The Eternal Field - Entrusting Memories to the Field | ”The more you try to forget, the more it stays with you. When you need to let go of something, it is engraved in your heart.”—From Wong Kar-wai's "Ashes of Time”

I simply don’t remember about the past or never really thought about remembering the past. I have never been one to hold on to the past, but after my mother's death, I found myself troubled by memories of her. What I remember about my mother is mostly from the time I cared for her. Changes in her suffering from a dementia, unexpected events I have faced, and the way I dealt with her had become burdensome memories. When she passed away, I intended to live carrying these memories and complex emotions.

However, the memories never faded, and now she is an unwavering presence, keeps reminding me of them. I began to wish I could forget. At the same time, I was also tormented by feeling guilty for wanting to forget the memories of her. Then, I remembered a quote from a Wong Kar-wai movie and decided to re-examine these memories. I sorted through my mother's keepsakes and wrote down those memories. As I continued this process, I often found myself contemplating her life. This process made me want to let go of them and entrust them under the ground. I chose the field for the safekeeping – a place I loved, where my mother and I often walked, a place that felt like it could accept and purify all.

I push my way into the field, dreaming of a journey to mourn and entrust my memories. http://michikochiyoda.com

I am ready to dream a dream with her | My dear Midori-San, How have you been there since we last communicated? I am still here and would like to ask you to wait for me for a while.

I want to reiterate how precious the moments I had with you are to me, as I look back over the five years we spent together while creating our works. I remember you said ‘thank you’ at times, but I am wondering how many times I said it to you, so I am writing you this letter.

I love your ‘SOMEBANA’ works, which are fabricated from your sensitive mind and fingers. It was five years ago, in the winter of 2015, when you asked me to join you in your work based on the theme of Prayer, I was absolutely thrilled. At the same time, however, I was shocked and lost for words upon your confession of having stage-3 cancer. “God knows my way to go from now on.” You simply added the phrase ---- as if you were trying to ease my silence. You always seemed to be imperturbably calm to me, and I assumed it was because you held certain prayers inside. I remember, I once asked what prayer meant to you. Your answer was “Prayer means dialogue with God, and my flowers embody it.” I am not sure I could understand it instantly, but I was mysteriously moved on the spot.

I visited Nagatsuka Monastery in Hiroshima, which you introduced me to, and at that time, my purpose was to try to find and understand the meaning of prayer for me. I spent days there, in a calm and silent environment surrounded by forest. I tried to speak to myself, and seek my innermost essence. I think I could have experienced moments of being filled with gratitude, and I sometimes felt unstable arrogant emotions. I think that there, I discovered that prayer for me just meant my wishes. I knew I could do nothing for her fate coming to an end. I have to admit, I was always frustrated that I had no power to change it and, as a result, I felt a tightness in my chest. One thing--just one thing--I could make up my mind there was that I would keep creating works with you, and keep dreaming a dream in which we share our joy in the accomplishment of our collaborations down the road. This finally made me feel like I was reaching prayer.

The monastery had many windows, and I stared at the holy, transparent streams of light they emitted, timelessly. Your delight with the title of our work that I sent you never leaves my memory, and shortly returned, saying, ‘Souls never die.’ I hope you are also looking forward to meeting me, and just in case, I would like to make extra sure to let you know that you have to be prepared for my many questions that go along with my many thanks from the bottom of my heart. Sincerely, Michiko www.michikochiyoda.com