11th Oct. 2013

 

My lovely homeland

 

My expression of the sound of waves that should be heard by king Jakou when he had landed in Japan was vividly echoing within my heart and that coincided with the impact of my newly created marbling tapestry that I dyed in the inner garden of the Koma gallery Café under the Yasaka tower. I cherished them and a sad memory of past history was nursed and I envisioned a brilliantly shining sea with hope for a glorious future. King Jakou should know this light in this land. I dared to take this tapestry back to my home while there was no space to install it in my house in Tokyo nor in Morioka. Then I thought that it would fit my home in Kyoto and today I brought it to Kyoto. The tapestry seemed to know the most suitable position and it fitted best one next to the writing desk brought from the land of forty degrees north latitude that traveled from Tohoku to Kyoto through Kanto and Tokai. The sad souls of Koguryo people in Japan seemed to have travelled with it and were heading for our lovely homeland. One day I was expressing into a poem the voice of souls that I heard in Kyoto and a gust of wind generated circles on the surface of a pond. I felt that they would reach up to Mt. Gojo and created a poem true to the message I had received and wrote that we would head for Mt. Gojo all together. I vividly recalled that this surprised me as I did not expect to hear this on that occasion and I was filled with passion to pave a way for unifying people in East Asia and I could not resist crying from the bottom of my heart. I could not resist my hidden passion coming up. I was not alone and numerous souls of people shared the same. My internality became very hot as if it were burning and trembling. My tear drops verified that finally the time had come to fully express my heat and realize it. Endlessly I cried and realized the presence of souls of people from many generations in history that have been waiting for the arrival of this time. The time and place were designated and I was guided to Kyoto. When I created the poem in Kyoto that wrote that from Kyoto we would head for Mt. Gojo, I felt like having a dream, however now I was filled with joy to pave a way for my lovely homeland.
So my life in Kyoto was together with souls of Koguryo people who ended their life of exile in Japan. The sound of waves, my marbling tapestry and the writing desk brought from a land of forty degrees north latitude were all unified as one and heading for our homeland. When souls of people in the past would be resurrected, hearts of people now alive would be nursed and hearts of people in the future would become vigorous. I could not imagine a better life than my own one. I could not fully express in words my deepest gratitude.