After a long while…

It has been a long while since I have posted anything…anywhere. What with the incident in Japan which directly affected me and my family one would have assumed I would have had things to say, things to post. Suddenly I found that all my feelings regarding the environmental and social disaster that struck my country of birth and partial heritage did not warrant posting on any social network. Some things are too personal and I am by nature a cold individual therefore expressing myself to others verbally or by typing was out of the question. It has been my time and I needed to indulge myself in this.

Still, I had to be reasonable and not descend into a chasm from which I may not be able to return and an effort on my part had to be made to climb out of this self-indulgence and stand on two feet again in my world that existed before the tragedy. Therefore, here I am again clawing my way back to the surface and resuming some semblance of my normality.

I bid you all hello once again.

I sit, Lawliet-style, in front of the monitor a changed person. I am still trying to fathom the changes, but as with all changes the lasting effects reveal themselves gradually as I step through this illusion called life. Posting is now necessary to track this progress with each single step. This is now a positive action and the time for revelation has commenced. Patience is now my bedfellow, a cold-comfort friend for a cold heart.

I don’t wish for you a good life or a tragic life. May you all, however, find an instructive life that will advance you. Good and bad are words for the insecure and unrealistic. There is a long history of instructive lessons from my culture. I must absorb deeply my Japanese heritage and advance. Who knows how and when I shall breathe my last. Keep growing all of you and never forget where you have been. Use the compass of reason to never lose sight of moving forward and use your feelings to populate you life’s landscape and add colour to a dead life. Praise yourself for admitting you’re wrong as much as you would admit being right. Everything is relevant. Nothing is real except that which you acknowledge, truth or lies. Be cautious of living some other’s reality no matter how right or attractive it may seem. You owe nothing to anybody, only yourself. Don’t be conned to forfeit this just because other’s want numbers on their side. Remember, you have to live with yourself…born alone, die alone sort of thing. Everything is a lie, including my words. As people with have an extraordinary way of turning lies to truth if we see fit and don’t look back enough to check ourselves. Our path then changes and we exist with the consequences. So, do be careful.

Over and out for now.

Japan

I need some time to deal with what has happened in Japan. Need to seek out some relatives whom I still cannot contact. Much of my family are quietly grieving and I need to be there for them. Some of my friends there are either missing or need comfort.

My eternal funeral has just become a shade darker. This will change me.

My Next Project

Project, hmm, sounds so formal. What it is is I am working on a short story and it has absorbed me for quite a few days now. I just wanna get it right before I show it to you all. I’ve written many times before, but I have never posted anything…ever. So, if any of you give a flip, I would appreciate any constructive criticism you are willing to offer. If you just wanna slag off what I’ve done because you are secretly jealous or intimidated then don’t bother posting anything. I’d either delete your comment, or leave it there so your shame is there for all to see or make a reply that will shoot you down in serious flames. Whatever. I can only improve with keen observation and intelligence on the part of you guys. I think it will take about another week before it is ready. Remember, I am very childish so it is not going to be a mature work, but it will be me. So, wish me luck.

My Uncle

I have this fab uncle: Uncle Toshio. He’s getting on a bit in years but his attitude is unchanged. He’s very stoic and very quiet with old fashioned thick rimmed specs and an expression that seems stony. But he can laugh with the best of them once something tickles him. When I’m around him I can’t stop bowing, and I bow low, and when I do it he looks embarrassed and always waves his hand and shakes his head smiling. He thinks I do it too much but I can’t help it because I am proud of him and I love him.

When I was a little girl and used to see him in Tokyo he would always take the opportunity to tell me stories. Now I guess almost everyone has a relative who tells them stories, but no one tells them like him. He studies folk-tales as a hobby so knows them inside and out, but he also had this way of telling them that pulled me right in. Inflections and facial expressions covered his words with delicious sweetness and thicken the atmosphere he was trying to convey. I would lean against him and be lost for what seemed like hours. I guess it was him that opened the door within me to sensuousness. My love of books and music, scents and weather began with him and when I show him my art or play him my music he still smiles, offers encouraging words and musses my hair as if I were still five years old. He is also a photographer. I have fond memories of him with his cameras and being a perfectionist I remember him taking ages to snap just one picture of a flower. I would encourage him to show me his snaps and was enthralled. Once again, I can trace beck my love of photography to his influence. He’s brilliant.

The big deal here is that he has bought me a camera! It arrived on my doorstep yesterday when I came home from work. I am speechless! He knows I will miss the short days as I do not like the sun so he reckons getting me a camera will give me something to use after work while it is light. I already have a couple of cameras, but not one as good as this! On the phone he said he wants some serious shots of London to send him so I need to get my act together with regards to composition. I want my pictures to make him smile as his made me smile. I can’t wait to get started.

I am very fortunate to have several relatives who influence me positively. I have also been lucky that my family don’t try to steer me in any one direction. They leave me to it and offer advice and criticism, especially criticism! I like criticism and want it to be as constructive as possible. No concerns with protecting my feelings by covering it up with a polite lie. I can see through that and I see it as disrespectful no matter how considerate the person thinks they are being. Abusive criticism obviously doesn’t reach me either. Treat me like this and I won’t bother speaking to you again. Why should I? I’m not a glutton for punishment because of others’ fears and insecurities. Life is essentially meaningless unless you induce some sort of dignity and honour to this big parade. Okay, we can learn and produce works of art and such, but on its own what you produce merely becomes a marketable product. If dignity and honour are included you learn something about yourself: whether it’s knowledge and respect for your gifts, or some internal discipline that you will never lose. Who knows when I will die. I don’t think I will miss anything and welcome death when it comes: it is the beginning of a whole new adventure as vague to us now as being born once was before we were alive. If something can come together enough to make something happen, then it must be a remarkable thing.

Just look at me. I was born human. Just look at all the examples of life that exist in this apparent reality. Being born human is a very rare event and somehow it happened to me. Not by my instigation, but by some ‘other’ thing. Okay, I’m human and all things human are not alien to me. Take all the things within and give them life through action and temper them in your own unique way. That is you. You cannot be anything but you. So do things and learn about yourself. It’s one thing to assume yourself with thoughts, quite another to know through living.

And, yes…my uncle Toshio also opened my eyes to this. 🙂

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What am I doing:

Books: The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini and All Passion Spent by Vita Sackville-West.

Music: The Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Dead Skeletons, The Asteroid #4, Jerome Froese, Tangerine Dream, Neu, Can.

Films: Tetsuo, Shimotsuma monogatari, Saibogujiman kwenchana

Television: Various programmes on sculpture.

Home in the Rain

So tired. So, so tired. Worked very late but was greeted by the rain when I finally left work. Lit a cigarette, plugged in the mp3 and enjoyed, really enjoyed walking home in the rain…and in the dark. I love the darkness and I will be losing this as the days go by and the evening light will be creeping in, so, for now, I shall cherish it.

Arriving nearer home I hoped to see that girl again. Just seeing her uplifts me, but alas, she was nowhere to be found. Got up at the usual 3.45am and watched Kamikaze Girls before showering. Such a good film I can relate to Ichigo. That girl would be Momoko (I wish I hadn’t sold my motorbike now). Did a spell of Tai Chi after the film and focused myself. Got ready, and strolled to work. I want to make a CD for that girl with tracks by The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Spacemen 3, The Asteroid #4, etc. When I see her I shall silently just pass it to her and hope she listens to it. I think she’ll like the music.

In the Dead Garden

I spent such a great couple of hours at Queens Road Cemetery earlier. Got in there the usual way and had my book with me but had to lay down some stuff on the grass so I could sit and keep dry. I leant against this massive headstone and started reading. I have a really old copy of The Catcher in the Rye. It’s the old orange and white Penguin version from the mid-fifties. Whatever, I just sat there reading for a while. I think only two people walked by the whole time, but I never looked up.

I started thinking about that girl again. Wish she would walk through this cemetery and sit with me. We wouldn’t talk, just sit together and listen to the birds and shit. Yeah, I could really dig that. Well, it didn’t happen tonight. So it got darker and darker and I saw some headlamps light up the little avenue that leads to the chapel. Sure enough it was the guy who locks up so I hid behind another stone and waited. I didn’t want to go home yet and it’s even cooler to be locked in that place. The guy went and I had the whole place to myself. I moved over to one of the big trees and leaned against that and looked up. I could hear the traffic on Pawsons Road better now and the tangle of branches and the smell of damp wood was really nice to me. I wish I could see some stars. Too many lights.

I didn’t stay too much longer. I grabbed my stuff and made for the fence. I knew it would be a pain climbing it, but I’d done it before. Just have to be wary of the spikes. One slip in my wet boots and I could get impaled like that American kid in the photograph on Bestgore.com. Was over and walked up Princess Street dragging my feet and smoking cigarettes. Didn’t pass one person – nice.

She walks with…oh yeah!

I hate this town! Unless the hundreds of good people are hiding, I am surrounded by so many ignorant, dead tyrants. I mean, like, these ‘normal’ streetpeepz who seem so harmless and good to each other turn into instant fascists when someone like me comes along. And what’s so special about me? All I am armed with to threaten their lives are a crazy haircut and crazy clothes. Yeah, so I am also hugely antisocial, but that’s something you find out gradually. The reactions I am talking about are the ones streetpeepz instantly give me. Hmm…I’m also pretty ugly so I suppose that might wind people up a bit too. 😀

The great thing lately is I have seen someone in my town who really is different. She is so damn cool to watch! I haven’t spoken to her yet but she knows I exist because she, like, gave me a double-take. She, like, shines out so much! Wish I knew exactly how I felt right now. I’m just, sort of, buzzing you know. She looks so beautiful to me. I know it’s not love or anything I am feelin. I am lez and I have dated other women before so it’s safe to say I know the difference between love and, like, admiration, but admiration doesn’t seem to be the right word. I want to know her name for some reason. I want to go up to her and say, “I’m Tsukiko. Who are you?” but the thought of doing that openly makes me feel uncomfortable so that’s not going to happen soon.