Copyright 2000-2004, Bush Inc. All rights reserved
Chapter One
Just Suddenly Unable to Make the Rainbows
was an artisan, a craftsman who used to make rainbows. I used to live in a rainbow-producing town. My rainbows were widely accepted and highly praised, for they gave dreams and hopes and comfort to people.
Orders rushed in from all over the world for the rainbows I made.
I was in an euphoria, so proud to be surrounded by honor and fame.
Anything and everything was going smoothly in those days, as the town flourished and the people were very happy.

Rainbows are created by spinning the gathered seeds from the rainbow trees into yarn, and then by weaving those yarn on a rainbow-weaver loom.Rainbow trees are grown by melted snow-water thawed faraway from the distant northern mountains.

Good fertilizers are required for nurturing good rainbow trees. The fertilizers were my songs. The rainbow trees grew as they listened to the songs I sang for them. If I sang joyful songs, the rainbow seeds developed into a hopeful fruit, and when I sang sad songs, the rainbow seeds fruited into a heart-healing one.

The coloring dyes for the rainbows are extracted solely from the particular flowers that grow only in my country. Words are spoken and stories are told daily to the flowers, and as the flowers hear these, they make the stories their nutrition and grow. The colors of the blooming flowers completely vary and differ according to what kind of stories are told to them.