TESSEN

Someone (not me) was practicing Tessen-jutsu (art of the iron (war) fan) in the backyard dojo. So I had to try the fans, too.

TIGER CATCHES ITS PREY

Qigong in the backyard dojo after a workout in the karate dojo. Tiger Catches Its Prey. Yi Jin Jing.

TSUKENSHITAHAKU NO SAI

Tsukenshitahaku no Sai. Kobudo in the backyard dojo. Dusk.

SHOHATTO

Shohatto. Backyard dojo. Dusk.

MOSSBRAIN

In addition to Giant Hand, this weekend also saw the creation of Mossbrain.

The Nephew and The Niece were placing moss into my ears. That turned me into a zombie named Mossbrain. They didn't know that could happen, but it did. They were chased. There was some screaming.

Today, Mossbrain came to life on a paper doll art card that will be sent to The Niece. Once the main Mossbrain art card was completed, I realized that accessories were also needed. Two pairs of glasses were created, one of which is translucent. Two pairs of gloves were cut out. The gloves will also be partners to Tiny Hand, which was Giant Hand's partner-opposite. (Tiny Hand already went home with The Niece.)

GIANT HAND

We celebrated the Independence Day weekend with family, food, games (kubb and cornhole), and just hanging out in the back yard with everyone. Then Giant Hand arrived.

The Nephew was talking about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and their weapons, so I went into the house and grabbed a few weapons for him to see and try out—sai, wooden sword, kali sticks. When he and I were "battling" with the kali sticks. There was a self-inflicted minor injury to his hand, followed by tears. 

I asked The Nephew if he needed a replacement hand. He insisted that he didn't, but I was already on my way to the physical Troy's Work Table for cardboard, scissors, art marker, and masking tape. Giant Hand emerged.

The Nephew wouldn't wear it, so I did. It was connected to my arm by a masking tape "watch."



Giant Hand enjoyed petting the dogs.



Giant Hand was even worn by others and was able to warm up at the fire pit later in the evening.

JAPANESE DEATH POEMS

Poking around at a couple of used bookstores today, The Child pointed out Japanese Death Poems: Written by Zen Monks and Haiku Poets on the Verge of Death to me. It's a book that I've given over the years to a few of my favorite people, but I secretly always wanted my own copy. I missed it while perusing so when The Child turned my attention to it I was elated.

(It's also a perfect fit for my current SWORD/NO SWORD work-in-progress poetry project.)

TACOMA DOG and TWT

Today was a day of beautiful Pacific Northwest summer weather. It was also a perfect Troy's Work Table Day, which included all three (four) TWT elements—books, art, and beer (and wandering).

The Child and I stopped by Hi-Voltage Records because the band Working Men's Club was recommended to me and somehow I missed their debut album. I picked up a copy of 2020's Working Men's Club.

Then we stopped by The Red Hot for hot dogs to go. We learned that supply chain issues have left TRH without any spicy brown mustard for The Child's "The Red Hot" dog and without Mexican Coke so we ended up with cans of RC Cola.



We stopped by Tacoma's Wright Park to enjoy our lunch. My Tacoma Dog was perfect.

We wandered into the W.W. Seymour Botanical Conservatory before heading off to browse at both King's Books and Tacoma Book Center. 

I picked up a couple of books. Then it was off to home for a dinner of homemade tacos and beer, followed by the final three episodes of season three of Umbrella Academy.

CHERRIES

Last year, we planted two cherry trees to replace dying hazelnut trees, the latter of which are at the end of their life cycle. We planted a Bing Cherry tree for my birthday and a Rainier Cherry tree for our anniversary.

The 2022 harvest from our two "toddler" cherry trees consisted of one Bing and seven Rainiers.

Each tree is just over one year old, so I'm surprised we even had this many.

The Rainiers are especially delicious. (I'm ready for next year's crop!)

MARTIAL ARTS BIRTHDAY!

Tonight was both a frustrating and fruitful night in the dojo. Therefore, it seems as good a time as any to pause and reflect upon my martial arts journey, especially since this Saturday (July 2) is the one-year anniversary of when I started Shotokan karate at the Karate Edge. (My martial arts birthday!)

Over the past year I have tested for three belt ranks: from white to yellow, from yellow to orange, and from orange to purple. Plus, I have half of the eight stripes I need to test for my next (green) belt.

For every challenge that arises, there is also an accompanying reward, if I only pause to notice it.

I still struggle to get into the proper back stance without thinking about it. When someone reminds me to get into a deeper stance and to shift my weight onto my back foot, I feel how I should be standing. And I appreciate their informing me of the necessary corrections.

While I strive for an acceptable shuto uke / knife-hand block most of the time, occasionally I know that I can perform it if I am patient and precise. (And it is noticeably improved from months ago.)

I labor through body mechanics while I appreciate the pattern that stitches them together.

I can land the occasional point in kumite (sparring) when that notion once seemed foreign and fleeting and somewhere I would never arrive.

I am healthier and more physically fit than the Troy of a year ago. I am more disciplined. I am more flexible. I train on a regular basis in both karate and qigong.

And, perhaps most surprisingly to me, I am part of a “gym” and part of a community. Both of which I must work at a bit to be completely present at and present to. (And that’s okay.)

I am also part of a lineage of martial artists, both here and now and there and then. I get to train with great people. I am participating in lifelong learning, of which I am (and have always been) a strong proponent.

So, tonight, when I was frustrated with feeling “stuck,” I was reminded by others around me of who I am and what I achieved this very night. (Partly just by being present.) I was supported. I was held accountable. I was gently corrected. I was given encouragement. I was given homework.

I was also able to laugh at myself. I peered into my belt box when I arrived home and was reminded that even though I am no longer a white belt, I need to always keep the mindset of a white belt. Everything needs to be new and surprising and wonderful and scary and a bit of a challenge. Because I have moved and grown and changed. I can see what I’ve accomplished when I look at my belts and when I look in the mirror. That is where I see the ripening fruit.