mad2 by the villagers. Nearly all Korean woodwork, especially turnery, suffers some deformity in its shape, But this slight crookedness always gives us a certain peculiar asymmetrical beauty, an indescribable charm that entices us into a sense of beauty that is free and unrestricted. From what source and by what means Korean craftsmen obtain such natural asymmetrical beauty had long been a question for me. In Japan we find also a great deal of turned works. Some are extremely good, made so precisely that they are almost perfect in shape, But their symmetrical per- fection lacks the quality of unrestricted beauty. In turning there is an accepted rule that the wood use2d should be thoroughly dried: otherwise cracks will almost certainly appear, In Japan the wood is air dried for at least two or three years. This is common sense, In modern factories, of course, the drying is done quickly in kilns. In any case, all turnery should be produced from well dried wood. Portunately, I was favored with a rare visit to that Korean village where those beautiful turned goods are made, I was excited by the opportunity of seeing these Korean craftsmen at work because I thought that I might grasp the mysterious beauty of their products. When I arrived after a long, hard trip I noticed at once beside their workshops many big blocks of pine ready to be lathed. To my great astonishment all of them were sap green and by no means ready for use. Imagine my surprise when a workman set one of these blocks in a lathe and began to turn it. The pine was so green that turning it produced a spray redolent of the scent of resin. This use of green wood perplexed me greatly, for it defies a basic rule of turnery. I asked the artisan, "Why do you use such green wood? Cracks will appear pretty soon." "What does it matter" was the calm answer. I was amazed by this Zen-monk-like response. I felt sweat on my forehead. Yet I dared to ask him, “How can we use something that leaks?" "Just mend it" was his simple answer, I was amazed to discover that these artisans mend their turmery so artistically and ingeniously that a cracked piece seems better than a perfect one, Consequently they do not care whether it is cracked or not. Our common sense is of no use to Koreans at all, They live in a world of "thusness", not of “must or must not." Their way of making things is so natural that man-made rules are meaningless to them. They are attached neither to the perfect piece nor to the imperfect. 5So it was that at this Ze