Collecting and Restoring Some Old Pottery Equipment

As the year has dragged on into 18 months since the fire. We are flat out busy with the re-building project. We had a slow start waiting for the insurance company to decide what to do, then putting plans to Council for building approval. Everything takes time. We weren’t sitting on our hands during this waiting period. We shifted the burnt out orchard and all its well composted and richly fertile soil up the hill so that we could build the new pottery on the old orchard site. We were able to get that done before the end of winter, so that we could plant all the new bare rooted fruit trees before bud burst.

Although we spend every day working on the building, there is always a few minutes or and hour here and there that can be stolen from the shed project to work on restorring these odd bits of old machinery. I found a couple of unloved bits of machinery that were worth restorring. One was so corroded that it took an angle grinder and then a hammer and cold chisel to clean the rust and scale out and get it unseazed and rotating again. I have become a lot more familiar with bearings, oil seals, gear boxes and pulleys these days.

This is about as bad as it gets before the rust eats through the wall of the machine.

After chipping away at the flakey scale, then attacking it with an angle grinder with a rotary brush, then finally hitting at the stubborn bits with a hammer and cold chisel…

It has come good and has now had a coat of rust converter, phosphoric acid.

There isn’t much that an angle grinder, wire brush, hammer & chisel, then a few coats of rust converter and primer can’t fix. – and a week of evenings!

John Edye, eminent potter and my Friend and collegue of over 40 years has retired from making pots.  When I heard that he was retiring last year, I got in touch and asked what he was intending to do with all his equipment. I was very lucky that I was first to ask. As we lost almost everything to the fire in December 2019, It crossed my mind that he may be interested in selling some of it to me. I was particlarly interested in getting a dough mixer for my clay making. As our old one has now gone through two fires, in 1983 and again in 2019. I was lucky enough to get it going again in ’84, although it was quite wobbly afterwards. After this last fire the burning roof beams fell in on it and the main shaft was so badly bent, that I couldn’t rotate anymore.

We bought John’s dough mixer, damp cupboard and some pot boards.
It was a bit of a job getting them out of John’s very beautiful, but remote country property, deep in the wet forested gullies between Kulnurra and Wollombi. John was well prepared and had all the gear up on pallets, or steel pipe rollers. My friend Dave has a truck with a pal finger crane, so we were able to get in there and lift the gear out.
Everything was much easier at my end, as I have a concrete slab floor for the first time in my life and a pallet lifter trolley to move heavy bits of machinery.

John’s mixer in its new home, with a nice view from the window.

I have started to grind and clean the inside of the bowl. It’s had its first coat of rust converter. it still needs a couple of top coats of a hard wearing oil-based machinery paint to suppress the rust.

I have also been offered a pug mill, shimpo wheel, Leach style kick wheel and various other bits and pieces of pottery gear from other friends who have surplus equipment, are also retired or are choosing to go smaller, but these are yet to arrive here.

The crusher room in the machinery shed is filling up slowly as I tinker away in my spare time after work between midnight and dawn as I slowly pull apart, clean or replace, then reassemble and finally paint this diverse collection of antique crushers and grinders. This is such a different aspect of my philosophy of self reliance, but actually quite rewarding and enjoyable.

I have painted them up in bright colours like big toys – just to cheer me up a bit.

I need to stop lazing around and get some real work done! The pottery studio needs to be finished, as this is the last room to be completed. Then we can apply to the Council Inspectors to get our final inspection and a Occupation Certificate. I know that there will be many little items that will need to be done and ticked off to get it all through. I just don’t know what they will be yet, not until the inspectors tell me what are.

I’ll deal with them when the time comes.

The Art of Embracing Damage

We live in an age of instant access to information and news, except that it’s all mostly bad. I’ve stopped watching the news. It’s all too depressing. I don’t want to be ‘connected’ to this. I want my interactions to be quiet, peaceful and positive. I want to choose a constructive, creative, engagement with my environment and the people around me.

I have spent my life developing a philosophy of minimal consumption and self-reliance. I believe in not buying anything that I don’t need and not throwing anything away that isn’t fully worn out. This has been part of an exploration of how it might be possible to live frugally and gently in a faster, noisier and bigger world of seemingly senseless and excessive consumerism.

My Partner Janine King and I work in isolation, making only what pleases us. This is not good business practice, but we don’t think of ourselves as being in business. We are trying to live an independent creative life, that is sensitive to our surroundings, gentle on the earth, low-carbon and low-impact on others around us. We are attempting to live this life of small monetary rewards, but high satisfaction and so far it seems to be working out OK for us.

I work with the raw materials that I can find around me in my immediate locality and then research and test them, to attempt to discover what interesting qualities they exhibit and then try to make original ‘location-specific’ works from them. I find this approach most fascinating and very rewarding. I have discovered a single-stone native porcelain, and developed a body from it that is very beautiful, especially when wood fired. I have also found and developed a single-stone, washed basalt gravel, blackware body that is gorgeous. These two special materials are the result of a lifetimes research. Not much to show for a life, but I continue to create these Senseless Acts of Beauty, because it pleases me. I am under no illusions. I know that I could not have lived this quality of life without Janine as my partner to help me achieve it, but most importantly, we have been very lucky to have lived this simple, artistic life in Australia, where there has been no civil unrest.

It has been my intension during my career to make simple, elegant, and hopefully beautiful bowls. These bowls have been significantly influenced by Japanese and Chinese aesthetics as well as the  Japanese culture of tea and Zen Buddhism  I’m not a Buddhist. But some of the thinking around Zen practice has influenced my quest to live a simple, non-consumerist, low-carbon life. When I was studying the origins of single-stone porcelain in Japan recently. I did a course in Kintsugi. The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and pure gold. I have started to repair some of my more interesting failures using this technique.

Kintsugi embodies three Buddhist concepts and makes them tangible. The first is ‘wabi-sabi’. Realising that something that is flawed and imperfect can still be extraordinarily beautiful  The second is ‘mushin’, the concept of non-attachment and acceptance of change. Nothing is perfect, nothing lasts and nothing is ever finished. The last is ‘mono no aware’, a certain wistfulness at the impermanence of things. We are only here for such a short time together. Our transience is a reality of our life. Embrace the moment as it is.

I feel that when I repair a beautiful pot that is broken, damaged or otherwise ‘non-perfect’ in a Western, conservative sense, I make it all the more beautiful. Spending time recovering and enhancing something that is otherwise lost, is a sign of great respect for that object. It fits well with my philosophy of minimal-consumption, self-reliance and making things last as long as possible.

Because kintsugi has been called the art of embracing damage, it occurred to me that these, recovered bowls might be a suitable and beautiful metaphor for recovery from conflict. Hence my offering them for inclusion in this up-coming end-of-year show at Watters Gallery called ‘war’.

I have very few ambitions in life. When I was young I decided that I would live in the country and to grow my own food, to make a creative life of some sort, build my own house, and live a self-reliant life. I have more-or-less fulfilled all of these modest ambitions.  My lasting ambition is to make things that are meaningful, simple and modest. I go about this work of creating random acts of beauty without any regard to the effect that it may have on others. I am selfish, but not thoughtless.

Our indigenous peoples have a long tradition of respectful collecting, gathering and hunting. I feel that my small experiments interacting with the natural world, collecting stones to grind up to make my pots are compatible as a contemporary continuation/interpretation of this ancient practice. It respects place and biota. It’s 40 years since I moved to this small Village in the Southern Highlands south of Sydney. I’m pretty self-contained here. I don’t want for a lot, so I have everything that I need and I am grateful for that.

My bowls are small, simple gestures. They appear to be empty, but are in fact full of good wishes and calm, thoughtful intent.

The exhibition ‘War’ at Watters Gallery opens on Wednesday 23rd of November.

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Kintsugi is the traditional Japanese art of repairing damaged pots with gold.

I am surprised and delighted to find out that there will be a kintsugi workshop held here in the next 2 days. Kintsugi is the ancient technique of repairing old broken porcelain pots with gold and lacquer. It is astonishingly beautiful where it is done well and I have often wondered how it was done. In fact, just before we left Australia to come on this trip, we had a wood kiln firing and I had 2 nice pots with cracks in them. I decided to repair them as best I could, using araldite and gold leaf. As I didn’t know any better. I did a rather clumsy repair with the two-part resin bond which worked out sort of OK and then ordered a packet of gold leaf. The gold leaf only arrived in the post one day before we left. I was so busy packing that I didn’t have time to open the letter. It is sitting waiting for me to return so as to finish the job.

I have always admired pots with chips and cracks that had been repaired with lacquer and gold. It shows such respect for a treasured object. The philosophy of kintsugi is based in the honour that is shown to objects, everyday objects and the respect shown to things that are old or even damaged. It is linked to the idea of wabi-sabi in Japanese Zen Buddhist practice. A beautiful thing that is broken in some way is still a beautiful thing, just as it always was. Being shown the respect of a tasteful and respectful repair, makes it even more beautiful.

 A beautiful thing that is broken is not necessarily rubbish, but something worth showing respect to and honouring by giving it a new life as an even more beautiful repaired object.

Years ago, I was told of a story of a Japanese shogun that had a very valuable Chinese tea bowl, which got broken. He loved that bowl and sent it back to China to be repaired. It was returned with a lot of metal staples holding the parts together. He was bitterly disappointed and asked someone to invent a method of repairing his cherished bowl in a more elegant way.

Although it was developed in Japan for the repair of valuable tea ceremony objects, kintsugi has found favour all around the South East Asian area over time.

I spend 2 days in an intensive workshop with the local Kintsugi Master. I take along some cheap, cracked and chipped pots that I found in the rubbish pile at the workshop here.

First, we learn how to clean the pot, prepare the surface, repair the crack with the special bonding agent and then leave it to set overnight. Once the repair is secure, for big cracks or for pots that are broken into many pieces, or for pots with small pieces missing the procedure takes longer, as the missing parts need to be filled and worked up, back to the original contour. This can take many days for a big job, as there is so much drying time between layers.

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On the second day I learn how clean and prepare the surface again so as to accept the  lacquer. A red lacquer is used to build the surface of the repair, as gold reflects well off a red background. Once this part is completed satisfactorily and the lacquer is ‘going off’ and getting ‘tacky’. The gold is applied so that it will stick to the prepared surface. This is then left to dry well before burnishing. We don’t manage to finish all our pieces in the 2 days. I will return later to collect my dried and stabilised pieces. I manage to get one simple one completed and take home with me. It’s a really great experience and couldn’t have come a better time for me. I’m cleaned and prepared and ready to be filled with Kinsugi information. I can’t wait to get home to try it out on my own pots.

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A repair done on a large, chipped antique porcelain bowl by the master using both gold and platinum.



The Shosei-en Garden

We decide to make the pilgrimage to the shosei-en Zen garden before we leave Kyoto.

This garden has a very long and chequered history. It started its life as a beautiful orange grove , called the ‘Kikoku-tei’, somewhere in the Heian era around 800 to 900 AD. Built by the son of Emperor Saga. In the 1600’s the Tokugawa shogunate ‘acquired’ the land and passed it to the Higashi Hinganji Zen temple. Perhaps to appease their conscience?

Anyway, whatever its past history, god had her own way and it was completely burnt to the ground in 1858, and then just to prove that she really meant it. She did it again to what was rebuilt 6 years later. Get the hint!

In the early years of the Meiji restoration around 1870 to 1900 Everything was rebuilt and restored to what we can visit today. A beautiful, tranquil space, right in the middle of Kyoto, just a few hundred metres from Kyoto’s busy main station.

There is a very pretty tea house on the lake – lovely !





Templed Out

The Lovely and I continue our temple sojourn around Kyoto. From Gold to silver, from dry  to wet. From gravel to moss, from austere tea house to dense bamboo thicket. We’ve come to visit the Bling-By-The-Lake again. It is cosily nestled into the side of the hills that surround Kyoto on the North Western side. There are people everywhere here today. They come in waves that coincide with the arrival of the bus or trains. However, there is always the possibility of finding a quiet place and moment to take in the atmosphere and be still while being there with it.


Ofcourse, there are other beautiful vistas beside the lake and its bling. We walk around the lake and up through the gardens. This thins out a lot of the visitors straight away. The whole place is so well kept. I starts me wondering how many gardeners that it takes to keep a place like this clean and tidy as well as weeded and pruned?

It doesn’t take long to find the work going on all around us, but very discreetly, just slightly out-of-the-way, but there in plain sight, if you take the time to see.

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We take the opportunity to take tea in the garden. No one else seems interested in this simple pleasure today, so we have the garden to our selves.

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We take the walk between the Golden Temple and Ryoanji Temple, famous for its raked gavel garden. It’s an easy 15 min stroll. The crowds thin out toward lunch time. Everyone seems to go off to have lunch.


We spend some time here taking it all in. It is certainly serene. Although people are coming and going like gentle waves and tides all the time. It is possible to just sit and stay focussed and let it all pass.

I leave with a sense of quiet.  I go to the loo and see this warning on the ‘sharps’ disposal bin in the cubicle. “While applying your make-up, don’t drop your baby in the sharps bin. Or if you do, don’t try to remove your lost child by hand, you might get jabbed. Do not drop your cigarette butts in the ‘sharps’ bin after the baby”. What kind of world is this? Why would this warning be necessary, unless it has happened once? It’s a jarring juxtaposition with the raked grave outside.

IMG_2972Next, we go to the silver pavilion, which isn’t, but it has a lovely garden. The Silver Pavilion is situated right across town on the other side of the city nestled into the hills on the North Eastern side.  We take the time to do the full walk. It’s a very beautiful garden and looks all the more impressive now in spring, after some rain and a warming climate. The mosses are glowing and wet under the forest canopy. The last time I was here, it was autumn and quite dry, so the mosses were very thin on the ground.




As we leave the Silver Pavilion precinct we encounter the all the usual marketing and merchandising. Selling us some object that we don’t need to clutter up our lives to celebrate the non-acquisitional nature of true buddhist philosophy! Actually, I’m not a Buddhist. I don’t believe in reincarnation or the cycle of life. I believe that we are here just once. So make the most of it now! While saying that, I do still find comfort in the concepts explored in Zen. Be here now! The past is finished and gone, so don’t dwell on it. The future hasn’t happened yet, so don’t worry about what hasn’t happened and may not happen. There is only Now. Live to the full. I attempt to live this way, but mostly fail. Still, it doesn’t hurt to try.

We take our leave ‘karate’, empty-handed and head out along the Philosophers Path. This is a lovely winding, gentle walk along the canal, from the Silver-less Temple back toward the city. The cherry blossom is still lingering on some late trees and the petals drop down into the water and float along  with the steady current of the canal in a soft pink carpet.


This walk culminates back near the Nanzen ji temple, so we make our way there. This is one of the first Buddhist temple sites Established in Kyoto. It is quite extensive and is a National Cultural Asset. It was established in the mid twelve hundreds and subsequently burnt down and re-built in 1600. It also has a raked gravel garden with rocks and mosses, but not as imposing as Ryoanji. However, because this temple is quite out-of-the-way and a long walk from anywhere. There are very few people here. So it is very quiet and peaceful.



It’s been a very full couple of days of long walks around this lovely city. We finish up by visiting the Kodai-ji Temple in the evening to experience the gardens under artificial light. There is a bit of a projected light show in one of the pavilions, but the best part is the garden walk up the hill and around the extensive site. Very beautiful with the almost full-moon rising. A lovely day and night and we have the sore feet and legs to prove it. What more could you want?


reflections on the pond.

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Crouching dragon, Where’s the tiger?

We end the day with well-earned gyoza, Kimchi and a beer.


The Temples of Kyoto

We have a lot of good cabbages coming along just now so we decide to have a cabbage pancake, our version of okonomiyaki from Japan. We slice the rest up finely into a cabbage salad with sesame and shiso dressing.

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We follow this delight from our garden with sushi in Tokyo.

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Followed by a full Japanese delightful mixed meal in Kyoto.


We spend a day walking the temples of Kyoto. We re-visit our favourites, because they make us feel somehow centred and located in a place that we know as familiar, but also because a half hour spent sitting quietly there is very relaxing and grounding. There are temples here dedicated to anything and everything. There are temples featuring gold, silver – or the lack of it, rock, gravel, bamboo, water, moss. You name it there is a temple or shrine here dedicated to it.


Gold in water, Gold in spring, Gold in winter, Gold inside and out.

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We spend a couple of days visiting a lot of them. It’s so good to revel in the non-acquisitive nature of buddhism.

There is an ancient tree in a shrine by the side of the road. It is very old and needs a little bit of health-care. There are a team of workers and flying arborists, trimming, lopping and preserving what can’t be lopped. It will give this old tree a new lease of life.

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I’m so pleased to be back in Japan.

Schrödinger’s Bell

I’ve re-located to Kyoto now. Only for a few days, as there is a potter that I need to meet. I’m staying at the Chitta Guest Inn, here in Kyoto. It is located just a few minutes walk from the Kyoto central station, which makes it ideally suited to walk to the Higashiyama, potters district, or to catch any bus or train to anywhere. The lady who runs this Inn is Kahori Inada. She is a really helpful person, with a bright outgoing, talkative personality, and she speaks English really well. Which is a great help when you need to call someone who doesn’t, she has done English translation for me on the phone and made appointments for me. A fantastic service. The place is very well-kept and clean. Shoes off, and tatami mats all through. Sleep on the floor on a futon. I see in the foyer, that she got a 8.8 out of 10, review on ‘trip-advisor’.

Keep in mind that this place is low-key, for young back-packers. It has shared toilet and shower facilities down stairs. No problem for me. It has wifi, TV and air-con that I don’t use. The cost is Y3,500 per night. That’s about Au$40! where else in an advanced country can you find a fantastic, basic, private room for that amount of money, so close to the centre of town. It’s pretty amazing as far as I’m concerned. So that is why I keep returning here. I thoroughly recommend it.

The Inn is located directly opposite the large temple of Higashi-Honganji, so I can’t help but hear the temple bell in the morning. In Arita, the temple bell rang at 6.00 am. and then every 35 seconds for ten minutes. 17 strikes.

Here the temple bell is so much larger. It resounds for longer. Almost one minute. So it sounds only ten times, but it starts at 5.20 am. and then 10 strikes on the minute until 5.30 am.


I decide to go over the road and have a good look at it. While I’m there I decide to sit a while in the main temple. It’s huge. The main room is divided into three sections and is just completed being fully restored. The floor area is 12 x 14 tatami mats + side spaces that double that capacity. That’s 336 tatami or 700 Sq. m. While I’m here, there is only one other person in this gigantic space. I sit quietly for a while. contemplating my time here.


I’d love to show you a picture of this beautiful place, but god has forbidden it apparently. All I can show you is the outside areas, as god isn’t too concerned about that? God is a funny concept!

I wander around amid all the construction works. This re-building program has been going on for years now and is almost complete. I can see from the signage, that re-construction is due for completion in 2016. I finally locate the bell in the corner of the grounds. It’s a beauty, but hard to photograph, as I can’t get a clear shot, due to the position of the workman’s service huts or ‘dongers’, as we’d call them in Australia, placed right up close to it. What I can see is that there doesn’t appear to be any mechanical apparatus or mechanism attached to the big log that hangs from its chains, ready to swing into action. There is just a long white rope. So maybe here I will find that robed, dedicated Monk at dawn, doing his daily ritual?



The next day I’m up at 4.45am., dressed and ready and out the door with my camera in hand by 5.00 am. As soon as I’m outside, I Suddenly hear it. A bell striking the hour, but it’s a long way off and only faint. I haven’t heard this particular bell previously from inside my room. I make my way over to the Higashi-Honganji Temple. I walk the road to the gate that is normally open, but find that it is shut tight. I can’t see any indication or signage, as to when the temple is open, but clearly it isn’t now. I wait patiently outside the gate, just in case it opens, but it doesn’t. Only a minute to go, then there it is. Deep and resounding and lingering too. A very fulfilling sound and feeling. I feel it in my solar plexus. I stand and let the sound immerse me. At this early hour, there is only the occasional passing vehicle. I linger on, eyes closed. The next strike and then the next…

Was it Monk or machine? I for one will never know! It’s a bit like Schrödinger’s bell, I can’t look to see the outcome. It will always be both.

What is the sound of one hang(ing log) clanging?

Fond regards from Steve in Kyoto.

Kyoto Temple Walk (and a little shopping)

I’m back in Kyoto again now and I have a day to walk some of the interesting temples and shrines. Some I’m re-visiting, others, I haven’t managed to get to before. There is never enough time to do everything in Kyoto. As this week is Silver Week in Japan, There are going to be a lot of people around, So I decide to avoid a lot of the crowds, by going to some of the lesser known Temples and Shrines. I start at the nearest Temple to where I’m staying, The Higashi-Honganji Temple. This temple is located just 5 mins from the Kyoto Station. Straight up Karasuma-dori. I was here very early the other day, to listen to the temple ring out the dawn. Today, I’m here at a much more reasonable hour.

I walk up to the main temple. It is virtually empty. Only a few people are in there. It’s a huge space. The main room is 12 tatami mats by 14 mats in the central section. There is another 2 side sections that double this area. I sit quietly and ponder my day. I don’t sit cross-legged very comfortably for too long, so I get up and decide to stand for a while. It’s quite peaceful and quiet inside this mammoth room. I really enjoy just being here in this ambiance of quietude.


After leaving this sanctuary I cross the Karasuma dori and take the back lanes to the Shosei-en Garden. This is a lovely little garden space, tucked away in these quiet back streets. I walk down to the Shichijo dori, not too far, then cross the Kamu river. While I’m on the bridge. I can see a heron patiently working the shallows for its supper. In the distance I can see two men also working the rapids with weighted, circular throw nets. I’m too far away to be able to see if they are catching anything. Over the bridge, I come to the Sanjusangen-do Temple to see the 1000 goddess/deity images, called ‘Kannon’, each with 38 arms. That’s 38,000 arms, but it doesn’t grab me! I’m listening, but she doesn’t speak to me in any way. In a city with so many temples, you have to have some sort of gimmick to stand out and get some notice. Most are ‘armless, but not this one. It’s fully armed to the hilt.


This huge wooden temple is enormous and set in very nice grounds, with large gravelled, open spaces, but as it is a well-known Temple and it’s Silver week. It is totally crowded. It’s hard to find a quiet place to sit and think. All those ‘Kannon’ deities, are impressive in their numbers, but the actual image isn’t all that aesthetically pleasing to my eye. I’d have taken a picture to show you, but there are signs every where saying cameras will be confiscated if pictures are taken. Isn’t it funny how many different and sometimes conflicting rules God has. It’s almost as if they were all made up by self-interested people!  And maybe god doesn’t even come into it. Perhaps we are all just acting out our own private power struggles, trying to get a gimmick and them milk it for money, power, prestige? Actually, this place reminds me of the work of sculptor, Brian Doar, who I exhibited with for many years at Legge Gallery and more recently at Watters Gallery. It reminds me of Brian’s sculptures on acid, or Speed, or both. Except that Brian’s sculptures are more engaging. I find a quiet place out in the garden, past the gravel, in some of the very scarce shade. I spend time to take in the scene. Older couples ambling around, Little kiddies running around, burning off energy, while one or other of the parents has the chance to get a serious look at ‘Kannon’ and the massive buddha in the centre of the long wooden hall.


I really like this elegant, but very large hall from the outside. I’m a big fan of the simplicity and pared back restraint of some of the architecture. Some of the temples are way too busy visually for my taste, but this one has poured all its bling into the inside display and left the outside quietly understated. I can’t find anywhere to sit that is in the shade, but also quiet, away from the throng, so decide to move on. I leave ‘Kannon’ without recording her on my ‘canon’. The best that I can do is take a photo of the tiny image printed in the glossy brochure that you get when you pay to go in. That will have to suffice.


Across the road from here is the Yogen-in Temple. It was built by one of Hideyoshi’s concubines and has a troubled history. It burnt down, almost as soon as it was built. The temple is small and not all that special except for the blood stains on the ceiling that is its’ claim to fame. The reconstructed temple was built from the remains of a castle that was lost in battle and the defeated warrior, took his own life, rather than be captured and live with dishonour. His spilled blood stained the floor boards of the main hall and later, these same floor boards were used to construct the ceiling of the entrance hall of this temple.

I never really got inside and understood ‘bushido’. I tried. back in the 70’s, I read a lot of Japanese literature at the time, Kawabata, Yukio Mishima’s work and others. but it just didn’t ring true to me. Concepts of servitude, obedience and violence, just don’t sit well with me. I prefer self-imposed discipline, frugality and pacifism. I think more can be achieved by growing organic vegetables than staging coups.


Back outside, I like the sloping walkway up to the Yogen-in Temple entrance with its mossy garden. I think that it’s that best part of this temple. Leaving here brings me to the amazing stone retaining wall of the Kyoto National Museum. I turn left here and go down the hill a few hundred metres to find a sweet little knife shop on the left side of the road, just past the intersection. I was here once before, about 6 years ago, coming from the opposite direction. I’m sort of surprised that I can find it and that it is where I thought that it might be. I bought a little kitchen fruit and vegetable paring knife here. The very helpful lady who runs the shop seems to be related to the maker? Not too sure about this. She has little English and I, very limited Japanese. She does indicate to me that all the knives in the shop are ‘te-sukuri’, hand-made and also made in Kyoto. That makes them pretty rare, as most of the knives on sale here are made in near-by Sakai. I love my little paring knife and use it often at home. I try to tell her that I’ve been here before, years ago and bought that particular knife here. Pointing at the one in the display case. She seems to understand and thanks me. I’m looking for an ‘kanna’ utility blade, just like the one that Tatsuya had in his workshop, and allowed me to borrow and use as required. It’s a special thing, for a man to share a very valuable and treasured, sharp-edged tool with a stranger. I really appreciate his thoughtful kindness. I now want one just like it, but I realise from my quick scouting around in the ‘Aritsugu’ family knife shop in the Nishiki market, that they cost up to $200. I didn’t realise that they were quite so highly valued! Such an apparently simple thing, involving what appears to be so little work compared to a kitchen knife, but twice the cost? I now appreciate Tatsuya’s trust in me even more. I decide that I want to be just like Tatsuya san when I grow up!


In this tiny, out-of-the-way cutlery shop, my persistence is rewarded. I find just what I am looking for at a very reasonable price that I can afford. I realise that I should master my desire for owning possessions, but there are a few things in life that are special. Some particular pots, mostly made by others, a few wood working tools, a couple of pieces of clothing that I have spent time re-working, repairing and patching. My beautiful hand-made cello. A hand written letter from a friend. When it is all boiled down, there are so few objects/things that I have in my life that are really of value to me and when I sit and consider them, what I see are some un-remarkable, plain and very ordinary objects. They have no monetary value to speak of. I have created the meaning embedded in them. Any one else would throw them out. They are just so ordinary. Simple, restrained and beautiful. Loaded with the South Pacific-Austronesian concept of ‘mana’. I’ve made them special!

I give in to my base nature and purchase this simple elegant thing, and then re-trace my steps back up to the Museum wall. The stones used to make the wall are about 3 metres across and the 100 or so metres of wall are quite impressive. This was once the site of one of Hideyoshi’s castle strongholds, hence the amazing old stonework. These days it is the site of the museum. I am quite taken by the exhibit of calligraphy in the main downstairs gallery. Suddenly I wish that I could read this. But then again, on reflection I realise that it is better not. It’s most likely a note to the dry cleaner or the milkman and probably something quite mundane. It’s probably better that it retains its beautiful romantic mystery and remain an image of beauty. Too much knowledge spoils romance!


Just along from here on the left, in a back lane is Kawai Kanjiro’s house. It’s always worth a visit. I don’t stop off here every time I come to Kyoto, but I have visited here a few times and I did call in here a month ago on my last visit to Kyoto.  This isn’t a Temple, but it is a sort of shrine for potters with romantic ideals.

Just past Kawai’s house, towards the end of the lane, there is a nice pottery gallery, worth a look. So many of the houses around here are occupied by potters. Some of them have pots out on the sidewalk on shelves with honesty boxes. There are some nice pots among them. I have bought some pots here over the years. They are what I consider to be amazingly cheap, for what they are.

From here it is just a short walk across the Gojo dori street to start the long climb up to the Kiyomizudera Temple. Just 100 m. down the hill from here to the left of the intersection, there is a real  Shinto shrine to potters. There can’t be too many of those in the world, but here is one. I clap once and ring the bell. I leave my little offering. I want the potters of Kyoto to prosper.

I often come here, each time I visit Kyoto. Not because I’m religious, because I’m not. It’s more for the walk past all the pottery shops that line the streets leading up to the Kiyomizu Temple than anything else. I start off up the Gojozaka street, but today, I decide to take the lower right hand road at the first fork. The Chawanzaka. Along here, there are also a lot of pottery shops. I’m heading for one in particular, towards the top of the street on the left side there is a lovely, small shop which always seems to have a great selection of pots in stock. Today there is an amazing display of polychrome porcelain by a young, local, Kyoto girl. recently graduated from Art School. She has created a range of intricately hand painted tiny dishes. I’m amazed at the detail that she has put into their decoration. I buy one for myself and another as a present for The Lovely. They’re tiny, precious and intense. I hope that she will love my choice as much as I do?


After leaving this shop, there is a staircase up the cliff on the left, directly as you leave the shop. It winds up past a pottery ‘experience’ workshop and emerges at the top, in a small courtyard space between another pottery gallery and a small restaurant. I’ve had a couple of light lunches in there, cheap and cheerful. The gallery opposite is owned by the same people that own the shop lower down, “Asahido”, but all the stock is entirely different! just past the shop front, there is a walkway that leads to the upper temple road again. I walk up to the top of the hill.

One of the last shops at the top of the hill, has a nice range of Kiyomizuyaki. I buy a lovely little sake cup by Yano Syozo from the Hekiseki Gama workshop. This shop also turns out to be part of the “Asahido” family group of shops. They seem to own everything that I choose to go into.


I continue on up the hill, but instead of going into the temple this time. I’ve been in there before and I don’t feel the need to go again today. Particularly because it’s packed out, with a huge long queue waiting in the hot sun to get in. Instead, what I do is to take the right hand lane, past the temple entrance and along the side of the temple against the stream of people leaving the temple tour. I’m heading to the rear exit, where I know there are two small cafes that serve chawan of whisked green tea. It’s just what I’m feeling like at this time of the day. The caffeine in the green tea will give me a pick-up to get me going for the rest of the afternoon. I find a quiet place off to the side of the cafe tent awning, with a view down into the valley. The tea is great. It’s a very hot day today, and my tea arrives with ice cubes in it.


After my little rest, I’m refreshed and up for another walk down the temple road to the steps that lead along towards the Gion district. Along this linked system of alleyways, small roads, stairways and paths, I come to the little antique/2nd hand shop, where a few years ago Janine and I found a Kawai Takeichi, press-moulded rectangular bottle. A beautiful thing and included its signed wooden box. It has a special place on Janine’s dresser. On this occasion, I find two tiny treasures, both polychrome porcelain sake cups made in Kutani early last century for $20. Lovely.


From here, it’s down and across to the Kodiji Temple where I sit and try not to think for a while, but maybe its the green tea, or just the excitement of being here? All the sights and aromas. I find it so very stimulating. My mind is racing around with so many ideas, concepts, particularly there are ideas of new pots to be made that will reflect all this cultural input. I’m ready to return home now. I want to incorporate some of this new thinking and porcelain throwing/turning skillset into my practice. All this is going through my mind and won’t stop. I watch myself doing this. The constant cycling of thoughts and images. I just let it roll.

There is music out in the park somewhere and I am drawn away from my meditations to listen. I’m so shallow! I’m a sucker for a bit of live music. I get up and wander slowly out to the park. People are enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. I sit and listen and watch the glow slowly disappearing from the sky. It’ll soon be evening. Birds are circling, swooping and wheeling overhead. Children are crying. It’s been a long hot day out for them and they are tired.


Somehow. I don’t really know how, perhaps it was the green tea? I’m energised and ready to take on the Terramachi shopping street throng, but first I have to navigate the crowds at the Kawabata/shijo dori intersection.

I emerge from the park through the Yasaka shrine gate into the Gion district and across the busy intersection of the Kamo river crossing and up the Pontocho laneway to see and smell all the tiny restaurants located along the narrow passageway.


There is a nice little lacquer shop just 50 metres in along here, with some great lacquer bargains, I look in, but today I’m not tempted. Then along Karamachi dori to the little hidden gallery upstairs above the soft bank phone shop. The ‘NishiKawa CraftShop’. This place has a nice selection of small items, displayed with a particular elegance and restraint.

I reach the Terramachi, covered market street by a side lane and up to the end, crossing the Oike dori and continuing up the open Teramachi street, up to “Gallery West’ or so the sign says, but is actually called ‘Hitamuki’ or ‘Space-Design’ according to the card I’m given. This is a beautiful, small gallery run by people with excellent taste and a discerning eye. I often buy pots here, especially the porcelain work of Kazumi Kinoshita, but also some very fine woodwork. However, today, there is nothing to temp me.

Just a little further along the street, there is a tiny brush shop, where they have some very fine delicate brushes. I buy two for very fine line work. Across the road there is a nice ‘tea’ shop and next door to there is a washi paper shop. It’s evening now and places are starting to close up. So I make my way home by walking across to the Karasuma Dori and then straight back home to my guesthouse. I suddenly feel hungry. I need to make my way home via the supermarket to get some fresh salad and a small piece of fish. A satisfying end to a full day and an end to my time in Japan – for this year.

An enjoyable day out, walking some of the temples and craft shops of Kyoto.

Best wishes from Steve in Kyoto

The Temple Bell

Every morning at dawn, the temple bell rings. It makes its first gong at 6.00am and then about every 35 seconds until ten past. The next strike comes just as the last one has died away. It is a very gentle way to be reminded that the day is about to begin.

Luckily for me, I live some distance from the temple. if I lived right next to the giant bell, I might have a very different opinion. I lay in bed and ponder just where this temple is. There a so many temples and shrines around here. Everywhere in fact. The streets and lanes are crowded with them. I have some idea of the direction of the sound. But sounds are funny things, so influenced by the surrounding buildings and the hill, that I’m not too sure if i’m hearing the sound directly or as it bounces off another building.

Today, I wake just as the dawn in breaking and the new pale light illuminates the shoji screens of my room. It’s 5.30 am. A while before the bell is due to ring this morning. I decide to go out into the street and listen more closely to determine where the sound is coming from.


I’m up, washed and dressed. If I move fast, I will be able to find to source of the bell. It’s not that important, but I’m inquisitive. My instinct is that it will be coming from the higher temple, above the train line, up on the hill. but my ears have been telling me each morning that it is emanating from the opposite direction. I’m never really sure when I hear the first gong, but once I’m awake they enter my consciousness and become real.

I start by heading to where I feel that it has been coming from in the past. I have 15 minutes to find it before the monk starts his morning task. I walk down the street, I pass a gap between two buildings, there is a little lane way. I can see straight away that it leads up to some temple buildings. I walk up the lane as quietly as possible. I don’t want to disturb the Monk in his daily rituals, he might be meditating?


When I get up there, there is no-one to be seen. The temple is beautifully kept. It has a raked gravel garden with some large stones. I still have several minutes before the first sound is due to ring. I take a moment to look around the garden and courtyard where the bell house is situated. We are quite well elevated here, above the buildings in the street. The sound would carry well from here. It’s not as hight as the other temple up on the hill, but high enough.


Only a minute to go and there is no sign of anyone around. Suddenly the sound of a bell sounds out. It isn’t this bell at all. I was completely fooled. I could have sworn that the sounds were coming from the direction of this temple. I head off down the lane and out into the street. It must be the hight temple then.

I head off in that direction, up the street, then up the side street towards the temple. Just then it strikes again. I’m completely wrong! What’s happening?  The sound is coming

from the other end of the street now, back where I just came from. I turn and hurry back with as much dignity as I can muster, as I rush down the street, back past my place and further down the hill towards the sound. I want to get there before the monk or priest finishes his work. I only have 10 minutes max. to find it. Of course, I could always try again tomorrow morning, but I’m up now and on the job.


The sound is definitely coming from here. I walk up the lane and there it is, right in front of me. As I approach, the bell strikes again. Actually, that is wrong. The bell sounds as the log that is suspended on 4 chains swings back and strikes the bell, producing that marvellous resounding gong sound. I can’t see the monk in  underneath the supporting structure, so I walk around the garden wall to


where I can see the bell house most clearly. There is no-one there!  As I watch, the log swings back and strikes the bell again. It is an automated system, run mechanically. I have to say that I’m just a bit shocked and disappointed, for some reason, I was sure that there would be a person here doing some sort of ritual daily devotion.

So now I know, or at least I think that I do, but what do we ever really know? There are two temples and two bells. The first strike seems to come from up on high, then all the subsequent rings are from the lower one.

I’m sufficiently satisfied with this explanation to go home and prepare my breakfast of unsweetened natural yoghurt and fruit. The day has begun. No time to dally. There are porcelain bowls to be turned using my new hi-tech, tungsten carbide tipped kanna turning tools. If I have no problem adopting this brand-new technology for my work to make my life easier, then why shouldn’t a monk do the same?