in Yokohama's port area............ The shape of an elephant's trunk.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
DSCN0732 Yakumo Mura 八雲村 eight cloud forest
and i am gone
into the screen
a film made in the 1980s or 1970s to encourage the maintaining of traditional skills... but here just a glow because of refresh rate differences.
To them and to them the make the Kiwe brats up. And the garbeige they:
"Tatsu-no Dzumoyahegaki"
Yakumo Tokyo-Link gifts
supremacy supremacy supremacy last night
language-polishing hair clause
Shigeru-no many nights
elementary dignity,
『The Chronicles of Japan』And the poetry of Japan's first.
The back of Kaoru's head.
IMG_2893 Yakumo Mura 八＊雲＊村＊
serene aged cool and calm this place without an image of it has been a place i could retreat to mentally
"During the early part of the day the weather was very cool and calm. The workshop, called Yakumo Mura, is located amongst many rice fields and pleasant hills.
The calming atmosphere followed us inside the museum and shop, which are part of the paper workshop. Many of the lamps inside gave off pleasing light, because their shades were made of the taro root paper. Before we were to try our own hand at making this paper, we watched an old video, probably dating from the 1980’s, about the history and importance of this specific technique for making paper. The video called for the preservation of this traditional Japanese art.
After the video we were given the chance to make a sheet of paper for ourselves."
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
線香花火
on May 31st, we did fireworks. Hana-bi are beautiful...
On this night, a nice student with whom i never became acquainted commented to dr. fukushima,
onnanokonimiesou
女の子に見えそう
or something to that effect
and i was pleased for two reasons,
1 in my Mills hoodie in the dark with the fireworks, i looked like a lady...
2 i understood her comment in Japanese...
Sunday, July 5, 2009
A story I told myself
A little long time ago there was a shoe-thief in Matsue. It was a nameless behemoth and loved the oceanic breeze and the oceanic cusps because it too was so empty. Often it avoided street lamps and said: how can the empt generate people, cars, boats, plumpness? Space is space and wherever it is filled? A faith that transcends timeliness and spaceliness? The wooden house and its visitors sought little excepts red bean pastes, and crab miso paste (which does not exist) and above nothing, variety, but theirs was a hard lot, their shoes, which were stolen at 5:07 PM on a Thursday, were ever stolen, constantly being stolen and never being returned. It was not "Who would steal shoes?" Often we ask wrong-oriented questions. The shoe-thief was named Yoshe.
They were great friends with the heart-thief and potato-thief, meeting them atop candles, flag poles, and inside garbage cans. But the incandescent household whose shoes were grafted onto Yoshe's hands, they knew not the shoe-thief.
A long-winded breeze,
scissoring the tween
of grassy succulents.
Once you have gone;
but, yet. Yet but.
Twice you have come.
Loquacious, aqueous zephyr.
How do I smell you how I feel:
hold me all ye who would never.
And you who do ever,
hold me most often.
They were great friends with the heart-thief and potato-thief, meeting them atop candles, flag poles, and inside garbage cans. But the incandescent household whose shoes were grafted onto Yoshe's hands, they knew not the shoe-thief.
A long-winded breeze,
scissoring the tween
of grassy succulents.
Once you have gone;
but, yet. Yet but.
Twice you have come.
Loquacious, aqueous zephyr.
How do I smell you how I feel:
hold me all ye who would never.
And you who do ever,
hold me most often.
Monday, June 22, 2009
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