Meisje en de dondergod Raijin 1755 - 1760

Editor: Here we have *Meisje en de dondergod Raijin* by Torii Kiyomitsu, dating from about 1755 to 1760. It's an intriguing woodcut print. There’s something dreamlike about the juxtaposition of the girl and the thunder god. How do you interpret the narrative being presented? Curator: Oh, I’m completely swept away by this one! It's like peeking into a shared daydream. Kiyomitsu's use of ukiyo-e evokes, for me, the ephemeral quality of our fleeting interactions. Imagine: Raijin, god of thunder, up there in his cloudscape office, appears almost studious as he jots things down, while the maiden below is equally consumed by her inner world, almost unaware of his presence. Does the apparent disconnect pique your curiosity, perhaps, about the story implied by the picture? Editor: Yes, it really does. I'm wondering if the woman looking upwards suggests a prayer or perhaps she awaits her fate? Curator: Absolutely! That slight upward tilt could convey any number of inner states – anticipation, contemplation, even a touch of defiance. And I always love to imagine that the swirling cloudscapes mimic, in a way, the flowing patterns on her kimono, binding her story and Raijin's together, despite the physical space between them. How wild is that?! It makes me wonder about hidden connections... Editor: So, it's a reflection on fate or the interplay of earthly and supernatural forces? Curator: Or perhaps both. You know, the beauty of a piece like this is that it’s more about questions than answers. Editor: Definitely. This has completely altered my perspective. Curator: Mine too! I am now wondering if there's something special about the umbrella this young lady holds and hides from us.