Blur return
Back in the Evergreen State - tripped out between worlds. I've almost been here a week and I am still not over the jet lag and cultural forgottens.
(Everything really
is BIG in America.)
Highlights:Stepping down Broadway with the ever-dynamic Christy Kyllo scopin' out the changes and chatting with her hoards of friends that line the streets. We indulged each other with chocolate mousse and stories of love and (in)discretions at Dilettante. My SweetPsychoSister is saturated with satisfaction and joy at her upcoming marriage to hottie
Jason Powers. It's very warm in her glow these days.
Beers at maritime with a surreal crew of old high school friends who just happened to stroll on in. Of course the big star and sole reason for my presence at the bar under the bridge was beloved friend
Randy. We hung with the crowd for a reasonable amount of time, then vamoosed for some late night walking ramblings and finger pointing shesaid/hedid bantering that we are so good at. Randy and I have jived well since high school (conveniently forgetting the few years after when he broke my girls' hearts and he lived in fear that I would bite his head off - of course, his story is different). I still get wrapped up in this boy's slip stream. Come to Japan, dear Randy. Let's lock ourselves in the Kotoen apartment and not emerge until we have finished our *promise to be better than woody's* script. The trouble we cause is rather gorgeous. Wouldn't you agree?
Watching little Kiomye (re)discover America. "Hold hands in the parking lot, Kiomye. Oh... um,
this is a parking lot." Since movies are so cheap here I took her to a matinee of Madagascar and she was fully awed with the big screen experience. She thinks the parks here are heaven (which they are compared to the post-apocalyptic disappointments of Japan's parks) and still circles her eyes wide when the kid's answer her back in English.
Then today relaxing in the sun with my unrequited, pretending to be chill and unaffected. (He knows otherwise.) Chatting in circles around the topics that strike me too deep, then striking out at the last good-bye moment because really I just can't help myself.
Sorry for raising my voice. Thank God for Europeans that kiss hello, or else I still wouldn't be completely convinced of your physical proximity.
Note to Dan: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. (and hurry back to Seattle) (and Everyone and their mother says hello)
Note to Abby: I'm still not processing a good-bye yet. Girl's night is just around the corner, right?
Note to Yuuki: Good luck with the translations of this madness. I hope your tunes arrived.
Note to Amanda: I'm calling tomorrow!!!
This is all reading like a bad high school year book scribbling. I wonder what my friends back in Japan will make of it.
For all interested parties...
Kiomye and I arrived safely in the U.S. yesterday afternoon. We're now resting at my mom's house and gearing up for the whirlwind month ahead of us. Last night, we slept 18 hours. 18!!!!
Hey locals: If you haven't heard from me yet, you will soon.
Slightly out of focus, but adorable nonetheless!
Kiomye in her super kawaii Japanese yukata. Charm Attack level 104.
Fun 'n' stuff
These last few days before I depart the land of the rising sun are proving to be tightly packed with various excitements. On Friday Colin Powell came to speak at my school. Yes, that's right. I secured a very diffult to get ticket. Did I go? No. I made a VERY bad choice and missed the big speech in order to fully experience the dissapointment of missed expectations. (Yes, there is a story there. No, I won't tell it here.)
I recovered Saturday by spending my time playing with the ever-so-charming Kiomye. In the evening, we collected Abby and went to a great conveyor-belt sushi place. Kio was in great behavior and gobbled up the raw fish placed before her. We indulged our shopping habits at the hyaku yen store, then ended the evening eating ice cream from Baskin Robbins and watching Kiomye cast spells on passerby's with her new magic heart wand.
On Sunday, I met up with Toshiya (The extremely talented mandolin player of Parrish). We had lunch and he gave me some of the band's CDs. They had done a special printing for me that featured my name on the disk cover. They all also signed the inside. VERY sweet.
(Thank you! Thank you! Thank you Parrish!!!) After lunch, we strolled over to Tower and I got an old Doc Watson CD for Toshiya that is full of songs my mother used to play on her guitar when we went camping. It was a very enjoyable afternoon. Toshiya is good company.
Later I met up with my friend Yoshi (who is Japanese, but speaks excellent English with a VERY strong Australian accent which totally messes with my head). We rode the trains to Suma Beach in Kobe to the live music show on the sand. Once the vicious sun sank below the mountains and the breeze blew in from the harbor, the evening felt perfect. The first band was a cover band that played Red Hot Chilli Peppers very poorly and failed at creating audience response. Luckily, they were followed by some excellent Flaminco dancers and a Samba band. We drank corona and danced in the sand. I came home exhausted and happy.
Today is the last offical day of the school term. There was a ceremony this morning. There will be a meeting this afternoon and , of course, another meeting this evening. Then I am DONE until September. YEA!!! I love teaching. It's fabulous.
A pretty boy sleeping on Suma Beach before the Samba dancing kicked in.
Beautiful stream in the middle of the herb garden.
From inside the ropeway car.
Yes, this is gorgeous. Is it worth missing Colin Powell's speech. Um, NO!
Inside the glass house atrium in Kobe.
It's SUMO time!
My intense love for sumo thrills and delights me on this steamy day. I watch not the clash of titans, but the hungry scramblings of adolescent boys - my sweet studious junior high students. The drama is all the more palpable. The mawashis won't stay appropriately placed - causing the boys to tug and pull at the sidelines. Then the fateful moment arrives and is over in a just a few seconds. The overcome offer sheepish grins to their classmates and the triumphant flash surprise and pride across their features.
Most of these children move like string cheese - flailing their gangly limbs this way and that. Occasionally contenders with actual measurable amounts of flesh will mount the ring. The waiting students stop joking and playing and tugging at their mawashis. They focus their eyes on the performing students and yell and cheer. Sometimes, through a slight of fate, a pairing occurs with an obvious mismatch of strength and bulk. The kids laugh and holler. The smaller boy in the ring smiles, his eyes wide. What is interesting is that in these unequal pairins, one time out of three the slight boy will conquer. A twist of the hips, a false footing can be manipulated to full advantage. Both sides clap when such an upset occurs.
Enjoy the photos....
The Ring
Set-up
Great Sumo pose
Some kids are very scrawny.
good match
Another good match
Getting ready for sumo
Modeling the mawashi and waiting for his match.
Sumo Victory
A very cool drawing that Abby did with glass markers on my balconey door.
Kio and I went to a park on the Shukugawa river on a rainy day and she made a friend!
Parrish - The best darn bluegrass band in all of Japan!
The HUGE gaijin crowd at the Honky Tonk bar - thoroughly red-face and happy. (A couple friends are even out of frame.) Once I explained that we aren't all Americans, the band later said on their website that they were visited by the "Colatition Forces". Very funny.
My adorable students while on the train to see the Van Gogh exhibit in Osaka.
One of you has read this before (and I don't care)
Latest bits:
An entire crew of gaijin from where I live has announced intentions of attending the next bluegrass show(this Saturday). They read the mandolin player's blog. They want to see the action. The venue is the size of a closet. I will be hiding under the bar, or behind the imported cow's skull.
Kyoto Candy Club: The drummer was as fascinating to watch as a child playing in the mud. His actual creations were sloppy and lacking, but his wild delight and enthusiastic flailings mesmorized effectively.
Walking along the darkened river in Kyoto's heart, first by the university students lighting fireworks, later under bridges swamped in pregnant shadows - the writer teases me about ghosts, but then jumps when my fingers poke his side.
Seen on the bag of a lovely lady while riding the train to Osaka:
SOFUOL: Sophisicated full length office lady
(I cannot look away or keep the smile off my lips the entire way)
Bach, Outkast, beck, Carmina Burana. Strange tunes fill my head. Lost... on the platform, in the melody streaming from my headphones, in the inky scenes that call me back to blank pages. Fulfill me, feel me. Do I really believe in this extreme, Mr. Camus? The All or Nothing? Medicority never enters the picture. Success or failure. Yet I argue that success is defined in such a hugely encompassing manner so that there is no space between do or die - as really that is the only choice. Do you or don't you? Passive or active? You can change your mind again - if you are strong enough. Doubtful.
My desperate push for oblivion has left me with nothing and now I act like I am surprised. A new empty follows each taste of exaultation. I am so hungry, yet all my resources have been spent.
The absurdity of longing makes me laugh out loud in the ramen aisle of the supa-coop. Stupid Gravely Beach. Stupid Pacific Ocean.
Each man was remarkable. At least that much was true. Does that make me remarkable? A deep blue nothing surrounds me - how foolish I am.
Yet still, I am.
While chasing oblivion I stumbled upon the solid core of myself.
Shock.
