How big of a stir is created when a Zen master falls out of heaven
Bankei Eitaku was a Japanese Zen master of the 17th century. And a blond Hovawart that lived with me about thirteen years ago.
The one stands for his teaching of the 'Unborn', which was new in this for us historical times, because in Zen circles the terminological weight was more on 'non-transience'. The term 'Unborn' means the substance out of which the so-called Buddha nature in every human being arises or in which it has been existed ever since. In this way the teaching of the 'Unborn' might have been given by Bakei to the question of what or who we are.
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'Bankei', Regensburg, 2009 © Dr. Christine Lehr
In contrast to teachings of non-transience, which might result from a thinking in terms of linear time turned to the past, the word 'Unborn' has a major advantage. When temporally thought of at all, it points to a future, whose contour does not have shown itself by now, but contains a promise that seems pretty auspicious.
The other stands for kind of the memory of my own creativity, which, with regard to photography, was not quite clearly outlined until 2009. After having taken this photograph on a walk, I did not know by then, what amazement should be waiting around the corner for me just a few days later. At a dear friend's house I slid my newest photos over the coffee table.
She turned Bankei upside down, so that he fell out of heaven. I was so amazed that this afternoon marked the beginning of a new way of seeing for my photography. So there seem to be two Bankei, or actually just one?
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