Until I reached an intimidating speed

I am in Hakata now. My mother was originally from this region.

When I was a kid mother used to take me to the Kyushu Island. Summers in Kyushu had a profound effect on the buildup of my personality. The dialect, distinct and powerful, was a joy to hear and tickling to imitate.

When I look back on those trips on Shinkansen trains, which typically took hours, the transition itself was a joy, and I long for the breath of fresh air they brought.

Nowadays, it is less than two hours on the airplane, and the sense of transition has diminished.

Walking on the Hakata streets at night, I unconsciously looked for signs of change, both internal and external, and shuddered at the absence of the drastic. I needed to run, until I reached an intimidating speed. I've got it here inside still, the wind tells me.

The strange destiny of the Love Theme

It is quite fascinating how a particular piece of culture is accepted on a foreign soil. The Japanese have never understood, for example, how and why the Sukiyaki Song was so well received in the United States, compared to many other popular songs of the days.

The opposite is true, of course. The Japanese have embraced lots of foreign influences, in our own particular way.

The film "Godfather" was released in Japan when I was 10. Although many motifs of the film was beyond my comprehension at that age, the theme tune of the film Godfather ("Speak Softly Love (Love Theme from The Godfather)") struck a cord within me as a child. The powerful melody somehow sound similar to Japanese "Enka" songs, very emotional and full of life.

Through a mysterious process, youngsters in Japan who ride motorcycles as a group adopted the Love Theme as their marching music. These "Hells Angel" youths would use the opening melody of the Love Theme as a fanfare, by putting several music horns on the motorcycle.

Somehow, the image of the motorcycle gangsters dashing through the night streets, with the fanfare of the Love Theme played repeatedly, has entered the popular culture of this nation.

When I think of the strange destiny of the Love Theme thus played out, I cannot help but marvel at the rich and subtle way cultures on the planet are mutually connected and evolve as a organic whole.

Now out in the world

Mystery is generated and deepens when you can experience something at a particular place and time only. Misere, composed by Gregorio Allegri, was one beautiful example. It was only to be heard in the Vatican, at certain special occasions. The copying of the score was forbidden, with the understanding that those violating the embargo will be punished with excommunication.

Then, the young Mozart came along. He was 14. Listening to the Misere in the Sistine Chapel, he later wrote out the entire score from memory. As everybody now knows, Mozart's memories were extraordinary. Mozart had only to make minor corrections on a second visit to the Chapel. It would have been impossible for anybody else to accomplish this feat.

Through the genius of Mozart, the mysterious music of the Vatican was now out in the world. The Pope, after Mozart was summoned to Rome for investigation, praised his musical genius, instead of excommunicating the charming fellow.

Pondering the significance of this famous episode, I wonder if all creative genius is not like it. Bringing to the world a marvelous gem hidden jealously in some obscure corner of the world, only to be experienced by those who were fortunate enough to be in that location by chance. Genius is about highly strung sensitivities and prodigious memories.


Misere of Gregorio Allegri. Made open by the service of Mozart.

As is materialized on his belly front

My best philosopher friend Ken Shiotani is rather big, weighing 120kg according to his recent report. In this slim overconscious civilization, you might think that his belly is rather embarassing to exhibit and see. Actually, quite the opposite is true.

People love to watch Shiotani's belly. What is more, people like to touch it.

When we are chatting in a Tokyo restaurant, as I am a very good friend of his, I can poke Shiotani's belly at any time, in a casual manner. It is rather nice, the rubbery feeling. Shiotani also doesn't seem to mind as he is used to my doing that from student days.

When people observe me doing it, they would like to do the same, and eventually do so, with invariably satisfying results.

Apart from the issue of being politically correct, I strongly suspect that there is something about fat bellies that make people around happy. While naturally concerned about my best friend's health, I respect his way of living, as is materialized on his belly front as well as in his philosophy of time, and doubt, for one, the body fascism that seems to be so rampant today.



Ken Shiotani seen in the front.
In the back you see my another soul friend Takashi Ikegami.
This was on Taketomi island.

Strange dancing.

My body is stoutly built, and my legs are not that long. Therefore, I am not a good one for dancing in the style of ballet.
However, I quite like watching other people dance. Once I went to see Jo Kanamori dance. It was a wonderful performance.

Jo Kanamori leads the dance company Noism. I went to see a Noism performance in their host town of Niigata. I was so inspired by their dancing, that when I returned to my hotel room I began strange dancing.

I tried to imitate what I have seen, but of course my bodily movements fell short. In addition, my dance might have been less of a comic performance compared to the immortal silly walk. Conclusion: Mine was a physical activity without any meaningful purpose.

Undaunted, I keep doing the strange dancing from time to time. Nothing to show. Nobody to see. Just me and the air around me which receives the strange vibe.

The world at large is never to know.

The great novel "Sanshiro" ends thus.

---------
Yoshiro moved closer to Sanshiro. "How do you like 'Woman in Forest?'"
"The title is no good."
"What should it be, then?"
Sanshiro did not answer him, but to himself he muttered over and over, "Stray sheep. Stray sheep."

Soseki Natsume "Sanshiro", translated by Jay Rubin.
-------------

So finally, it was about a painting. To the casual onlooker it is just a painting of a woman with a fan, posing in the forest. It is nothing but the "Woman in the Forest".

To Sanshio alone, the painting is the focal point of his never-to-return youthful wanderings. The encounter with the enigmatic woman, the romance, the agitations, dreams, heartbreaks, and the eventual catastrophe in the form of the marriage of the woman to a total stranger.

The novel starts with the encounter of Sanshiro with Mineko by the pond, and ends with the fulfillment of the creation of the painting in the final scene. The painting hides many secrets and tears under its shining surface.

The intimacy is private, and the world at large is never to know. Nobody is to hear Sanshiro's sighs. Then the novelist comes to the rescue.


The Sanshiro pond in the University of Tokyo Hongo campus, named after the famous novel.
It was by this pond that Sanshiro met Mineko.

Lights, darkness and all.

Drank with my best friends until late at night. Had an early morning, but simply had to stay. There are nights like this when you simply wanted to hang out with your chums.

Thought of leaving in-between, but stayed until the last call was made. Walked out into the Shibuya street. Took a group photo.
Memories of forgone times. Tears, smiles, and visions for the future.

Writing this journal on the way back home. Embracing life. Lights, darkness and all.

Dissonance.

During the course of my life, I sometimes search for dissonance. Consonances are surely beautiful. To drink a good white wine in a sunlit room on a late spring afternoon is an epitome of consonance. On the other hand, disagreeing can be also glorify the soul, whether it is with people, food, music, or painting.

Sometimes, the dissonant experience visits us in a subtle form. take the paintings by Francis Bacon (1909-1992), for example. His paintings makes the onlooker uneasy, as if something is wrong with the painting, or the world, or, more seriously, with ourselves. It is as if elements of rage of disagreement is diluted, and sprinkled all over the place, so that the dissonance in distribution becomes something akin to love.


Self Portrait by Francis Bacon.

Things in the periphery

To encounter new things, you often need to see things in the periphery. The central vision captures things of interest as you understand it now, but the things in the peripheral vision, which might not be of significance for now, might turn out to be life-changing in the end.

So the knack is to see the scenery as a whole, and wait for something to "pop out" from the unconscious into your attention.
What we see is massively parallel in nature. Things are captured in the visual awareness at the same time. Brain's resources as regards attention, perception, cognition, memory, action cannot be allocated to all that are visible at one time. So you need to distribute your concerns diffusely.

How to come to terms with the overflow of the periphery is one of the most essential things in life.

Look at a painting like "Children's Games" by Peter Bruegel the Elder.
Here's a larger file. Notice how things are visible in a massively parallel way. And then let little things tickle you.



Peter Bruegel the Elder. Children's Games. (1560).