Below are close ups of six patterns from the Notebook  ​

This hanging made from old fabric is stitched with diamond blue wave (hishi seigaiha), which creates the impression of waters more turbulent than the round blue wave pattern. ​

Of the 29 patterns in the Hida Notebook, I managed to find twelve, but there were probably more tucked away amongst the many hangings, bags, coats and other items on display.  ​

To finish, here are a couple of my favourite pieces. The first is a hanten, a traditional warm jacket with a glorious selection of patterns, and the other is an example of long jacket with a pattern called donza which is based on seaweed and originated on the small fishing island of Tobishima in the Japan Sea.  

Last year I didn’t write about the autumn exhibition, an annual event my sashiko group always participates in, so here, belatedly, is my report.
 
With the pandemic still raging, it was a slightly more somber and diminished crowd than usual which gathered to set up the exhibition on October 17. My sashiko group usually makes collaborative wall hangings for this exhibition, but as we had not been able to meet during the year, all of us had worked at home on our 15 by 15 cm squares for the hanging, not knowing what everyone else was doing.  
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​To date the hangings have had geometric patterns, snowflakes, and poem themes, but the theme for 2020 was butterflies, with one hanging in classic blue and white, and the other in colour. This was moment that we all saw for the first time our squares all sewn together, and the butterflies emerge in one glorious flock. It was most thrilling! ​

Our teacher, Chiyoko Nakazaki, also made some butterfly bags to continue the butterfly theme. ​

Other notable items exhibited by the group were this spectacular tablecloth stitched in hempleaf (asanoha), by Ryoko Shiba.  ​

And Masami Inoue made this gorgeous hanging composed of hemp leaf (asanoha) in overlaying fishing net (amime). ​

And finally, was this red bag which I completed during two weeks of self isolation earlier in the year. The centre panel is indigo-dyed cotton stitched with the small flower cross stitch (juuji kohanazashi) pattern. For the surrounding red panels I used a fabric called Kurume kasuri (ikat-dyed).  ​

The most difficult and time-consuming thing was making the knot! Though I learned to tie a knot or two as a girl guide back in the day, this was a challenge on another level. Not having a sense of how to hold and handle the strands made it difficult to follow the printed instructions, so I resorted to YouTube and found this very useful video. After many attempts, I finally got the knack of it and was able to tie a passable good luck knot.  ​

Chiku chiku tanoshimu ito asobi: Hibi no sashiko komono (Fun with thread and sewing: Everyday sashiko items for daily life), published by Boutique-sha this April, is a collection of hanafukin and daily items to make with beautiful coloured thread, according to the introduction.  
 
It is divided into four sections:
Hitomezashi (one stitch sashiko), kugurizashi (woven sashiko), moyozashi (pattern sashiko) and enjoying chiku chiku (more on that later).  

The kugurizashi section has four items: two different hanafukins, coasters and a card case. But pages 18 and 19 have to be my favourite in the whole book; the white hanafukin stitched with juji kuguri (woven cross stitch) in green thread is just gorgeous – a fern-like lace! — while the two simple coasters on the opposite page, diamond pattern stitched in three colours, show off to advantage the possibilities of pattern and colour. This really speaks to me, as that creative potential is one of the things that drew me to sashiko in the first place.   

The moyozashi section has just three items: a large cloth in ‘scrap’ pattern (whatever that means – I’m not really sure); a lovely bag with a tobi asanoha (scattered hemp leaf) pattern; and, a cute round drawstring bag with the shippo tsunagi (linked seven treasures).  
  
Lastly, there is a section on enjoying chiku chiku. Chiku chiku means a prickly feeling or pricking motion. It’s often paired with the words for needle (hari) or work (shigoto) as a general term for needlework in Japanese, which of course includes sashiko. In a quick glance through my collection of sashiko books I found three with chiku chiku in the title, but none of those contained anything in the style of  the items  featured in the chiku chiku section of this book. The potholder and coasters are stitched with the straight-lined seemingly irregular stitches that typify chiku chiku. This is the first time I’ve seen a section devoted to chiku chiku in this type of sashiko book, which is perhaps an indication of its growing influence. It’s easy to understand its popularity when you see the amazingly artistic and inventive pieces in this blog post from Blue and White. 
   
As usual there is a section on the basics of sashiko; eight pages of photographs and diagrams, showing all the materials, basic instructions for transferring patterns, stitching processes, and guide to symbols used. Diagrams are clear, the patterns are to size, and some but not all are in colour.     
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I was confused at first by the numbers in the list of contents, which I assumed matched the numbers for each item as pictured on the page because the fonts are the same. It took me a while to work out that the content numbers are actually page numbers. That was my only complaint. 

Here are four of the six sashiko artists who designed and created the pieces in this collection; Ayufish int, Sashiko Asaya, hako, and Chiisana teshigoto (click on their names to go their sites). You'll find some amazingly beautiful and inventive work on their pages. Have fun browsing!  

Dear Sashikoists,
Life has changed abruptly in ways we could never have imagined only a very short while ago. For me sashiko offers a blessed escape from the anxiety and stress.  
In the spirit of providing a tiny bolthole from the darkness, I searched my collection of sashiko photographs and chose fourteen of my favourites that I shared over two weeks on instagram. ​Below are those photographs with accompanying text, which I hope will also convey a sense of the history and versatility of sashiko.

Day Two 
“Everybody Had Dreams” is the title of this piece, which I saw at the 2016 Tokyo International Quilt Festival. The fabric is a large furoshiki (wrapping cloth) which had belonged to the creator Harumi Iida’s brother-in-law. He had used it to carry his belongings in when he was evacuated to the countryside as a schoolboy during WWII. Seventy years later it came into Harumi’s hands and she stitched it with patterns to evoke the dreams she imagined those children must have had, while feeling sad and lonely at being separated from their families.  ​

Day Three
Boro, which means ragged or tattered threadbare clothing in Japanese, played an important role in the origins of sashiko. This kimono made from rags held together by sashiko stitching, was probably mended and handed down, over and over again. It was in the BORO collection assembled by folklorist Chuzaburo Tanaka (1933-2013) that used to be housed at the Amuse Museum in Asakusa. However the museum has closed since I saw it and the collection was taken on a world tour. ​

Day Four
​This is a Tsugaru Koginzashi kimono, also from the Chuzaburo Tanaka collection. 
​Koginzashi originated in the snowy regions of Aomori in northern Japan, where hemp was the only available fabric. A law passed in 1724 forbade peasants from  wearing cotton, permitting only indigo-coloured hemp. Thus the distinctive patterns and style of stitching using white cotton thread evolved to fill in the rough weave of the hemp and make it warmer. 

Day Six
Here is another example of beautifully coloured Nanbu Hishizashi sashiko. This pair of children’s tabi (footwear) was made sometime in the Meiji era, which could be anytime between 1868 and 1912. They’re so adorable I’d be happy to wear them myself!   ​

Day Seven
One last photo of Hishizashi sashiko. The dense stitching on these workman's trousers would have kept out the cold northern winds. I don’t know anything about these trousers except that they were probably worn in the Meiji era, but the design seems timeless. I can imagine them being worn today in Aoyama, Ginza or any other upmarket district of Tokyo! ​Indigo dyes were also a precious resource that had to be conserved, thus stitching navy blue stripes onto lightly dyed fabric was one way of achieving  that.

Day 8
This wall hanging by Eiko Suzuki is a sampler of sashiko from the Shonai region in Yamagata prefecture. Shonai sashiko patterns are typically geometric with their origins related to daily life and work. Shonai sashiko was stitched on whatever fabric was available (unlike Tsugaru kogin and Nanbu hishizashi which evolved on hemp). Patterns shown here include futome  tsunagi (thick links), ganze (sea urchin), asanoha (hemp), soroban (abacus), sugi (cedar), kawari hishizashi (diamond variation) and kakinohana (persimmon flower).  ​

Day Nine
The pattern on this hanten (workman’s jacket) by Hide Takahashi is called ganze, which means sea urchin. The word ganze comes from the dialect spoken on the tiny Japan Sea island of Tobishima, off the coast of Akita Prefecture, where fishing was obviously a big part of life. Looking at the mesmerizing spiky lines and circles on this jacket, it’s easy to see the resemblance to sea urchin. ​

Day Ten
This table centre stitched in ishiwari (paving stone) style was made by my teacher, Chiyoko Nakazaki. You’ll see segments of asanoha (hemp leaf), Bishamon kikko (Bishamon tortoiseshell) and kumi kikko (interlaced tortoisehell), sayagata (brocade weave), tsuno kikko (horned tortoisehell) and kagome (basket weave). Sashiko was born out of practical necessity, but made the leap from being a mainly practical to a decorative handcraft. Nakazaki-san studied under Akita-born Eiko Yoshida, who was influential in popularizing sashiko as a decorative art from the 1970s.   ​

Day Eleven
From the Taisho period (1912-1926) onwards sashiko began to get colourful. This gorgeously coloured noren (curtain) is the work of my classmate, Masami Inoue. I’m a big admirer of Inoue-san’s stitching, which is unfailingly neat and even; regular in size but also plump and fluffy – like little grains of rice. The pattern is called a noshi, a motif traditionally used on gifts and messages. Patterns used in the strands of this one are, left to right; nowaki (autumn grass), kagome (basket weave), juji tsunagi (linked crosses), asanoha (hemp leaf), maru shippo tsunagi (linked seven treasures), Bishamon kikko (Bishamon tortoiseshell) and higaki (cypress fence).    ​

Day Twelve
More lovely colour in this wall hanging by Akie Ginza, who is another important name in modern sashiko. Ginza has a gallery and shop deep in the countryside of Tokyo (I know that sounds a contradictory but Tokyo is not all city). Her work, which she describes as art, not handicraft, is characterized by the use of naturally dyed fabric and thread, and and by varying the thread thickness to achieve artistic effect. The design in this wall hanging is composed of one stem each of peony, chrysanthemum and cherry blossom, which are a combination of adapted traditional and original designs. The flowers are elongated into a diamond shape, while the border is a playful blue and white spiral pattern.  ​

Day Thirteen
Mend, use, remend and reuse – the spirit of early sashiko lives on in this vest made from, pieces of old fabric stitched together. I came across it for sale in a travelling exhibition. All around Japan there are shops and dealers who specialize in old cloth and clothing made from old fabric. The dealer selling this vest has a shop, but travels to different regional towns and cities to show and sell the fabric and clothing that she sources from other dealers, sashikoists and seamstresses all over the country. The multi-coloured buttons lend a modern, playful touch! ​

Day Fourteen
​For the final photo of this gallery of sashiko, I leave you with this detail from a workman’s apron (probably Meiji era). The pattern name is yatsude asanoha, which means ‘eight-fingered hemp leaf.’ The hemp plant has been a revered and vital part of Japanese life since ancient times, and the pattern based on it is ubiquitous in daily life even now. Hemp has six ‘fingers’, but aralia, the plant on which this pattern is based, has eight. The pattern is called ‘eight-fingered hemp’ because aralia leaves are similar in shape to hemp. The hemp pattern is traditionally used on children’s clothing, to symbolize the wish for them to grow strong like the hemp plant, and as a charm against evil, but it can also be used to express wishes for good health. Therefore in this time of worldwide sickness and uncertainty, I offer it as an expression of my wish for your health and safety.  ​

Dear sashikoists,
​ I know there is not one amongst you who is not touched by the effects of the terrifying virus sweeping our planet. Life has changed abruptly in ways we could never have imagined only a very short while ago. But if you are like me, I know you will find sashiko offers a blessed escape from the anxiety and stress. 
 
In the spirit of providing a tiny bolthole from the darkness, I have been looking through my collection of sashiko photos and chosen fourteen favourites that I would like to offer for your enjoyment over the next two weeks on instagram. Don’t worry if you are not signed up for insta, at the end of the two weeks I will collate them all into one long blog post.
 
To kick off, here is a hanafukin I stitched in a freestyle cherry blossom pattern. Thank goodness that through everything, cherry trees still bloom!

A white blouse with tobi asanoha (scattered hemp leaf) on the front and a form of linked cross (juuji tsunagi) on the right shoulder 

The first section of the book introduces 21 different items with instructions for making each at the back, and the stitch pattern diagrams shown to actual scale, which is a plus. The items include an amulet bag, brooch, pincushion, coaster, name card case, purse, book cover, pot holder, shoulder-bag purse, box-shaped pouch, sturdy drawstring bag, tote bag, lunch wrapper, stole, and boro drawstring bag. 
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The section on the basics of sashiko has a series of photographs that show the process for drafting and stitching three different patterns (hishizashi diamond stitch, komezashi rice stitch, and hon-juji-hishikake real cross diamond woven stitch) in very clear detail, with the reverse side shown as well.  

Then there is a section on mending, once again with close up photographs showing how to mend holes, and photographs of suggested items to use mending techniques on, such as shirt collars and cuffs, cushions and knitted socks. 

A range of kits for making items such as bags, purses, coasters and table runners in traditional blue and white was also available. ​

Other classmates each stitched flower designs to frame. Here is a selection of a few. 

The above are all examples of jiyuzashi, or free stitching, which is basically stitching along a freely drawn line. There were also plenty of examples of moyozashi , or pattern stitching. 

Then there was this spectacular runner below, which was made by one of my classmates done in the bunkatsu (section) style. The patterns you see represented here are (left to right, top to bottom); sayagata (brocade weave), kagome (basket weave), Bishamon (Bishamon-name of a god), asanoha (hemp leaf), tsuno kikko (flower tortoiseshell), and ajiro (wickerwork), plus one more I can’t for the life of me remember or track down – which is driving me nuts!