#ensō

[norbert-weber]

Takemoto Morio e-Karatsu Ensō Chawan

Potter: Takemoto Morio, Tōan Karatsu Approximate size: W4.8″ by H3.4″ or 12.3 by 8.7 cm An exemplary Karatsu chawan made by the famous potter Takemoto Morio. In han tsutsu-gata or half cylinder shape which has been wheel-thrown and lightly shaped on the bottom half and given a carved koudai, foot-ring or foot of the bowl. The […] Takemoto Morio e-Karatsu Ensō Chawan

[viragfold]

There is no planet B

VIRTUAL EXHIBITION: LINK

RELATED POSTS: LINK1 LINK2

[bel-giorno-per-morire]

•Ensō (円相)•

L’Enso non ha regole formali: può essere perfettamente simmetrico o completamente sbilanciato, tracciato con pennellata sottile e delicata o spessa e massiccia. Lo “Zero Enso”, è associato al vuoto che accompagna la pienezza dell’universo. L’ Enso ha inoltre molte similitudini con l’Uruboro, un simbolo antico che raffigura un serpente o un drago che si morde la coda formando un cerchio. Lo psicoanalista C.G. Jung, aveva definito l’Uruboro come un archetipo. Il significato dei simboli, così come degli archetipi è universale e particolare allo stesso tempo: essi parlano attraverso di noi di qualcosa che sta accadendo nella nostra vita: con quale sentimento affrontiamo (o neghiamo) il vuoto? Come riempiamo le nostre vite per la paura di affrontarlo, cosa stiamo evitando e cosa dovrebbe cambiare ma non è cambiato? Le domande che spesso ci poniamo e che non trovano risposta hanno bisogno di un tempo di latenza per essere comprese e vissute, e di certo questo tempo va svuotato delle inutilità di cui di solito ci riempiamo e che consumiamo: oggetti, relazioni, immagini, rumori. Il simbolo del cerchio può aiutarci: esso definisce un vuoto interno, un confine, uno spazio, una bolla di protezione: immaginiamo di posizionarci al centro e di disegnare intorno a noi il cerchio dell’Enso. Esso è il nostro confine, lo spazio sicuro, il tutto ed il niente, qualcosa che viene prima dell’Io e delle sue molteplici forme: è il vero sé, il contatto con noi stessi che solo attraverso il silenzio, la meditazione, l’accettazione ed il fare posto, può cominciare per davvero.

[florina-venus]

Free mind, spirit and love . Neues flyerdesign . #tätowieren #tätowieren #tätowierungenLeipzig #leipzigtattoo #leipzigtattoostudios #LeipzigArt #Leipzig #ensō #enso #ensorising #ensotattoo #spirituality #spirituelletattoos #spirit #freemind #mindyourfreedom #Tattoos #femaletattooartist #tätowierungenLeipzig #freemindTattoo #spiritTattoos #zen #zenTattoos #buddhism #buddhismart #Leipzig (hier: Leipzig, Germany) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqILoVTtsPx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jptattooart]

Squirrel Ensō

Tattooing Process :

#tattooing#tattooprocess#tattooreels#reelstattoo#Squirreltattoo#animaltattoo#colortattoo#asianinkandart#instattoo#tattoohk#hktattoo#hongkongtattoo#松鼠#紋身#香港紋身#刺青#水墨刺青#タトゥー#栗鼠#다람쥐

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Music：

massobeats - honey jam

[diremoone]

ensō (in paradise)

gojo satoru x student! reader — [tffts]

throughout heaven and earth, he alone is the honored one. but he doesn’t want either. he wants his paradise; he wants to be back in the field of lotuses and lilies with the one that treats him like he was never a god, but as if he was always human

w — teacher/student relationship, underage, adult/minor relationship, age gap, mostly Gojo’s POV, implied! slightly chubby reader, minor gore, prose, word vomit in some areas haha, no dialogue except maybe a few lines lmao, ANGST, and JJK manga spoilers for 236

[ ending line divider goes to @/saradika]

Nothing in his life could have ever prepared him for this. No amount of training or mental fortitude could ever prepared him for losing the fight — for defeat — and the aftermath that he knew would ensue. He didn’t like it, but it was what it was.

The only problem? He wasn’t satisfied. 

With this? Never.

Satoru had won. The fight was over. He had bested the King of Curses with his Unlimited Hollow, hollowing out a massive chunk of Shinjuku. The body of the boy that Satoru swore to take back was battered, missing limbs and out of energy and done.

He won.

What went wrong? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his torso had been suddenly cut, split almost in half with entrails visible for the world to see. To see that he was nothing more than a human— a human playing the part of a god that he was not. He remembers losing feeling below his ribs, the warmth of the fish of blood, then falling, sliding backwards from atop his lower half. He doesn’t like to see that his legs are still standing, that blood coats everything from where he was cut to his knees. He’s sure there’s a puddle gathering beneath the feet his head was separated from. 

All he knows is that he’s dying, and that he won’t be coming back.

He doesn’t need to close his eyes to see Suguru, Nanami, Haibara, and Masamichi in the afterlife. That’s unnecessary, he thinks. They talk in the final moments of the life of Gojo Satoru, in his state of limbo of his soul coming to pass into the pearly gates he knows he doesn’t deserve to go through.

He calls out to his old teacher in the afterlife, yelling at him over the saying that there’ll never be a sorcerer that won’t die with regrets.

Because despite the facade that he doesn’t have any… maybe, just maybe… he has them.

It may have been a worthy fight, a worthy end for Gojo Satoru, the most powerful sorcerer of the modern era, but he wasn’t satisfied. He had regrets (he wouldn’t have called out to his teacher otherwise) about… maybe a few things. Perhaps several. He was supposed to die alone; he was supposed to show Sukuna he understood the magnitude of solitude the King of Curses bore as the strongest; he was supposed to foster a new generation…

Ah… He almost closes his eyes. His students…

Satoru’s voltage had just began to ramp up, his reverse cursed technique back at full force thanks to Black Flash. He had won. Hollow Purple had brought the mighty King of Curses to his knees, no matter the expense to Shinjuku. 

But now, it was too late. It had all been too sudden for even him to comprehend: that he had been cut through by Sukuna’s newly acquired technique. 

Satoru heard his lower half finally hit the ground, inches, centimeters even, from his severed upper. He could feel the blood splatter onto the stumps of his arms, guessing its proximity. 

How was one supposed to fix this? He knew he probably could, even if it did re-exhaust the reverse cursed technique bar he’d just filled back up. That wasn’t a problem, if he could just think hard enough. 

The problem now was fighting the peaceful slow of his heart with the regrets he wasn’t allowed to have; the problem was the fighting the serenity of death with the unsatisfactory, unsatisfied way he was going to leave the planet — leave his fellow peers and students behind. 

His students… A faint hum rumbles from his throat. You.

He can only imagine how you’re feeling, seeing him severed in almost half and a bloody mess. He knows how he would feel if anything like this happened to you. He can’t even imagine it… To flatten the entire landscape, the Earth even, to obliterate everything and everyone on it, would not be enough, nowhere near enough, to satisfy his rage. Because it wouldn’t bring you back.

Nanami was half right. He does use jujutsu as a means to satisfy himself. He is weird; he’ll definitely agree. However, as of just a few months ago, that’s changed. It’s changed because you dropped into his life. It’s changed because you didn’t see him as a god like the rest of jujutsu society. You didn’t revere him, the very pinnacle of sorcery itself, not like Yuuji did. Although he tried at first to get you to see him the same way everyone else did, he quickly gave up. Because it felt nice. For some reason, he didn’t feel like he had to be at the top. Not with you. Yes, he immediately knew how strange it was, but what he didn’t do was question it. And that was something he wouldn’t regret.

“…toru!” 

Satoru didn’t know why he was hearing your voice. The universe granting him one last wish?

He prayed that you weren’t here on the battlefield, here in front of Sukuna. He prayed your voice was nothing more than a figment of his imagination — the overactive brain that made him so childish and hyper. Satoru hoped it was your voice carrying across the wind, across the spiritual plane, because if it wasn’t, he was truly going to hate himself for not getting up. Especially when he knew he could. He just… didn’t want to.

Satoru felt the cold, then a familiar firmness press against the severed portion of his body. His lower half. His legs and partial torso were being put to the rest of his upper body, his arms being connected to remaining stumps.

His hearing was still intact. Muddled just a little bit, like being underwater, but it was coming back to him. 

The first thing he hears clearly is crackling. Like electricity. Like lightning. He knows what’s happening even while he’s dying.

Kashimo must be on the field, he thinks. And he’s surprised he can still think. Because there was a moment earlier where thoughts were thick fog, hazing over his overworked brain to tell him to sleep and get some rest even though it would be the last time his eyes would close. 

Things get clearer; his hearing increases, his thoughts begin to speed up, his vision goes form opaque to crystal, and finally, his sense of touch comes back. 

“Satoru!”

He’s right. Kashimo is on the field, fighting Sukuna. Shoko is also there, along with Yuuta. Both are utilizing their reverse cursed energy to the maximum output. And, to his fear, so are you.

He’s right. You’re on the battlefield as well. It makes his heart sink in upset. You’re helping heal him, too. Out of the three of you, you have the highest output of healing capacity. You match him so well, just with the opposite powers; two sides of the same coin.

Satoru hates the tears running down your cheeks. He hates that your eyes are swollen and puffy and red and that you’re going to have a massive headache come tomorrow. He hates that you’re this sad, this upset, and it’s all because of him. He’d like to rip his own heart out as recompense, but he knows that would only hurt you further.

The only way he could make it better is by healing and getting up off the ground.

Satoru’s going to make it better. He can’t leave you alone and afraid and in this current state that breaks the heart inside his chest that he found out is still human. After all this time, he’s still human. And he still has to thank you for showing him that. 

Heaven with his friends was amazing. Earth with his students and peers was exciting. But that wasn’t enough. You were the paradise that made him feel human, feel something he hasn’t known before. It was new, something more than just fun and exciting, and he wasn’t willing to let that go. Not yet. Not ever.

He can feel his brain pulse with the strain, lifeforce dwindling as he searches and searches and searches and searches and fucking there it is.

Satoru fires up his reverse cursed technique, smoke billowing from his waist and arms, the energy encompassing his broken body. A heavy, soul-shaking thunderclap echos in his ears the second his heart restarts. The suddenly inhale of oxygen almost overwhelms his lungs and he’s alive again.

Shoko and Yuuta’s hands are still on him, unwavering while aiding in the process. You, however, pull away. He knows why. He knows you too well: that you fear your touch might make things worse instead of better. 

Silly girl, he thinks with a smile. You could never hurt me.

Everything hurts. Reverse cursed energy may heal wounds, but scars would still surely remain.

He uses his repaired arms to lift himself off the ground. He whines childishly at the pain, earning a deadpan look from Shoko and a heavy sigh from the second-year, along with a cloth to wipe the blood from the sides of his mouth.

“Knock it off, Gojo.” Shoko lights up another cigarette. She takes a long puff, one that makes his, Yuuta’s, and your sweet and puffy eyes go wide. “You need to recover. Properly, this time. Come back to base. You can fight him again if Kashimo loses.”

His shining blue eyes go to Sukuna and Kashimo. He wants to say something, that he should finish what’s been started. But the second his eyes land on them, his peripheral sees you. Devastated, sweet, upset, lovable little you that just witnessed the near loss of someone who was more than just a teacher to her.

He bites his tongue. He can’t. 

“Okay~”

Satoru is hugged by his students and applauded by the rest once he’s back. Maki, however, true to Maki fashion, punches his chest in worry. It hurts, thanks to her Heavenly Restriction, but he’s glad to feel it. (She’s stronger than Toji, that much he’s almost sure of.)

He doesn’t shower, but cleans up with water and cloth and changes into new clothes, ready sooner rather than later if he’s needed again. Which he doesn’t doubt that he will.

But Satoru wants to rest now. He wants to watch as Kashimo (and maybe his students) take down Sukuna and Kenjaku. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. He does, but he doesn’t. The longer he’s away from the battlefield and by your side, the more he’s tearing away from his desire to fight. He may come when called, but for no reason other than that. Satoru wants to hand the torch off. It’s time. 

He can hear the fight; he doesn’t need to see it. His eyes need rest anyway.

He wants to indulge in the luxury of not being needed. He want to indulge in the paradise of being human, of being content and finally satisfied with something other than being the world’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer. And with you, he can do that. You provide that sanctuary for him. You give him things he never thought were possible for someone like him.

Satoru’s big arms are looped tightly around your waist, holding you close to him. His head is buried into the soft squishiness of your tummy while he rests. It’s his favorite place to be. Your tummy is the perfect pillow to rest his head, a little piece of heaven that grants him rest he doesn’t often come by. It’s warm and soft and cozy and he genuinely doesn’t understand why you don’t like how soft you are.

He hopes you stay soft. As soft as possible anyway. He doesn’t want you hardened, not like him. He wants your heart to stay soft, your hands smooth and stomach plush and comfy so he can feel every day the fruit of his sacrifice of being The Strongest.

As for you, you can’t help but feel like you’re about to explode. Not even an hour ago, the man laying on your lap, your teacher, was drifting into the afterlife, his blood all across the ground and staining his lower half after being cut into two (four, but you can’t bother to think about it any further).

Now, he’s nestled into your tummy with a content grin on his face, using you as a pillow and relaxing as if he hadn’t just fought the fight of his life against the most powerful being in known jujutsu history — like nothing ever happened. Your hands are threaded through his stark white locks, fingertips gently rubbing his scalp to the point where you were sure he was falling asleep.

“Easy,” comes Satoru’s voice. He isn’t asleep. The tone he uses is not his high pitched one; it’s the deep one that he uses on rare occasion, the one that grabs your attention because it’s important. “Stop thinking so much. I’m still here.”

His ethereal blue eyes gaze up at you sweetly, like one would a lover like you’re more than just his student, and you are. They’re filled with such emotion it makes you turn away in embarrassment. You don’t know why he looks at you like you’re the world to him, but he does. It’s because you’re different; they’re filled with love, because he knows in his heart he’s in love. Even if he has to wait a few more years, he knows that you’re it. You’re the one for him.

You’re his paradise, his well-deserved peace and tranquillity. Together with you, he’s at his best.

Behind him on the screen, Kashimo decimates Sukuna further. He’s on his knees, and Yuuta takes over from there. Sukuna’s soul is separated from Megumi’s body, leaving the boy comatose from his own soul being crushed under the weight of Sukuna’s evil. All that’s left is Kenjaku, and Satoru knows he can easily defeat the man holding his late best friend’s body and put an end to the Culling Games once and for all.

Satoru can’t wait until this is all over. He can’t wait to properly bathe in the glory of the peace and serenity of the paradise that he’s never had until now — the paradise he’s more earned. Death hasn’t earned him yet.

Satoru burrows himself deeper into your stomach, curling his legs up on the sofa, making you giggle from being ticklish there. He’ll come if he’s needed. But for now, he’s going to stay behind, and keep you out of harm’s way doing it.

Right here and right now, he’s going to be a selfish little bastard and enjoy the paradise on Earth that Heaven could never have afforded him.

here’s the fix-it fic guys time to take a tylenol and hit the pillow. i have absolutely no shame in giving myself carpal tunnel for this. gojo dead? naw he just gotta wait for backup everything’s fine :’)) also this is a jumbled mess and probably shit that’s the only thing I’ll apologize for bc I kept on getting upset and crying while doing this like 🥲 gojo come back

taglist (for now): — @vagabond-umlaut @heresan @nayrring @satorunin @satoruhour @aeanya @greycaelum (we don’t talk much babe but I thought you’d be okay with me tagging you since you commented on a couple of my works ☺️ and I’m such a huge fan of urs)

[lascitasdelashoras]

Ensō, caligrafia japonesa

[disease]

“ENSŌ: A WORLD FILLED WITH” TAKASHI MURAKAMI 村上 隆 | 2018 [screenprint on paper | 18.4 x 15.7″]

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

By the Grace of Cat

Inspired by Lily’s official illustration, Rei has a cat. Finally. @bdcharacterweek hosted a week of Kazuki and one of the prompts was cats/dogs. This is super late, I know. (And I am worried that they haven’t updated yet.) Also, for @fluffbruary’s May prompt silk/pillow/pet. Deeply grateful for Andy @clouds-of-peach for her owlish eyes and suggestions.

Half an hour later, the cat’s meowing ceases and so does the noise coming from the child. When Kazuki comes back to check in on them what he sees in front of him tugs at his heartstrings. Rei uses the cat as his pillow while Miri sleeps on his arm, snoring softly, saliva running down her chin. It is a peaceful tableau that he has never thought he would experience after the death of his first wife. The cat stretches her back showing her black-inked belly. An invitation? A dare? Feeling bold in front of a cat he’s only known for a day, Kazuki then kneels down and begins to knead and rub her tummy. In Kazuki’s eyes, Rei, Miri and the animal resemble a closed ensō. A perfection.

Read the rest on AO3.

[snaccpopstudios]

Will your games have a mobile version?

Hi there, thanks for asking! While the availability of Android ports may differ depending on the individual project's size and engine, our publisher, Project Ensō, is always interested in making games more accessible to a wider audience. Please note that certain projects may not be ideal for mobile devices due to how big they're projected to be: Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack will include full voice acting and numerous CGs, so the game itself might not even fit on the average phone depending on how large it gets. Let's face it: your phone probably has more than 5GB of bloatware installed each update.

As a note to our iOS players: due to Apple's strict policies against hosting explicit adult content on the Apple App Store as well as a policy against sideloading apps from non-Apple App Store sources, it's unlikely that any SnaccPop Studios games will be officially available on iOS. We're looking into alternatives for allowing those players to enjoy our games however and apologize for the inconvenience.

[sidheilustra]

The Queer Halloween Stories Bundle 2023 Is Funding The Future of Queer Art It's that time of year again, and that means it's time to break out the campfire stories! The Queer Halloween Stories Bundle returns for 2023 with over 100 projects from over 80 folks from around the globe, ranging from the spooky to the spoopy and sometimes the downright unnerving! In this bundle, you will find... - 83 Digital Games (with 2 separated translated builds) - 22 Physical Games - 7 Books/Zines - 3 Comics - 3 Audio Dramas Please note that of the above projects, 15 of them contain subject matter that is considered NSFW in nature. Those interested in purchasing the bundle should be aged 18 years old or over. The Queer Halloween Stories Bundle is a mutual aid bundle directly benefiting queer indie developers, authors, and artists, with all sales split evenly among participants who have opted in to receive funds for their work. For the price of one AAA title, you can help fund the future of queer art by supporting these creators and discovering titles you won't find anywhere else. 🎃 FAQ 🎃 What is the Queer Halloween Stories Bundle? The Queer Halloween Stories Bundle is a grassroots indie media bundle that hopes to bring attention to the underground world of queer horror and other Halloween-adjacent art while financially supporting the folks behind these projects. How much does it cost? There are two versions of the bundle, the $60 Fright Edition and the $10+ Treat Edition. Both versions of the bundle contain the same content, though we encourage potential buyers to purchase the $60 Fright Edition if it would not jeopardize their personal financial situation in order to maximize support for our participating developers. Who are the organizers? The Queer Halloween Stories Bundle is spearheaded by tofurocks/Project Ensō with the assistance of Drazillion and Dulcia Games. Who drew the promotional art? Candy the Cyclops was originally designed by inkymaw. This year's main promotional art was drawn by Isla of milk+ visual, with logowork by Madi of Sad Ghost Studios. Alternate pixel promotional art was drawn by Quinn K. 🎃 Reblogs are appreciated! $60 Fright Edition $10+ Treat Edition

[gravity-rainbow]

Image: Enso calligraphy by Kanjuro Shibata XX "Ensō (円相)," c. 2000

"Those Zen artists with their simple O's [the enso, the 'Zen circle,' the symbol of supreme enlightenment] had the knack of concentrating the whole Self into the simplest acts. The spontaneous, simple O is the vehicle of Self, the vehicle of evolution, the vehicle of passion….Hakuin wrote, 'If you forget yourself, you become the universe.' That mysterious factor of surrender, the creative surprise that releases us and opens us up, spontaneously allows something to arise. If we are transparent, with nothing to hide, the gap between language and Being disappears. Then the Muse can speak."

STEPHEN NACHMANOVITCH Free Play: Improvisation in Life and Art

[viragfold]

[ MY WORK: LINK ]

[radical-revolution]

What was never lost can never be found.

~Zen Saying

In Zen, ensō ("circle") is a circle that is hand-drawn in one or two uninhibited brushstrokes to express a moment when the mind is free to let the body create. The ensō symbolizes absolute enlightenment, strength, elegance, the universe, and mu (the void).

[florina-venus]

Free mind, spirit and love . Neues flyerdesign . #tätowieren #tätowieren #tätowierungenLeipzig #leipzigtattoo #leipzigtattoostudios #LeipzigArt #Leipzig #ensō #enso #ensorising #ensotattoo #spirituality #spirituelletattoos #spirit #freemind #mindyourfreedom #Tattoos #femaletattooartist #tätowierungenLeipzig #freemindTattoo #spiritTattoos #zen #zenTattoos #buddhism #buddhismart #Leipzig (hier: Leipzig, Germany) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqILnmztIct/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jptattooart]

Squirrel Ensō . . . #Squirrel #Squirreltattoo #squirrellove #squirrelsofinstagram #animaltattoo #chinesepainting #chinesepaintingtattoo #enzo #zencircle #colortattoo #tattoodaily #tattooart #tattooartwork #asianinkandart #instattoo #instatattoo #hktattoostudio #tattoohk #hktattoo #hongkongtattoo #松鼠 #紋身 #香港紋身 #刺青 #彩色刺青 #水墨刺青 #タトゥー #リス #동물타투 #다람쥐