Day 5145: A Sumo Story. & Czechia birdhouses.

   

"About town": junk papers collage, digital.

 

                                                                       

  

Want music?

   Click: Sean Davis, A Good Day

2GN2S 

Konishki, Musashi Maru, Akebono

As you have surmised if you've read this blog for long, I love Sumo! I have for many years, decades. I actually subscribed to Sumo Digest for many years. So when I found this photo today of the first non-Japanese rikishi , Konishki, Musashi Maru and Akebono, all from Hawaii, and you guessed it, it reminded me of a story. I was always a fan of Akebono, Even before he was a Yokozuna, he had a dignity, what guys often call a righteousness about him. He retired years ago and had since passed.

I was lucky to be in Little Tokyo with a friend many years ago when we heard he was going to be at the Aratani Theater in Little Tokyo, L.A. We went and there he was on stage, gigantic (6'8" & down from his top competition weight of 405#). I think they had a movie of his accomplishments, but what I remember most was the questions and answer period. So many in the audience had questions and he was so gracious and patient answering. Then a young lady in the row in front of us who stood. She said she had been in Japan years ago and was in a town where they had sumo contests, in between the six yearly basho (tournaments). She said she was fascinated and reached out to touch a sumo player as he went in to the ring. Then she said, "My questions is when and how did you decide to seriously do Sumo?" Without a moments hesitation, Akebono said, Well, I was in a town and a pretty girl reached out and touched my robe." 

It was such a perfect moment, everyone enjoyed his humor and that great smile.

 

In Czechia, one artist found harmony between music and nature by transforming broken instruments into birdhouses. What began as a simple art project has grown into a poetic movement—violins, trumpets, cellos, and even tubas, once silenced by damage, now hang from urban trees across parks and plazas, filled not with sound, but with birdsong.

Each piece is carefully reworked into a functional nesting space. Trumpet bells become entryways, violin bodies are hollowed and lined with straw, and guitar sound holes serve as cozy lookout windows. These musical birdhouses preserve the soul of the instrument while giving birds a warm, sheltered home—turning what was once discarded into something that lives on in the treetops.

Passersby are often surprised to spot them. A saxophone suspended in a birch. A drum shell nestled between branches. Some are painted brightly, while others keep their original woodgrain and tarnish, creating a sense of weathered charm. Each one is different, and each tells a story—not just of sound lost, but of life returned.

The project has since inspired schools and musicians to donate old or broken instruments. Some communities have even hosted music-and-nature festivals beneath the trees, celebrating both creativity and conservation.

In Czechia’s cities, these instrument birdhouses now form a quiet symphony—where the music may be gone, but the melody lives on, in fluttering wings and morning song.

  

 

A 4 minute video, Butterfly Nightmare, here.

 

 

Just because ...

Malabar Pied Hornbill

Friday's Smiles ... 

 

  

  

   

Hoping you see all the good things in your day.