We had a pretty good turnout of people, and everyone was really in to yokai and Japanese culture, asking lots of questions. That was awesome! It’s great to have a chance to interact with people who share a passion with you.

I read a few traditional stories, Mujina and Yuki-Onna by Lafcadio Hearn, and a few that I translated myself; Yaobikuni, a kappa legend from Gifu, the The Three Magic Fudas, and the Grave of the Rokurokubi.

The library asked me to come back again in the fall, and I’m looking forward to doing so. No dates have been set, but I’ll keep everyone posted here and on social media for the next yokai story hour!

I have some new prints for sale at Sakura Sunday, as you can see, and I finally got around to putting them up on my Etsy store. Here’s what they look like:

It was a great day, and again thanks to everyone who came out! I’m looking forward to seeing you again next year!

If you’ve been paying attention to my Facebook page, you’ve probably noticed that for a while I was getting 1 painting done per week, until March. Well, that’s because I’ve been wrestling with this painting all month long, and finally I am happy with the results. The level of tiny detail is pretty intense in this one, and it looks great full-size on paper.

I’ll be selling this print and some others at Sakura Sunday (April 14 @ the Fairmount Park Horticulture Center). Hope to see you there!

Spring View of Shofuso (松風荘庭園の春景色)

Some time back, I mentioned how I was rebooting my “100 Famous Views of Philadelphia” series with a view of doing all 100 prints and putting them into a large, full-color book like I did with Night Parade last year (Oh yeah! And it’s just 1 year now that Night Parade has been out too!). Well, I have been working night and day on the new images, trying to get one done about each week.

If you’ve been following me on Facebook/Twitter/Google+ then you know that I haven’t been totally silent; only silent on my blog. And you’ve probably seen the images of the finished pieces as I’ve been getting them done. And you’ve probably heard me apologize that I don’t have prints available yet. Well that changes today!

I just created a bunch of prints of the first four images in the new 100 Famous Views of Philadelphia series! Check them out:

These paintings are all now available on my Etsy store. Prints are signed and matted, as always, and they come in 2 different sizes.

I hope you enjoy them, and stay tuned for more new views of Philadelphia coming soon!

Getting one for 30% off!

That’s right, because I love Black Friday so much, you can get 30% off of any yokai print from my Etsy store, osarusan.etsy.com! This offer is only for this week, so don’t delay!

All you have to do is enter to coupon code BLACKFRIDAY when you check out at Etsy.

A few years back, I worked on a project I called “One Hundred Famous Views of Philadelphia.” It was essentially a parody project, taking images from Hiroshige’s One Hundred Famous View of Edo (and a few other artists’ works) and re-imagining them in Philadelphia. It was a lot of fun, and I got a lot of good feedback from it, but when I moved to Japan for obvious reasons it became harder to paint scenes of Philadelphia. As my wife and I will now be spending a few years in Philadelphia, it’s a great opportunity to dive back into this project and try to actually paint all one hundred views.

I posted a few new sketches to my Facebook page over the summer, and you may have seen them if you are following me there. I just completed the first new painting in the series, which you can see here:

シティーホールの夕暮れ

If the border looks a little weird, that’s because it’s 8 different scans layered into one image, and while I blended the overlapping parts of the image I didn’t bother blending the white border. The piece is about 20×30 inches, done in watercolor, watercolor pencils, and ink. Anyone who has done watercolor will know how easy it is to mess everything up with a single bump. I was nervous doing such a big watercolor the entire time, but never as much as I was doing the lettering on the title… but I’m pleased with how it turned out.

I won’t be working at such a large scale for the rest of these images I think… while it’s nice for the detail, it’s not good for my nerves when I have to be careful not to touch or smudge or ruin anything after so many hours of work. I’m going to be working on these paintings for a while now, and hopefully I’ll be able to launch a Kickstarter this spring to print and publish a book with a ton of Philadelphia ukiyo-e prints in it!

You can order beautiful matted prints of these yokai from my Etsy store.

Also, my illustrated yokai guide, The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, is available on Amazon.com in paperback and Kindle formats.

Komainu	Tatsu	Shiisaa	Hyakume
Inugami	Nue	Koromodako	Hitodama
Kejōrō	Aobōzu	Nureonago	Imori
Bakeneko	Nurikabe	Kitsune-bi	Yosuzume
Ittanmomen, Kosodenote, Jatai	Okuriinu	Tenjō-kudari	Hakutaku
Kanashibari	Reiki	Shuten-dōji	Kurozuka
Oni	Ibaraki-dōji	Sagari	Yūrei
Oitekebori	Sazae-oni	Momiji

Oh! And here are the answers to the Hyakki Yagyō poster contest, in case you were wondering:

1. Nurarihyon 2. Otoroshi 3. Nozuchi 4. Neko-mata 5. Yamabiko 6. Kitsune 7. Kitsune-bi 8. Kappa 9. Rokuro-kubi 10. Bake-zōri 11. Kijo 12. Karakasa-kozō 13. Hyōsube 14. Hyakume 15. Hitotsu-me-nyūdō 16. Ko-tengu 17. Jorô-gumo 18. Azuki-arai 19. Kuchi-sake-onna 20. Hitotsu-me-kozō 21. Taka-onna 22. Nure-onna

Whew! We made it! Another year of A-Yokai-A-Day. Today’s entry marks the final one for this year’s yokai series, but before that, on to the results of the Hyakki Yagyō poster contest:

I was really impressed by the results of the contest! Naming all of those yokai took a lot of work and research, and a lot of people got them all correct! I wrote down all of the names with the correct answers and picked one at random, and the lucky winner, chosen by whatever yokai controls luck and fate, was Neal from Pennsylvania! Congratulations!

Now, on to today’s yokai. This was a request from a fan at my gallery show in Fukui this August. I saved this one for last because a) it was one of the most difficult to find information to translate, and b) the opportunity for beautiful fall colors deserved to wait until late October, when the reds and yellows are at their peak. Plus, it has a little bit of Halloween flavor to it, with the demon of the story disguising herself as a beautiful princess. Enjoy!

The Witch of Togakushi Mountain (Momiji)

Momijigari (紅葉狩)

This story takes place long long ago, in what is now Nagano prefecture, during fall. It was the season of fall-leaf-viewing, when groups of people would gather in the mountains for festivals and parties under the falling red, orange, and gold leaves.

During this time, a samurai named Taira no Koremochi was charged by a local Hachiman shrine with hunting oni. His hunt had taken him to Togakushi mountain, where a particularly nasty kijo (a female oni) was said to live.

Koremochi and his retainers climbed the beautiful mountain, and they came upon a small aristocratic leaf-viewing party. Koremochi sent one of his retainer ahead to investigate who was having the party. The retainer approached, asking about the party, and was told that a noble princess was hosting it; however the ladies in waiting would not tell him the princess’ name. Just as Koremochi and his retainers decided to continue on their mission, a lady-in-waiting approached and told them that her mistress had heard of Koremochi, and she wanted to invite them to her party. Koremochi was unable to be rude to such a princess, so he and his companions agreed.

At the party, the warriors were introduced to Princess Sarashina, an extremely beautiful young woman. They all sat and enjoyed drinking sake, watching the leaves, and dancing. Eventually, Koremochi asked the princess if she would dance for him, and she did. Soon the drunk men became sleepy and dozed off under the beautiful trees.

As he slept, Koremochi dreamed of Hachiman and his mission. The god told him that Princess Sarashina was actually the kijo Momiji in disguise, and that he must kill her with the holy katana, Kogarasumaru (“Little Crow”). When Koremochi woke up, the sword he dreamed of was in his hand — a gift from the god — and he knew that what he dreamed was real. He ran after the women, and all of a sudden a huge storm broke out. Fire and wind lit up the mountain. Suddenly a ten foot tall kijo with horns made of burning trees appeared, and an intense battle between the samurai and the demoness took place. In the end, thanks to his magical sword, Koremochi was successful, and slew the Witch of Togakushi Mountain.

The full tale of Princess Sarashina/Momiji is much longer than that, but this version of her story is famous for being told in Japanese theater. Momijigari (“Hunting Momiji”) first appeared hundreds of years ago, during the Muromachi period, as a noh play. During the Meiji period it was remade as a kabuki play. The plays are noted for both the beautiful costumes featuring demon masks, as well as the actor’s transformation in character from the beautiful princess into the violent demon. The play was put to film in 1899, becoming the first narrative filmed in Japan. It was designated an Important Culture Property in 2009.

Do you like Japanese ghosts? Are you a fan of strange Japanese horror? Then get my book, The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons from Amazon.com today!

And don’t forget — today is your final chance to submit your answers for the Hyakki Yagyō poster contest! I’ll announce the winner late tomorrow night, when I post the final yokai.

Sazae-oni

Sazae-oni

Sazae-oni are born a few different ways; once is when an ordinary sea snail turns 30 years old. According to ancient Chinese lore, animals transform into different animals (sparrows become clams, rats become quails), and so why not snails becoming oni, right? Another way is if a lustful young woman is thrown into the sea, she will transform into a sea snail, and then if she happens to live a very long time she will transform into a sazae-oni as well. These monsters appear on moonlit nights, dancing on the surface of the sea like exotic dancers or dragons.

According to a legend from the Bōsō penninsula (Chiba prefecture), sazae-oni often travel disguised as lone, wandering women who stop at inns to eat the innkeepers.

Buy now from Etsy!

In the Kii penninsula (Wakayama and Mie prefectures), one legend tells of a band of pirates who spotted a woman drowning in the water one night. They rescued her (not out of the goodness in their hearts, mind you, but out of the badness in their pants…), and that night every pirate on the ship had their way with her. Unfortunately for the pirates, she was actually a transformed sazae-oni, and one by one she bit off the testicles of every pirate on the boat. By the end of the night she had all of their testicles, and the desperate pirates traded away all of their pirates’ gold to the sazae-oni to buy their balls backs. Yoho!

Are you interested in yokai? Can’t get enough of strange Japanese culture? Then you should check out my book, The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, on Amazon.com and learn the story behind over one hundred of these bizarre monsters!

Oitekebori

Oiteke-bori (置行堀)

This one’s name is hard to translate eloquently, but it means “the leave-it-and-get-out-of-here canal.” It comes from Honjo, a neighborhood in Sumida ward, Tokyo.

Long ago, Honjo was full of canals and waterways, and those canals were teaming with fish. It was common for people to make their living catching and selling fish caught in the moat system.

One night, two fishermen were fishing in a particular spot in Honjo at sunset. They noticed that they were catching many more fish than usual, and so they fished and fished, filling their baskets to the brim. After some time, when they could hold no more fish, they happily packed up their tackle and prepared to carry their large catches home. Just as they were about to leave, they heard an eerie, terrible voice come up from the canal: “Oiteke (leave it and get out of here)!”

What happens next depends on who is telling the story… some say that both fishermen dropped their baskets and fled, and when they returned later that night, both baskets were empty. Others say that they fled home with their baskets, but when they got home and looked inside, there wasn’t even a single fish in the baskets. But the most chilling version goes like this:

Both fisherman turned and fled, one of the, dropping his basket and the other taking his with him. The fisherman who dropped his basket ran all the way back to his house and bolted the door. The fisherman who fled with his basket ran didn’t get far — a ghostly hand rose up out of the canal and dragged him into the water, basket and all. He was never seen again.

Signed prints available here!

Finally, in some versions, the second fisherman makes it home, but later that night he wakes up with kanashibari, and lies helpless as a ghostly shape drags him out of his bed and into the canal, never be to be seen again.

So what exactly is oiteke-bori? Nobody really knows… However, by far the most common explanation is that a kappa was responsible, hungry and too lazy to fish himself. Others blame a tricky tanuki. Still other explanations exist, covering everything from a yūrei, a kawauso, a mujina, and even a suppon (a Chinese soft-shelled turtle turned yokai).

Are you interested in yokai? Can’t get enough of strange Japanese culture? Then you should check out my book, The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, on Amazon.com and learn the story behind over one hundred of these bizarre monsters!