Still Gone, Still Here

Some people prefer to remember those who have passed away by celebrating their birthday, while others (like myself) prefer to remember them by the day that they physically left the world.  I have always thought it nonsensical to hear that "today would have been so and so's 180th birthday" or some such statement- as if they would have lasted that long, but I surely understand the mentality behind it.  Most people do not want to face the possibility of their own deaths, and try to push that of others into the depths of forgetting.  But, as most people (myself included, most likely) are not even "living" (if that means really doing something of value, of merit, for the present, for the future), is there really a difference?

There are people in my family who were related by blood for whom I expressed either no emotion or care when I heard they died, because of the very reason that they in their lifetimes have had little or nothing to do with me (nor I with them), so they are but strangers. Then there are those who I never met, and could never meet (their being gone long before I was born), but whom I remember in my way- through their work in different genres (writing, music, film, et cetera but which I will categorize as "Art")-

Among these people, among these Familiars- is the late Japanese film director Ozu Yasujiro- who was born and died on the same day- today (December 12th), after living on this earth for five cycles (a cycle given as 12 years on the Japanese horoscope).  Among all filmmakers who I find inspirational, (a short list which includes the aesthetic and spiritual giants Andrei Tarkovsky, Robert Bresson, Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni), Ozu stands as the absolute.

I visited him (or, at least his gravesite in Kamakura) twice- once with someone who is no longer in my life, and once by myself.   I will keep what  thoughts I had and have about the subject to myself to keep my prayer to Ozu Sensei as pure as can be.

Nothingness.