12 August 2026
Firmly in the floating world after finding a robust Hokusai monograph at Edith's. These are the works that have been with me since:
Girls at their Toilette, from the series Seven Stylish Foibles (late 1790s) Mountain Tea-house, album-plate from Mists of Sandara (1798) Pheasant in Autumn from Album from Life (c. 1814)
Incoming waves/Receding waves, from Hokusai manga (1815) *One of the best artworks I've ever seen...
Turtles in Sayama Pond, from Hokusai manga (1817) Sunset over Ryogoku Bridge from Thirty-six Views of Mt Fuji (early 1830s) Mt Fuji from Kajikazawa, from Thirty-six Views of Mt Fuiji (early 1830s) The Horse-washing Falls, from The Waterfalls (c. 1833) Suspension-bridge between Hida and Etchu, from The Bridges (c. 1834) Tiger in the Snow (1849)
It was really my first time swimming in the totality of his work, and the first thing that comes to mind as it settles in my head is rhythm. Rhythms of nature; human inclusive. Devotion to its majestic indifference. Waves, waterfalls, hair, fabric folds, wood grain, turtle shell patterns, bird feathers, shifting clouds, and, of course, geologic formations. His stillness is singular, frozen solid yet flowing. I thought often of Turner's Snow Storm (1842), and it's lovely to think about both of them working at the same time—their timelines overlapped almost completely.
I sent Tiger in the Snow to my dad, and he responded with recently captured images from the Inouye solar telescope that show the surface of the sun in more detail than ever seen before. A network of burnt-golden vortices cycling and spiraling. He was right—it looks just like the pattern of the tiger's fur. I don't find this coincidental; Hokusai's subjects are his own dilating device toward an inner actuality that magnified something elemental. Which I am now noticing blips of in the modular makeup of everything moving.