A Hush Among the Cedars

Aug 12

Waiting snowblind
Among these drifts
Scanning the proud, tall cedars for a breakaway shadow
Inhaling frosted air for a familiar note
Ears perked high for a cracking branch, a muffled footfall
Abiding in this intractable whiteness
Until they return to me

Japanese mansion life (where “mansion” = typical apartment building) is not amenable to keeping a pet. Particularly not the kind of pet that likes to jump and rollick. Or frolic. Or do much more than bounce gently against the transparent walls of a glass box.

As such, it’s been a long while since I’ve had a canine companion. I have been dog-less. Also cat-less, ferret-less, pot belly pig-less, and goat-less. Even guppy-less. All have their assorted merits (I guess…) but for the intent of this essay, we will concentrate on puppies.

If dogs are known for anything, if they can stake claim to one metaphorical simile, it is loyalty.

Dog=loyal

Whether we deserve it or not

There are countless stories of dogs finding their way home again after being lost or abandoned in the wilderness. Of pining away at the door until their people come back. This loyalty is adoring, blind, and unconditional. It is their prime directive.

Recall the story of Hachikō - I wish that I had when I was sketching for this piece, because I might have zeroed in on the final design a whole lot more quickly. Hachikō was an Akita who, every day for 9 years, would wait outside Shibuya Station for the return of his deceased human.

My Favorite Dogs Have All Been Strays.

Shortly after my family had moved to our small farm - I must have been 7 or 8 - a mid-sized German Shepherd mix started showing up at our bus stop (which also doubled as the mouth of our driveway) in the morning, as we left for school. Soon, he was there when we came home. We were at the exact right age that we weren’t scared of random animals popping in, and he was friendly. Probably recently abandoned in the nearby state park. After a week, it was mutually decided that he would stay. And he did, until he passed away while I was away at university.

A Question of Breeding

Of all the Eto pieces I’ve made, this one posed a most unique challenge. I don’t have any personal attachments to sheep, snakes, or pigs, so choosing a breed and a pose was fairly simple (even if narrowing down the visual metaphors was not).

But dogs…my pets have been mostly mixed breeds, but I’ve gotten to know bulldogs and chihuahuas, dobermans (dobermen?) and Great Danes. Each breed, each individual animal projects a unique personality, each which would dictate the meaning of the art. The only other animal that comes close (for me) is the horse.

My wife was pushing for the Tosa Inu. You couldn’t ask for more character in an animal’s face.

I strongly considered komainu, the lion-dogs that prowl outside of shrines, one with mouth agape, one with lips shut tight.

I generally like a “sharper” dog. More wolfish. I fell in love with the Shikoku Inu, which is fitting seeing as Shikoku is where my Japanese experience began.

Okay, technically Shikoku wouldn’t get this kind of winter. Modern day Shikoku rarely gets snow at all. I claim artistic license. Think of it as emotional snow. A blizzard of the soul.

I had decided on the winter setting early on. I’d long wanted to do a predominantly white, cool color piece. This was the perfect chance.

I’m planning to work more with the steamy spirit swirls (I’ve got to think of a cooler, more sophisticated nomenclature) of the tail. When I began, I had a vague idea of how I wanted to build it, and Macgyvered the rest as I went along. The result; well, it made me happy.

My only regret is that I didn’t think to take more detail photographs before sending this to the gallery, where it sold immediately. Live and learn. Again.