenge myself” or sweat into a deluge all over the place, slipping and flopping on my mat like a landed porpoise.  Maybe one day.  But right now I just want to devote an hour or so a week turning my eye inward.

Last night was my first foray into the Cincinnati yoga-sphere.  I haven’t maintained a proper practice, have not practiced at all in about a year.  After all this time, it was difficult just to get into these poses.  But walking out to the car I felt a quietness.  A tranquility, if you will forgive me for using a sneer-worthy word.  All of my agitations and disappointments and to-do lists didn’t vanish like magic, but they receded into white noise.  So often they are at the forefront of my mind, and I must constantly push my way around them.  The customary discomfort and tightness that has settled into the valley between my shoulder blades was gone.  (It ached later, but still, for a time, there was peace in the valley.)  I went home and cleaned the kitchen, girded with a glass of red.  Back to the to-do list so soon? you may say.  Well there’s always something to be done, isn’t there.  But last night I was able to let go inside of my frustrations and disappointments related to all things left undone and half-done, and poorly done.  I was able to just be.  And it feels like its been a long time since I have felt so well. 

“The greyhound has caught the rabbit. You have nothing left to prove. No one left to impress. You can now just walk…softly and happily through the rest of your life. ”  Urban Samurai : The Infinite Finish Line  

Summation: So I’m back in yoga now.