Buddha in my backpack
Apr. 3rd, 2011 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdymonkeyI was sufficiently tired last night to go to bed at a decent hour, so I was up fairly early this morning. It being the first Sunday of the month and a nice day, what better way to spend the morning than by biking out to the air strip for the Antiques By The Bay flea market? The traffic was less hairy on Main Street going in today than in February, perhaps because the SF Chronicle has not had an article about how some interior designer I've never heard of and don't care about goes flea marketing for The Most Awesome Stuff Evar their Lifestyle section this week. It was, however, a beautiful day and there was a queue of people who had bought The Cheap Tickets and were willing to wait to get in at 9 AM instead of walking in earlier for $10. As said queue makes getting to the bike racks Extra Special, I had to get off and walk My Most Awesome Bike Evar through the line. At least I was early enough that I could use the Kryptonite U-lock and secure Mimi to the end of the somewhat old fashioned rack itself, rather than lamely cabling her up through a front or rear wheel.
I cannot profess to be a Buddhist. (Then again, I don't really profess to be anything much, though I freely admit my approach to dealing with the universe is heavily flavored by Judeo Christian influences because that's what I grew up with.) However, my Japanese alter ego would have been and I have been thinking that it would be nice to reflect that as part of my portrayal. With that in mind, I've had my eye out for some time for a small image of Buddha, or Kannon (Kwan Yin), or the even more difficult to locate Jizo. Buddhas abound in home decor thanks to the misunderstood application of the concept of feng shui, but most of them tend to be pretty hideous. A decent looking Buddha or Kannon from a gift shop in Japantown will be rather expensive. And of course at the flea market, it depends entirely who one is dealing with and what they've got.
Amazingly, I found The One about ten minutes after I walked in the gate. The woman was still hanging up vintage Hawaiian shirts. She had some lacquer boxes, a couple of dolls, a fair bit of Hawaiian tiki sorts of things. I liked him. I liked the almost Romanesque treatment of his robes. Made in China, had a San Francisco label on the base, probably not terribly old. $10. "Do you meditate?" she said. "Not exactly," I said, and explained it was more a study thing and I was interested in historical Japan. Next thing I know she's asking me if I've met Liza Dalby. No, but I did email her once about Kimono: Fashioning Culture and got a very nice email back about my web page (then a mere fledgling with only an article or two in it, O My Readers). I gave her my web addy and email and, carefully wrapped in brown paper, The Enlightened One went into my backpack.
I admired some other pieces along my way, most of which were too expensive for one reason or another. Yes, I saw things that would have been beautiful to have, but reality wins. I did pick up a great little Japanese tenugui (cotton towel) for $5 from the lady I sometimes get dance fans from. I couldn't help it - I squeed a little, but it's OK to do that at her booth because her prices are generally pretty reasonable. She squeed back - "isn't that darling, it should be hanging in someone's kitchen," "Yeah, mine, what do you want for it?" and so forth.
Cut out the long way off the base down nearer the USS Hornet so I wouldn't have to attempt a left turn with a bunch of lunchward bound antiquers behind me. Not really a hardship except for the antique state of some of the pavement on the base, but certainly a nice enough day for a ride. It spit me out on Pacific instead of Main Street, so I took Lincoln Avenue most of the way back. I tripped the radar on the first speed limit sign at a respectable 10 MPH, then remembered there's a second one a little further along and deliberately speeded up just to see what would happen and watched gleefully, pedaling like a maniac, as the numbers flashed "13," 14" and "15" as I passed. No, I can't sustain 15 mph for any great distance, but still, it amused me.
Hmmm, now, to contemplate lunch....
I cannot profess to be a Buddhist. (Then again, I don't really profess to be anything much, though I freely admit my approach to dealing with the universe is heavily flavored by Judeo Christian influences because that's what I grew up with.) However, my Japanese alter ego would have been and I have been thinking that it would be nice to reflect that as part of my portrayal. With that in mind, I've had my eye out for some time for a small image of Buddha, or Kannon (Kwan Yin), or the even more difficult to locate Jizo. Buddhas abound in home decor thanks to the misunderstood application of the concept of feng shui, but most of them tend to be pretty hideous. A decent looking Buddha or Kannon from a gift shop in Japantown will be rather expensive. And of course at the flea market, it depends entirely who one is dealing with and what they've got.
Amazingly, I found The One about ten minutes after I walked in the gate. The woman was still hanging up vintage Hawaiian shirts. She had some lacquer boxes, a couple of dolls, a fair bit of Hawaiian tiki sorts of things. I liked him. I liked the almost Romanesque treatment of his robes. Made in China, had a San Francisco label on the base, probably not terribly old. $10. "Do you meditate?" she said. "Not exactly," I said, and explained it was more a study thing and I was interested in historical Japan. Next thing I know she's asking me if I've met Liza Dalby. No, but I did email her once about Kimono: Fashioning Culture and got a very nice email back about my web page (then a mere fledgling with only an article or two in it, O My Readers). I gave her my web addy and email and, carefully wrapped in brown paper, The Enlightened One went into my backpack.
I admired some other pieces along my way, most of which were too expensive for one reason or another. Yes, I saw things that would have been beautiful to have, but reality wins. I did pick up a great little Japanese tenugui (cotton towel) for $5 from the lady I sometimes get dance fans from. I couldn't help it - I squeed a little, but it's OK to do that at her booth because her prices are generally pretty reasonable. She squeed back - "isn't that darling, it should be hanging in someone's kitchen," "Yeah, mine, what do you want for it?" and so forth.
Cut out the long way off the base down nearer the USS Hornet so I wouldn't have to attempt a left turn with a bunch of lunchward bound antiquers behind me. Not really a hardship except for the antique state of some of the pavement on the base, but certainly a nice enough day for a ride. It spit me out on Pacific instead of Main Street, so I took Lincoln Avenue most of the way back. I tripped the radar on the first speed limit sign at a respectable 10 MPH, then remembered there's a second one a little further along and deliberately speeded up just to see what would happen and watched gleefully, pedaling like a maniac, as the numbers flashed "13," 14" and "15" as I passed. No, I can't sustain 15 mph for any great distance, but still, it amused me.
Hmmm, now, to contemplate lunch....
