Portrait in Linen

Barnes & Noble has failed me again.

Sensei KÅ«nane picked up on my quest for facts, and at class today, he brought me an issue of Classical Fighting Arts magazine. This would be the publisher of the Okazaki interview I read last week, so no more ambiguity concerning the reliability of this particular resource.

He pointed out what appears to be an amazing article—Martial Arts Legends: Gichin Funakoshi, by Harry Cook, B. A.. It’s an excerpt from Cook’s book, Shotokan Karate: A Precise History (which–from what I understand–hasn’t been released yet).

Skimming over the first few paragraphs, I noticed bulleted highlights of Funakoshi’s life, many facts of which I’ve already read about in Funakoshi’s autobiography. But I stopped myself after the first two or three, because it almost felt like a spoiler. When I read about Funakoshi’s life, I want to absorb the material first from the man himself, and then read other writers’ interpretations of the same information. I’d like to be able to draw my own conclusions, rather than have my perspective influenced by someone else who has already put in their personal time and research.

So, even though I have the Cook article right here in front of me, I refuse to read it until I’m done with Karate-Dō.

The magazine is on loan from the dōjō, so I won’t keep it; I intend to make copies of the pertinent pages, since Barnes & Noble doesn’t have what I’m looking for. AGAIN.

Masters magazine is another great resource I discovered. I didn’t have time to browse very much, but one of the titles on the front cover mentioned Okazaki. I wish I could’ve taken home both magazines today, but I knew that was a bad idea. I figured I’d just buy it from the bookstore, but…B&N is playing hard to get.

—

I think it’s kinda hilarious that I find myself reading martial arts magazines on my own inspiration. Growing up, there were karate mags stuffed and rolled and crammed and stacked in every nook and cranny of the house. Probably every publication under the sun. A backdrop detail, like wallpaper or doilies or a collection of ceramic country geese.

When he died, I couldn’t give the magazines away, even though there were so many vintage issues containing several articles on Bruce Lee (you’d think some cult follower would want them, simply to have them). I wish I could’ve kept them. I wish I could’ve kept everything, but that would’ve added up to another garage-sized space we didn’t have.

—

Felt so great after class. Spent a lot of time perfecting shuto uke (knife-hand block). Trouble with the left side. Just can’t get the arc of execution smooth enough, haven’t figured out when the hand should begin to rotate, and always forget the placement of the guarding hand. I feel quite spastic when attempting it, over and over again, like my arm has a mind of its own.

I tried to think of the technique as a hula gesture, which seems to come much easier to me, since the movements have an essential flow and often a terminating point. I think that may have helped to envision it that way, but it’s still not right.

And feeling a little stronger today. Arms don’t feel so wobbly, seems like the thighs are getting used to the demands.

When I glimpse myself in the mirror in class, all I see is a white cotton bundle of awkwardness. I see no sharpness or beauty in execution at all. I know what I’m supposed to look like, but what I see doesn’t even come close.

I wish I could get an objective view of how I look. I remember recording myself performing our hula kahiko (“ancient” style hula dance). That was humiliating. I could see just how choppy and stiff I truly was. But after I got over the initial repulse of my mistakes, I was able to take notes and focus on exactly what it was I needed to change.

Maybe, when I gather some courage, I’ll record a session of techniques and perhaps the first kata. That ought to let me in on a whole lotta areas that need attention.