French in Japan, or, No Trick, Just a Treat

Most birthdays are spent with a maximum amount of thinking (on my part) and time wasting as to where to go, who to invite and all the other things that racks the brain.  This time around, though, for my day, I thought of going to a local place, but this was voted down by my partner in favor of the pretentious high class French cuisine at the equally upscale hotel.  I didn't really mind, just following along, knowing that they (two others also able to make the event) would enjoy it much more than my selection of venue.

It was a good old time in a different environment, on the 26th Floor, looking out at the night view of this new city, and it reminded me of my old home, but that time seems quite far and away, my becoming more grounded (I live on the 2nd floor now), and the French food which was ever so fancy and aesthetically pleasing reminded me of nothing (never having this kind of style before, even in Paris where my tastes are often very normal even though I often go to the nice places)

All in all, it was great to have a change.  A big change jolts the system, but a really big change is a jolt (required every once in a while)  to change the soul.  And you know me, I don't much care for food, only atmosphere, and I wouldn't mind going back again and again (though I may have to work ever slightly harder to maintain this lifestyle)

a taste of the sea with some exquisite jellies

foamy concoction

beets and duck.

one of the rare times i ate the dessert.

More Drinking to That and This

Although the past year has seen me cutting down on the sauce a great deal (which is really surprising, as I thought I enjoyed it, but it was just a habit like many of my other unnecessary ones), I did find it good fun to take a tour of the Nikka whiskey distillery a short ways from here.  There was not much to see, most of the magic taking place inside the caskets, but for a short period of time (perhaps 10 minutes, I am not sure as time went by so quickly), the attendees had a free for all to sample some of their products.  I stuck with the 17 year, bypassing the other three options.  The first I had neat, and the rest on the rocks or with water.  Alas, all good things come to an end, and we were shuffled out to make way for the next group.

Before we left, we looked around the store, but found nothing in particular we needed.  But there was one other tasting bar, this time requiring money, although we were given a taste of the 10 year single cask malt whisky, which tasted quite fine, and fire-y.  Looking up and down the list of available drinks, it was decided to try the 25 year old single cask malt whisky (the oldest, of course!) and that was quite pleasant.

We all left there smiling, and a little liquored up, with the exception of the wonderful driver (my sister), who had to make do with tea and orange juice, but that's okay, as she does not like drinking much.

a display of the earliest releases, circa 1940s-50s

I'll Drink to This and That

An ocean away, in my old hometown, it is all doom and gloom, rain and hell (not hail), this, this and all the rest of the whining that citizens of that babylon have to undergo, never having experienced any real hardships of Mother Nature- their only imagined trouble is usually that Whole Foods ran out of the organic cereal or some such laughable gripe.  Of course the electricity went out, depriving the idiots of their television God- who to pray to now?

Well, I have to say that for my two cents' worth, which is worth probably a whole lot more, I had really a wonderful day, full of sun and sweetness, doing research into handicrafts and luxury and a mixture of nonsensical things, all to end an era for me- tomorrow being a so-called milestone in my so far uneventful life.  Tell you one thing, though, it's a full moon, and I sure am glad to be in Sendai right now, for many, many reasons that I know and possibly have not even figured out yet (but I will).

In the meantime, for those affected by the storm (the weather, not their internal pain, which should also be dealt with), stay dry.  I will have a drink tonight, for myself, some Japanese whisky (on the rocks, natch) of the sort which is both fun and fresh- yes, good old Uncle Torys will be joining me.  Salud, or as they say here in this here place, 乾杯!

quiet.  dry.  a full moon.  before drinks.

War, What is it good for?

Yesterday was a fun day despite it being rainy, as I was able to go to the Miyagi Museum of Art for the first time (though it is only half an hour or so walk from my place), as I was able to encounter some Japanese modern (not contemporary) artists gathered for the first time.  In specific, there was a sculptor to whom an entire gallery was devoted, and his faces in particular were quite good, as I found myself surprised at my own great interest in them (because, for the most part, except for Rodin, I have almost no interest in formal sculpture)- alas, photos were not allowed, so I have nothing to show for them in physical form.

I did see one sculpture in the garden who looked absolutely perfect for the rainy day- a dejected, demoralized soldier, who spoke without words of the futility, idiocy and pure stupidity of war.

Hidden Place of Light and Hot Waters

Over the weekend, it was suggested to go visit a hot springs, which is always okay by me any day of the week, any old time, as it is great for a soak in hot water (not getting into hot water).  I have no idea of which place is good, as my research skills since I have been here have been limited to my pathetic grasp of language, so I followed along.  Upon arriving, after quite a long drive (said to be two hours, I was asleep), we arrived at our destination. Even a quick glance would show that this was the place to go, as it had a kind of magic which was like a good Disneyland, especially given that we arrived in the early evening.

When we finally entered the hot spring street proper, I reminded me of something I read in a magazine, an inn redesigned by some "famous" architect, and indeed it was there (but booked for the day, so we could not go even if we had plenty of money to burn).  Fortunately, we had time to go and use the one and only hot springs available until closing time (just ten minutes, but enough time to luxuriate in its waters- I being the only one there in the men's bath, my companions were in the women's one)

It is one of those places, increasingly rare, which I think to myself, oh, I should come again.

the dance was magic, as was the moon.

A Talk on Morals

I was more than happy to attend the jam packed lecture/talk today of the writer (and proper Nobel Prize winner) Oe Kenzaburo, and doubly happy that the speech was projected onto a screen as well- the reason being that I was able to follow along and understand the majority of it.  What was most interesting for me was to be in the presence of a Writer of a certain calibre, despite his works not being along the lines of my own sometimes shallow interests.  Yet, after today's talk, I will follow up by looking at his works again, over twenty years having passed since I looked at his novels (at a time when my interest in Japanese literature was at its highest point).

What was really most interesting, though, was that the talk was not on or of literature, but rather on politics and the issue of morals.  This is perhaps not surprising for those who read the work of Oe or know of his public statements/actions, but for someone who works in the realm of the imagination, to inject something of Society, for a better society, that is, is remarkable.

In the center, Oe the brightest vision he was.

A Song for the Night

Following up on the recent shrine renewal post, I thought that I would add some evening shots as well. Over two nights, from 7pm to 830pm, there was a karaoke set-up for anyone who wanted to participate.  Of course, I did not do so, although I would have liked to- but they were singing mostly older songs.  The reason?  Of the twenty or so people there, none of them were younger than retirement age.  I was the sole representative of the under 65 crowd, and even then, I realized that I was no spring chicken.

Nonetheless, I still find these sorts of things fascinating, but I do wonder what will happen in the future.  It is difficult to remain optimistic, but will a young generation rise that will not be mere sheep?

A Sore Sight for Eyes

There is a rather strange but hardly mysterious statue in this town of Kannon, the goddess of mercy, which I sometimes see from a distance, and which looks like a surreal mirage.  I had no interest in getting anywhere close to it, but when I found out that an antiques market would be held there (according to a website I saw devoted to such things), I thought that it was high time to pay her a visit until such pretenses.

When I arrived, by car, it being a distance from me and on top of a hill (not a pleasant walk, I suspect), I was looking around frantically and desperately for the antiques, which were nowhere to be found.  Kannon proved to be merciless, or perhaps merciful, given the relative size of my apartment and the growing (albeit still considerably small) collection of objects.  So, no antiques market, but I was able to get a close look at the statue, which one could enter via the mouth of a dragon or some sort mythical looking creature.  I did not bother to go in, not wanting to pay an admission price for such a thing.

This Godzilla sized monstrosity looks so out of place there, and anywhere, that one wonders who ever thought it up.  Perhaps it was someone with the same mind to open a store devoted to gaudy, cheap, and perhaps quite random Made In China Oriental objects in the large space on its grounds, adding to the things that make no sense.

enter through the jaws 

Red White and no blues

Having a true sense of Home is one of the recurring thoughts and themes that float in my mind often, and the local shrine (which had its annual renewal festival last weekend) which is right across the street from where I live, and which I take as a shortcut coming and going to the one of the local supermarkets, often brings me delight in being here in this place, at this time, further removing me from the place which I had once assumed to be "home" but was in fact just a place, an interminably dull and exciting place at the same time.

The red and white, so red, so white, flapping in the wind, stood still, quiet, calm, all call up emotion of what is and what will be, no longer of what was.

Of Liberty I Sing

Yes, I have been away from this place for over a week now, which is surely the return of a bad habit, that is, time away for no apparent reason (not even under the pretense of "thinking"), so I have to come back by saying first that my daydreaming was due in part to my usual idle behavior and also a round of daydreaming which has not quite ended yet.

It is also undoubtedly true that I have not been making much recently, and pretty lackluster in the creativity department.  This was mostly because I was tired out from having to move, and the sadness of having not enough space (perhaps half the size) that I used to have- such was the downgrade (at least in size, not in quality of living and working and being).

I did have a minor brainstorm, not really much of one, and perhaps more for a schoolboy's sentiment, in that on my visits to the dentist here, which are spaced rather strangely (a checkup requiring two visits, one for the upper, one for the bottom), I started looking at the scrunchies that the dental assistants wore. Of course, it was not just a sartorial statement but also a practical necessity of the workplace.  Well, to thank one of them who was most friendly to me, I made her one.

A note that the other two in the picture are for the receptionists (both of whom are quite nice as well), without whom I would not be able to enter the inner world where my new friend, the dental assistant R, works.  Another note is that they were made using Liberty fabric which is exclusive to the Japanese market.  A final note is that there was enough leftover material to make three pocket squares for myself.

the fabric that started it off

in completed form.

scrunchie for R

Signs of the Past in the Present

There is an area inside the heart of the city which contains small alleyways, dating back to the post second world war era, when it was used as a black market, then covered, then mostly abandoned (so I was told) and now has experienced somewhat of a retro/nostalgic revival- which is exactly what sent me into those lanes in the first place.  Now, while I have been there before, doing my usual snooping around, I did not notice one place in particular which is featured here.  At first, I thought it to be part of the retro design, very similar to what I saw in a nostalgia museum, where it was only the facade.  When I looked closer, I saw a sign that said "Inside of here is Showa (the time period)", I tried the door, but it looked rather flimsy and suspected it to be a stage set of sorts.  But once I looked further, I realized that there was a menu with prices, and that in fact it was a real life bar, except one that opened later in the evening- but that night I had plans (someone was visiting from the babylon that is Tokyo), so I made a mental note to return there one evening, and hopefully it will take me straight into the heart of the past.

The Fight is On

Now, I am far from being a toy collector, although that kind of interest surely floats from the murky depths now and again (often from my own pursuit of such nonsense), and I do have to say that over the weekend, my attendance at the flea market was fueled by a desire for three things- ties, silk scarves with tassels, and, yes, toys.  Unfortunately, I was unable to score on the first two counts, but was able to come home with seven new (or, really, used) little friends, monsters all (well, including a robot).  What fun, and all for a dollar or so (except for the fellow on the far right, who was double price, priced according to popularity, perhaps?)

Notice that I did not mention books, which is the normal scavenger item of my desire.  Well, given that english books are hard to come by, I was not expecting any First Edition (or any edition) William Faulkner works to be had- although one day, I hope I will be proved absolutely wrong.

Heaven help them

There's a tradition in the church of blessing animals, but over the weekend on a visit to the local temple, I was surprised to see that there is a similar one for blessing one's dolls.  Now, not being the owner of any animal (nor ever will I be, having as much interest in that as having a child, which is less than zero), the idea of my toys going to heaven seem far better.  That is, if I go to heaven (unlikely), and with the additional stipulation that there even exists such a thing (which, is, again, unlikely)

p.s. No, I did not bring any of my own to be blessed.

Past Blooming Not I

I've been around, but not here, which is obvious- though the thinking's still thought, fraught with all the perils of being only in the mind, nonexistent in a form physical and material, and I have had so many of these dreams which have kept pushing me back into the game of getting the thing done, the right thing, which is writing, but it is difficult, i say difficult and it is, for lack of a better word, though I could use a damned monumental effort, to bring myself back from the easy comfort of having done a good job, but not good enough, surely, for perseverance is the matter at hand, and to live or to die is simple, but living   in the correct manner is a totally different thing, not just the pathetic relaxation which is desired by the feeble the impotent, but rather the need the desire the will the absolute necessity of working- work, work, and more work.

What I have to offer in terms of images, for I have not been gathering them much of late, is something from the Imperial palace in Tokyo, of which there was not much of interest to see, though cameras were being snapped every which way.  All I could find were some lotus ponds, past their bloom.

The Death of September

September came and went like wildfire, catching me up at its very beginning with a heavy dose of nonsense, pushing me to my own physical limitation for three days near the tail end, knocking me out once and twice but not thrice for the count at the end, and with a general state of "nothing having been done," which for me in the time when I feel as if I should be a workaholic (quite often, as the case may be) is a straight up let-down.  Now that the month has zoomed right into October, the heaviness of Time and Death and all those usual harbringers of gloom and doom but also joy and the rest of it are hanging over me, but come what may, let the rain fall as usual, the typhoon that was to rain upon us came and went just as easily last evening, leaving with not even a whimper.

Fun is fun, but the time for fun is up for now.

Doraemon in the television building, Tokyo.

Reminded me of the Sontaran ship.