{"id":9558,"date":"2013-12-10T01:20:55","date_gmt":"2013-12-10T01:20:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/antaiji.org\/?page_id=9558"},"modified":"2013-12-10T01:20:55","modified_gmt":"2013-12-10T01:20:55","slug":"english-stefanie","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/history\/yearbooks\/yearbook-2013\/english-stefanie\/","title":{"rendered":"Stefanie"},"content":{"rendered":"

No title<\/h2>\n

Stefanie<\/h4>\n
\nAside from very few warm and sunny autumn days, november turned out to be rainy. I hear the pattern against the window, while I am kneeling on the tatami in front of a very low wooden desk. Three layers of clothes keep hardly warm and I am looking forward to a hot miso soup.<\/p>\n

Today I worked in the area in front of our living quarters. A gold fish pond, some black wooden slats that form a deck and a wide space with small trees, flowers and bushes. All wildly growing.<\/p>\n

I started taking care by cutting broken or dead branches, selecting interesting from less interesting plants, shaping them and taking out weeds. While I was cleaning the ground from freshly cut weeds, my tool started scratching on something. And just in front of the hojo, digging more carefully, I discovered a stone path.<\/p>\n

Completely buried by gras and moos, this blue stone path was once worked carefully. Discovering bit by bit I felt grateful that there had been a person, maybe like me, taking care about the surrounding.<\/p>\n

My hands in the soil, some raindrops, some wind. I like fresh air and working by myself. <\/p>\n

Somewhere between the pine tree and the butterfly bush the path ended. I continued. Creating three generously stretched steps, slightly slanted, lightly curving, like water that seeks his way running down the hill.<\/p>\n

It is not so easy to create a path out of randomly lying around stones. Some fit easily in size and shape, others are just impossible to integrate. Sometimes I got lucky with a whole series of stones and advanced quickly and than for an hour I was just turning stones in my hand. And sometimes I had to take a step backward, to move forward. <\/p>\n

The kaishaku. Finally miso soup. My way of life? Maybe like creating a stone path.
\n<\/tt><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

No title Stefanie Aside from very few warm and sunny autumn days, november turned out to be rainy. I hear the pattern against the window, while I am kneeling on the tatami in front of a very low wooden desk. Three layers of clothes keep hardly warm and I am looking forward to a hot miso soup. Today I worked in the area in front of our living quarters. A gold fish pond, some black wooden slats that form a deck and a wide space with small trees, flowers and bushes. All wildly growing. I started taking care by cutting broken or dead branches, selecting interesting from less interesting plants, shaping them and taking out weeds. While I was cleaning the ground from freshly cut weeds, my tool started scratching on something. And just in front of the hojo, digging more carefully, I discovered a stone path. Completely buried by gras and moos, this blue stone path was once worked carefully. Discovering bit by bit I felt grateful that there had been a person, maybe like me, taking care about the surrounding. My hands in the soil, some raindrops, some wind. I like fresh air and working by myself. Somewhere between the pine tree and the butterfly bush the path ended. I continued. Creating three generously stretched steps, slightly slanted, lightly curving, like water that seeks his way running down the hill. It is not so easy to create a path out of randomly lying around stones. Some fit easily in size and shape, others are just impossible to integrate. Sometimes I got lucky with a whole series of stones and advanced quickly and than for an hour I was just turning stones in my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":8725,"menu_order":6,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"side-navigation.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-9558","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/9558","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9558"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/9558\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9559,"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/9558\/revisions\/9559"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8725"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/antaiji.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9558"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}