"In the beginning, she found herself in a new and empty space. All was white, and the corners were a bit flaky, and the carpet was a bit mankybut it was a good space. She sat in the centerand saw a clean white sheet of void."

The Sunday after Nara,
I left I-House little later than I would have liked, but I still made it to the cafe to meet with Kiri-san. The cafe was very quaint--just a few quiet tables in the back room, just past the front room, in which all manner of cute, nifty handmade crafts and accessories are on sale.
I bought the Libra print finally, and Kiri-san and
I spent a couple of hours chatting. We shared our sketchbooks with each other--for which I was very fortunate, since Kiri-san said she didn't show many people her sketchbook. I don't tend to share my sketchbook with people very often either, now that I think about it...
We talked about what sort of things inspired us, styles we liked, where she worked, what I studied. She was very, very kind and complimented my work. In short, we had a lovely chat over toast and coke, artist to artist, all in Japanese for the most part. (Can't deny I'm a bit proud of that, even if I do require frequent aid from a jisho when my range of vocabulary falls short.)
My all-day bus pass and I took me over to Kitano Tenmanguu shrine once more. My Japanese religion sensei had told us the previous day about some rituals the marathon monks from Hiei-zan were going to be performing in Gion, and then at Kitano Tenmanguu, and I'd hope to catch the second them at the shrine. I took the wrong bus, or at least the one that took twice as long to get where I wanted, although I probably would have been just as late if I had waited to take the right bus, which I had unfortunately just missed.

I walked through the shrine again, though. Every time you visit a shrine or a temple, or a garden or park, even, it's a different experience. I took some extra pictures in case we needed some for my group's presentation on Kitano Tenmanguu in my Introduction to Japanese Culture class. Plus, in doing all that research, I know a lot more about the shrine and its history now.

The Tenmanguu shrines in Japan are all dedicated to Tenjin, Sugawara no Michizane's kami. In life, Sugawara no Michizane had been an important statesman, a dedicated scholar, and an excellent writer in his time. Unfortunately, his ambitions clashed with those of the Fujiwara clan, and he fell victim to their political intrigues, also falling out of favor with the Court. He was exiled to Kyuushuu, and died shortly thereafter a lonely and bitter man, longing once again to see the ume blossoms of Kyoto.

Not long after his death in 903, several natural disasters and much social unrest struck Kyoto. Members of the Fujiwara clan, as well as others, who were involved in the schemes resulting in Michizane's exile, met unfortunate and sometimes early ends. The people of Kyoto believed it was Michizane's spirit wreaking vengeance upon the capital. To placate his angry spirit, the Imperial Court posthumously restored his title and offices, had the order of exile burned and erased from official records, and finally ordered the deification of Michizane as Tenman Daijizai Tenjin. The disasters ceased, and Michizane's status as a goryou, a vengeful spirit, changed to that of a protector deity of the state.

The term tenjin actually predates its usage as the name for Michizane's kami. It comes from an old Chinese term for "heavenly deity," that is a deity coming from the heavens, as opposed to deities native to the land. At the Kita-Shirakawa Guusha shrine, Tenjin is actually still worshiped as just a kami who can control weather and natural disasters, but most elsewhere, the idea of Tenjin has evolved into something quite different.

Tenjin's current incarnation is an amalgamation of the original thunder and rain kami, Michizane's goryou, and the esoteric Buddhist gohoujin, or protector of Buddhist Dharma. In the Muromachi period, Tenjin became one of the three deities of waka poetry and shoudou, and by the Edo period, he was also seen as the patron kami of scholars and terakoya, since he was such an accomplished scholar and poet in his lifetime.

A baku in the framework. Baku are essentially a kind of chimera from Chinese mythology,

usually with an elephant's nose and tusks, a lion's mane, tiger claws, a cow tail, etc.,

whose main purpose are as nightmare-eaters. (Usually they're seen as benevolent,

but sometimes they cause problems by eating dreams.)

Besides poetry and calligraphy, plum trees and oxen are closely associated with Tenjin. The reason for the plum trees is quite obvious; Michizane was deeply enamored with their imagery from early childhood. One of the first poems he wrote, at the tender age of five, was about how he wished to paint his cheek with the plum blossom. The story behind the oxen was a little more difficult to find. It is said that the ox pulling Michizane's remains during his funeral procession supposedly refused to budge beyond a certain spot, upon which Dazaifu Tenmanguu shrine was built.

Today, Tenjin is venerated mostly as a kami of learning and examinations. As I mentioned a couple of months ago, many students, and their families, visit Tenmanguu shrines to pray for success, particularly in January right before examinations begin. In February when test results are generally released, they also return to give thanks--coincidentally at the same time of year when the plum tree groves of Tenmanguu shrines are in bloom.

Photos I snapped while I was scrounging for food in town:

this is where the Takanogawa river, on the right, splits from Kamogawa.

"She held the Charm to her face, and reflected in the Charm was

a city of lost horizons, and tall and towering stories.

And just as it had been reflected in the charm,

so it appeared in the void. And when there was no more room,

she turned it over, and continued on the other side."

~Mirrormask