Little quail

                   

         It's so sweltering hot all the words are evaporating before I can type them out. 

        It's all just being saved in the cloud somewhere, as a draft.                    

        And energetically, today, I feel like doing nothing, and everything. I'll have great plans, look at my projects, feel overwhelmed. Start something, and then get distracted. My goats have been getting out all day, munching on my current bushes, and gorging on all the sacred yard greenery.

        I have been chasing them round and round, yelling at them like a crazy person. Oh the howlings, and growlings my neighbor's must hear........

       I've been trying to figure out how they keep getting into the yard, (the goats---not the neighbors) with little result. 

                Round and round. 

                Hence I've decided that I'm posting about my two teeny quail. That seems about my speed today. 

                  A couple months ago, I bought an incubator, and had fun hatching out chicks. I had them just about the right size to put out in a little pen to get some fresh air, when my dad's dog made quick work of them when my dad came over to get a hair cut.

        I decided to forgo hatching any more chicken eggs. 

 I was curious about hatching out some quail eggs, so I bought some eggs on ebay, and only two quails hatched successfully. 

                 I'm thinking in future, I will use a different incubator.

                On a happy note, these two quail are darling. You hold them, and they fall asleep in your hand in odd positions. Sometimes they sleep with both feet stretched out, like big-bird. They jump like little crickets and zoom around like little moths. 

                The other day, I took them out into the living room, and they both shot under the couch. I thought maybe I might never see them again, as they could get caught in hair, or spider's webs. 

                With some coaxing I was able to get one out, and then squishing my head right next to the couch, I was able to talk to the other one, and get him out. 

                   They make a soothing peeppepepep sound, like a wild bird. Much more soft than a normal chick's sound. They are very cuddly, for birds. I'm happy I hatched them out just because I enjoy them so much. I've been thinking of names for them. Buttons, and freckles maybe, but cricket, and fleck may be more appropriate. They'll probably go through a dozen names before one sticks. Anyhow this is about as much writing I can squeeze out, maybe I'll stop saving stuff in the cloud of drafts, and write more in future.  

 

 

A Koto, a trumpet, an eclipse, and a Crown

 

                                 

            Life is an ever flowing stream. It's always moving even when you are still. You're always connected even when you don't realize it.

            A couple weeks ago my retired High school Journalism Teacher contacted me and my sister wanting to know if we wanted to take care of a Japanese instrument. A Koto. She said that a woman who plays it was going to do a concert in our home town, and then wanted to leave it at our house, and teach us lessons.

            I wasn't sure. Nor did I know any details. How long we would have to learn it? What was a Koto?  But after Bess and I talked about it, we were like, "Well... maybe? Sure, let's try it. "

            I had zero idea what a Koto was, or how big. But I have been going though faze of listening to Japanese zen music, and really was having fun listening to a Japanese violin.

            So I thought I might like to try it.

            I didn't have a clue what to expect.

            The day of the concert, we went to meet Shirley.

            As we walked into the dark auditorium, the most amazing trumpet music floated through  the air.

            A lovely man playing a trumpet began walking down the isles.

            It was the most profound sounding trumpet player I have ever heard. The sound was silky, clear, crystal powerful---poetry.

   Perfect.

            I saw another man in an isle, I waved, and chirruped out a very odd sounding "hello!"

            Then realized I had interrupted his video of the trumpet player.

            Bess and I quickly sat down, embarrassed.

            We humbly listened.

            The trumpet player walked up to the stage, and played right besides the Shirley, the Koto player.

            She sat on a little seat, her knees bent to the left, and a long, harp-like instrument spread out in front of her.

            The sound of the koto  was beautiful, haunting, a mysterious, enchanting, oriental harp, wise, and clever. 

            The trumpet complemented her playing, it was both passionate, spirit-filled, and heartfelt.

            It was so beautiful, I was feeling a little intimidated, and terrified at the same time.

            My old journalism teacher caught my eye, and she sat down by us.

            When they were finished playing, we all introduced ourselves, and enjoyed getting acquainted.

            The trumpet player, Mark Inouye, is a principal trumpet player for the San Francisco symphony ----And Shirley Muramoto is a master Japanese Koto player. It was the first time they had ever played together.  Both had parents imprisoned in Japanese internment camp at Topaz. Both came to Delta, I believe, as a soul journey, to their past, to honor their parents,  and bring awareness and remembrance to what happened to so many innocent people.  Here are links to both of their pages.

Shirley Muramoto, https://skmkoto.com/

Mark Inouye: https://www.inouyejazz.com/biography.html

 

 My High school journalism teacher, Jane Beckwith, has been an advocate for those imprisoned at Topaz. She made it possible for the Delta Topaz museum to be built in memory of what happened.

Here's the link for the Topaz website.  https://topazmuseum.org/

 

Jane has always been a voice for what happened there. Through her efforts, she has brought a lot of people together to teach and learn about the past. 

            Shirley's mom learned to play the Koto from another woman at the internment camp in Delta when she was a young girl. And Shirley's mom then taught her daughter. And her daughter, Shirley, now teaches the koto to many people.

            Mark, the trumpet player, had a father who had been in the camp, as well.

    Shirley showed us an old picture of her mother glued onto the side of the koto. The picture was of her young mother, and her koto teacher in the internment camp.

            She told us about the koto, and showed us its unique body. The koto is very long, and beautiful. It is the national instrument of Japan.

     It has 13 strings, and thirteen bridges. The Koto is represents the sacred dragon. It's 6ft in length. It is supposed to symbolize luck, strength, and power to those who are worthy of it.

She gave us finger picks, and showed us how to strum it, and then she showed us the music we were going to learn from.

            This is where I had a heart-attack! The music reads in Japanese number symbols, vertically, top to bottom. Nothing like I'm used to.

            It took me a while to comprehend this. I was glad my sister, Bess, was playing first, and I was able to ask a few more questions, before it was my turn.

  

        Shirley, was very patient, and kind. She  eased my fears, and I eventually calmed myself down, and sort of played out some notes, getting a feel for it---very awkwardly.

 Either way. After our lesson with Shirley, we visited, joked about my sister's and I, random hippy music style, my funny toe shoes, and then we all parted ways.

            A few hours later we came back to listen to their concert, which was lovely. I thought both musicians were kind, real, and had lots of heart.

            I very much like Shirley, and the music they played haunted me long into the night.

             All and all, my sister and I surmised it was a unusually unique day.

            When we got home, the power had gone out. So we brought in some solar lights, and Bess and I went back outside, and wandered the alfalfa field, watching the moon rise over the mountains, and my sister's, Golden-doodle, Honey, jump through the alfalfa in glee.

            Then we biked long into the night, interested in seeing how dark everyone's houses looked without any power on.

            The next day we were on our bikes again, and I happened to be lucky enough to have my camera with me to capture the moon just before it disappeared in a eclipse.

       

     So maybe the Koto does bring luck. Because I felt lucky to have been on the road the exact time, with my bike, with my camera, to see this rare, beautiful event. I probably would have missed it if I hadn't been visiting a neighbor-friend. 

            .....So back to the koto...

      I did a little video of what the Koto sounds like, at least my first strummings.

 

            Though, please note I'm not playing it right in the video. I'm just making some nice sounds. We just had our first zoom lesson on Thursday, and I got my hand positions corrected. I guess I'm only supposed to be playing with my thumb---for now.

            I feel lucky that Bess was able to figure out how to tune it. Thirteen bridges, and strings makes for a lengthy tuning session. I'm hoping I can get the hang of it, as it's supposed to tuned every time up play it.

            Something I realized about the Koto. For me learning it is going to have to be all about being in the moment. Reading each symbol as it arises.  I already checked ahead in the book and it has a string of Japanese symbols all lumped together, different than the beginning pages. It stopped me in my tracks.

            I have zero idea what they mean.

            Shirley told us to only play the first six songs.

            But I had planned on going further ahead, to see what was about it.

            But nope. That's not even remotely possible.

            Youtube doesn't have much I can glean from.

            So I'll just have to be patient.

            Learn, note by note, page, by page. And as she is my mentor, I'm just going to do as she says.

            Before our first zoom lesson, I had spent a few days learning on the wrong finger. And that was not too good.

            Now that I stand corrected. My thumb is going to have a workout.

          It is a very soothing instrument to strum. It looks strong, and powerful---like a woven web that you pluck, and make haunting sounds.

            I find the symbols challenging to read, yet they help quiet my mind.  

            It has been a interesting "string" of events of firsts for me and my sister.

            And tomorrow, I'm getting a tooth crowned. My very first crown, as my tooth randomly fell apart. I'm terrified! Then after that, I'll be reading scripts for the next play for this coming summer. I would like to prepare for that, too.

            Yet.

            Jumping too far ahead, gets you learning to play on the wrong finger.

            Either way. I feel lucky. Strange. Good, bad.

            I feel so very rearranged in so many ways, much like my bedroom which I had to tear apart in order to fit the Koto into my living space.

            It's caused some worry....how my sister and I will both learn it, keep it safe, and in tune.  But something I stumbled upon today in my research spoke to me.  I was looking up the history of Kotos.

        The word Koto in kanji characters means “speech” or “word."

            And the word Kotoama---means word spirit.  "tama"  means “spirit” or “soul.” Kotodama.---more in the link : https://kokoro-jp.com/culture/1147/?fbclid=IwAR3fCmIwGdIaTB4ZlAp9J2L9CCo8jJB8KykTLGzTVMriwP8c-FuDAVAYZU8

         It made me think that maybe this long, "word spirit" dragon, stringed, instrument is supposed to be sitting in my room.

           Maybe not.

            Maybe it's just luck.

            Or chance.

            Or something.

            I mostly don't know. And it scares me a bit. Not knowing.

            All I know that this Kotodama "word spirit" is taking up most of the space in my room. I'm not sure how to play it. It's long, unique, sophisticated, loud, soothing, and intimidating, and soft, and all at the same time. And I love the sound.

            I guess I'll just strum a bit at a time, and hope I'm doing it right.