Treasure Hunting
Discovering Nosatsu 一
Do you think it would be a stretch of the imagination if I were to tell you that searching for treasures online were just as invigorating as digging for buried treasure on a tropical island?
As a kid, my family didn’t live on an island but we did live rural and that was the closest thing to deserted as I have ever known. We lived on a thirteen acre plot of land where my brother and I were led to believe that a horse was buried in a hedgerow which ran between our property and a neighboring cornfield. We never found the bones we’d hoped for, but the excitement was there when digging for them.
Having grown up and become a tattooer, I’ve developed an unquenchable thirst for seeking out old reference material. Discovering new pieces helps to create more interesting work. It also deepens and expands one’s knowledge of Japanese culture and traditions.
Several years ago, I’d come across an auction. It was a collection of what I’d simply known as senja fuda(千社札). Basically, Japanese stickers used by travelers and/or worshipers who would paste them up, leaving them behind at the temples and shrines they’d made pilgrimages to. This custom had developed in the Edo period and was still in practice when this collection was assembled(roughly between 1910 and 1920).
Disappointedly, I did not make the winning bid. However, it wasn’t a complete loss, In the auctions title and description, I found a new word- nosatsu. It was another word used for senja fuda which is more commonly used today.
I’m curious, thinking about it now, intrigued by the idea of who might have acquired the collection. Where did it end up? Maybe, someday, I’ll find out.
So, having found a new search word, I began searching. Surprisingly, the web directed me straight to another collection of nosatsu. Luckily, this collection is in the hands of a University who graciously allows public access to it.
With nearly 10,000 items within this discovery, I’m going to start sharing, with regularity, the senja fuda I find most interesting and begin to weave a web of my own in the process.
