Year of the Snake, 2012

New Year's Eve found me in the quiet of home and then a short walk to the lovely small shrine in front of my place, as well as the larger Aoba Jinja- where many people (locals all) went to offer their 5 yen pieces and prayers for the future.  This civilized and respectful tradition seems a far cry from the days of my own yesteryear, fueled by alcohol and craziness (but accompanied by friends).

Well, the past is past, again, past, past.

And here is the new, the now,and today is the start of a new year, fueled as it is with new life and joy and expectation.

The night was quiet but alive with beauty and joy.

Awaiting the call of the future, moving forwards.

Mingei, Tradition, Handmade and Bought.

Loyalty, Fearlessness, Truth, Love, Memory, Time.

Another year is coming to its end, and this is the final post for 2012. 

There.

See/Cannot See

In the Distance

The Last Survivor

Salute

Young Heroes

Twist and Turn, Wood Version

Yesterday, to kick off the holiday season proper here in Japan, we decided to take a little trip to nearby Fukushima, and in particular a place called Aizu-Wakamatsu (more on that later) and in specific the Edo wooden building called Sazae-do.  It was indeed a magical experience, and especially wondrous in that it is completely made out of wood, further showing how the old ways of construction have infinite things to teach the throw-away and constantly re-build culture of the contemporary Japan.  To walk inside the building on what can only be called makeshift stairs, more like a ramp with wooden slats so that one can maintain balance (that, and a rail), is something that will not be easily forgotten.

On such a day, snow on the floor, my partner-in-crime chose the itinerary and I followed along, though I knew in advance what we were going to see, and I have to admit that said partner is really becoming more and more sophisticated in taste, finding things of deep beauty, remarkable history and all around "wow"- this in direct comparison to the pathetic style exhibited by many of lying about, "relaxing," or some such waste of life.

So, as the year ticks down to its finale, I am looking forward to further adventures of this sort.

Believe it or not

When I was in Kamakura last week (though it seems two lifetimes ago) with my wonderful friend S, we came across this board affixed with paper fortunes that were based on birthdate and blood types.  If one were interested, a small deposit of 100 yen (a little more than a dollar in today's ever fluctuating and low currency conversion rates) would grant one the privilege of learning what the future had in store.  I thought of doing this, but then brushed it off, though I had to take a picture of it for my reference.

Which brings me to one of my pals, who is incredibly superstitious (quite often stupidly so), believing in all this voodoo mumbo jumbo.  What is most hilarious is that he would pay to hear only what he wanted to hear, and if it was not something he wanted, then he would scoff at it.  What can you expect from anyone who needs to go to some fortune hunter- i mean, fortune teller.

One must absolutely take one's fate in one's hands, or otherwise, who knows what cliff some witch doctor will lead you off of?  Such is the state of affairs as the year comes to its quiet end.

Ho Ho Ho from Sendai

It being Christmas/Xmas today and I not really one for following any kind of tradition, I still joined the party on the sidelines.  First and foremost, there was an abundance of pastries to be had (or bought), though that was not for me but rather for my partner in crime.  Second, the hallowed tradition of eating Kentucky Fried Chicken in Japan for christmas, which is of course a westerner's invasion of the country but which I can accept this one time.  Third, of course there are the gifts, not many but perfect enough, including a wonderful little letter from my young friend, an alien figure from her, and a drawing/illustrator from that young friend's mother (my friend, too!).

No picture is here represented, but I stopped by my favorite office and dropped off some small gifts for my favorites there (R, Y and T)- although I did not see R, who was upstairs and I didn't want to bother her (though, in fact, I would liked to have).  Of course they were surprised, as I am sure no client ever does that, or very few do.  Meeting them this year has been one of the few joys of my time here.

Last but certainly not least, I saw the character who represents this town in full effect, donning a Santa costume.

Anew, Alight, Alive

There was a lot of hoopla in the media and in publications (books, magazines) about the newly renovated Tokyo Station Hotel, once a star on the scene and now making its reappearance with as much glory as it can possibly muster.  Now, anyone who is able to navigate the insanity of the station itself deserves a medal, or is perhaps insane, so that the best thing to do is avoid the station proper (despite having ramen street, character street, and the shinkansen to send you up and down the country) and just stick with the hotel portion if at all humanly possible. 

I had done some research in advance, and since I was in the vicinity, as well as its being the end of the day (the beginning of the night), thought I would pop into the bar for a drink.  Alas, it was smokier than Marlboro Country itself and there was a wait, so I passed on it, but not before finding there was another bar just down across the way, which was just as atmospheric, had the same specialty cocktail (The Tokyo Station Hotel Cocktail), and best of all was that nobody was smoking.

A drink was exactly what the doctor ordered.

hidden in the dark, there was i with my cocktail.

Modern in Japan

 Tokyo is full of interesting places, most of which are hidden, not well-known or plain unattended for the most part, and somehow these are the sorts of places in which I happen to be interested in.  I am not sure whether it is a genetic thing, which I highly doubt, but I have long decided to give in to my interests rather than be one of the blind masses (although the allure of the foolish sometimes traps me as well, but I don't often write about it).

One of the places that made my jam packed Tokyo itinerary was the Museum of Modern Japanese Literature, which I recalled from a photograph taken of Kawabata Yasunari in the exhibition catalogue I picked up over twenty years ago.  I never gave it much thought where it was situated, but it turned out it was very close to another spot that was on my schedule.  So, it was obvious that I would make my way there, although I did learn that there is a special Kawabata Memorial area, but only open certain months of the year and I missed out as it is closed December to March.  No problem, as long as I am alive and the museum is still there- I will return.

Something which did not surprise me at all was the attendance at the special exhibit, devoted to poetry. There was only one other person there, surprisingly enough a young woman in her 20s.  Usually at such a place, the attendees are usually in their retirement age.  Lo and behold, as I was leaving, a group of retirees (some sort of tour group) came in.  

I wonder what will happen in the future, as I always do.

The Same, Not the Same (Hotel Okura)

The past weekend found me in the babylon that is Tokyo, and as usual I made every effort to keep well away from what and where most tourists and the general run of foreigners with no taste tend to gather.  To keep in the silent mode, trying to scratch well past the surface of contemporary culture, I went with my partner in crime to have a delightful breakfast at the Hotel Okura, that 50 year reserve of an older time's luxury.  The Orchid Room, likely the best spot in the house (the hotel having a few restaurants and bars), is reminiscent of the Four Seasons Restaurant in terms of ceiling height and spaciousness, and was well worth the morning effort to enjoy a peaceful breakfast before the frenzied adventures that was to come.

Of course, I ordered the eggs benedict. I remain a person who often does the same things, despite the continent. 

My only gripe about the Orchid Room was that it was not jacket and tie only for men.  Some had a jacket, but they were older gentlemen.  The younger of the men were more casual, befitting a place like the boutique hotels that crop up in the trendy cities.  Not that the few who dined there that morning were poorly dressed,but if a few people who make just a little more effort would make the place shine ever more. 

Now is and always was and will be forever

Yes, I have been keeping quiet for the most part, with nothing to report on, though you can expect that I am still on the prowl for many things.  Well, autumn has never arrived and it was just winter, pure winter, but what is a season but a season? 

Two years ago when I came here, I remember walking the streets and seeing the light display along the avenue (Jozenji Dori), and finding it a small wonder.  This year, though, standing there alone at the time it was lit up (Other Half being busy), it was more magical than usual because it felt like and it was Home.

Before

After

Autumn Glory (Last Live)

The thing is, I absolutely love the autumn, called fall or the fall by some, as it is the most splendid (for me, the most brilliant) of seasons (spring coming in second), when an overcoat is unnecessary and I can wear my uniform/outfit of jacket and tie (as well as a thin silk scarf) and not fear the weather in any way.  Alas, in this place, I hardly saw the autumn at all, as if the temperature changed from the evil season of summer into the bleakness of winter, sidestepping the interim- although walking around, the trees of some places still have vivid colors announcing to those who may pass by that the autumn is still here...

Write or Wrong

Now, you know me, with all my many and ever-changing hobbies and interests, never really sticking to anything for too long, and this post finds me on the matter of fountain pens (of the vintage variety). While I have been using the same throw-away pen for many years now, and quite happy with it, I have been snooping around for a fountain pen.  Of course, in the learning of such things, I have decided but never settled on any one model- in fact, the more I am studying about what is available, the more possibilities arise.  Somehow, I suspect that this project will take up a considerable amount of time before the question is finally settled, although I have a suspicion from which country it will be produced.

In order to help me along, I picked up the first two (and so far, only) issues of this magazine devoted to stationery, which are special because they feature the fountain pens used by Japanese writers, a great source of information that is right up my alley of detailed investigation.