I look at a bow, and I look at a gun. I see only beauty in the bow, and nothing but cold steel in the gun. I take the bow, but I don’t know why. I know there’s a reason for this, something far across the mist, but I don’t know what it is. For… Continue reading I Don’t Know What Kyudo Means
The pressure of expectant eyes, the power of an upward draft. In this downward spiral of a falling leaf, is the beauty of our short passage. Obstructing branches are not meant to obstruct, but to inspire the path of the fallen. Stuck in time are rocks and branches, blessed are the dying leaves. In time… Continue reading The Living Body
Just one thing. That’s what kyudo is trying to teach us. That’s why we do all the annoying things we are told to do. Sit in kiza when we take off and put on our glove. Put down our bow when we grab our arrows. Only shoot two arrows at a time. But goddamn I… Continue reading Just One
No need to fear death, because it doesn’t you.