The healthiness of one's brain can pretty well be judged by whether one embraces the uncertainties in life with pleasure.
A kid has great expectations for the future. On the night before the school trip, for example, it is not uncommon for a kid to be so excited that it is difficult to sleep. It is not that those school outings are going to be anything great in actuality. It is just the expectations that brings the children into the cosmos of the infinities.
As one grows older, this great ability of being excited over the unknown is gradually lost. The future becomes mundane. There, the decline of the brain health starts.
Looking forward to the unknown, no matter how small it might be, is a great way to keep your brain young and up.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
On intolerance
Much as I respect and love my fellow country people, there are some tendencies recently in Japan that I cannot go along.
One thing is the spreading of intolerance. It is not that people in Japan are generally intolerant. Far from it. All my trusted friends are quite liberal, and respect the individualities and variances. At best or worst it is a divided nation. It is only that intolerant people are often noisy. And the media follow them without reflections and criticism. Making noise is one of the business models of big media, much to the disservice for the whole community.
Intolerant people are old in spirit. They cannot accept change. They inhibit the creative dynamo of others and themelves. In a society where many people are eagerly applying anti-aging techniques, I sometimes wonder why people do not take the prescriptions for tolerance.
If the wave of intolerance spreads further, everyone loses. Not only does it have a generally intimidating effect on the young and creative, but also the intolerant people themselves lose the most essential brilliance of life.
If, on the other hand, more and more people learn how to be tolerant to individuals of different opinions and value systems, no matter how alien and strange they may appear, everyone would be a winner.
One thing is the spreading of intolerance. It is not that people in Japan are generally intolerant. Far from it. All my trusted friends are quite liberal, and respect the individualities and variances. At best or worst it is a divided nation. It is only that intolerant people are often noisy. And the media follow them without reflections and criticism. Making noise is one of the business models of big media, much to the disservice for the whole community.
Intolerant people are old in spirit. They cannot accept change. They inhibit the creative dynamo of others and themelves. In a society where many people are eagerly applying anti-aging techniques, I sometimes wonder why people do not take the prescriptions for tolerance.
If the wave of intolerance spreads further, everyone loses. Not only does it have a generally intimidating effect on the young and creative, but also the intolerant people themselves lose the most essential brilliance of life.
If, on the other hand, more and more people learn how to be tolerant to individuals of different opinions and value systems, no matter how alien and strange they may appear, everyone would be a winner.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Either way, they have nothing to say about their performance
The Vancouver Olympics is well under way. When I watch the games, when I can that is, I tend to focus on the losers, as well as the winners. Athletes cannot explain their failures away. They have nothing to say about their performance. They just do it, based on the skills and experiences that they have acquired over the years through arduous training, and they just accept the results as they come, no matter what nature. If they lose, they quietly fade away. If they win, they enjoy the transient spotlight. Either way, they have nothing to say about their performance, as everything is over once the competition time is up.
As the world become increasingly talkative, delving into other people's matters and widening the range of one's objects of comments, the athletes in the Olympics provide a refreshing contrast, just concentrating on what their finite bodies can and cannot achieve.
Maybe we should all be like the athletes.
As the world become increasingly talkative, delving into other people's matters and widening the range of one's objects of comments, the athletes in the Olympics provide a refreshing contrast, just concentrating on what their finite bodies can and cannot achieve.
Maybe we should all be like the athletes.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone.
I came to Shimada, Shizuoka. I gave a public lecture in the city auditorium, talking about the brain, life, and mindsets.
After the lecture, I had a break before the evening social events. I strolled the backstreets of Shimada.
It is always such a great pleasure to be lost, or, more precisely, to try to be lost in an unknown city. Narrow streets would meander, and you're led to a new vista, in a metaphorical movement for life itself.
It is so soothing to be released from your everyday social networks, and to be immersed in the soothing radiance of the isolation of choice.
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone. Mr. Kawamura came to search for me. I raised my hand to assure my connectedness. We are all connected, through the great darkness that envelop the planet earth in periods.
After the lecture, I had a break before the evening social events. I strolled the backstreets of Shimada.
It is always such a great pleasure to be lost, or, more precisely, to try to be lost in an unknown city. Narrow streets would meander, and you're led to a new vista, in a metaphorical movement for life itself.
It is so soothing to be released from your everyday social networks, and to be immersed in the soothing radiance of the isolation of choice.
During the dinner party even, I strolled onto the night street alone. Mr. Kawamura came to search for me. I raised my hand to assure my connectedness. We are all connected, through the great darkness that envelop the planet earth in periods.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
On Fridays, Crick would take loads of papers with him to read over the weekend.
We hold a weekly journal club. It is called "the Brain Club." I regard the reading of journal papers as an important part of the education for graduate students. At first, it might take even a week to understand the significance of a paper, and present it to the lab members. As you get accustomed to the genre, you start reading the paper very rapidly. When you are thoroughly accustomed, you may be able to read a typical neuroscience paper in 10 minutes, and tell the gist of it to your colleague.
I got my Ph.D at University of Tokyo under the supervision of Dr. Takeyuki (Taki) Wakabayashi. Taki did research a few years at the Medical Research Council laboratory in Cambridge, United Kingdom. Taki used to say that Francis Crick read a lot of papers. On Fridays, Crick would take loads of papers with him to read over the weekend.
Training yourself to read lots of research papers is fun, and I whole-heartedly recommend it to people of high intellectual aspirations. Nowadays, it is very easy to do, as many papers are available on the internet for free. You don't have to belong to a university, or any institution whatever.
I got my Ph.D at University of Tokyo under the supervision of Dr. Takeyuki (Taki) Wakabayashi. Taki did research a few years at the Medical Research Council laboratory in Cambridge, United Kingdom. Taki used to say that Francis Crick read a lot of papers. On Fridays, Crick would take loads of papers with him to read over the weekend.
Training yourself to read lots of research papers is fun, and I whole-heartedly recommend it to people of high intellectual aspirations. Nowadays, it is very easy to do, as many papers are available on the internet for free. You don't have to belong to a university, or any institution whatever.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I always remember the glorious moment for the bass boys.
Nowadays, when I work in the morning, I listen to Messiah of George Frideric Handel. It is one of my all-time favorite pieces of music.
When I was a senior high student, we practiced the Hallelujah chorus. I was a bass. All the good parts are taken by the soprano and tenor. There was, however, one passage where the bass went solo.
"And he shall reign forever and ever"
For this particular line, the bass went first, and then the other vocal parts followed. We the bass boys were naturally very proud of it, and waited eagerly for that eternal moment.
Messiah's music is beautiful all through, and I can only marvel at the genius of Handel. When it comes to the Hallelujah chorus, I always remember the glorious moment for the bass boys. There is at least one shining moment in life for an underdog.
When I was a senior high student, we practiced the Hallelujah chorus. I was a bass. All the good parts are taken by the soprano and tenor. There was, however, one passage where the bass went solo.
"And he shall reign forever and ever"
For this particular line, the bass went first, and then the other vocal parts followed. We the bass boys were naturally very proud of it, and waited eagerly for that eternal moment.
Messiah's music is beautiful all through, and I can only marvel at the genius of Handel. When it comes to the Hallelujah chorus, I always remember the glorious moment for the bass boys. There is at least one shining moment in life for an underdog.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The whole process of ordering, eating, and then leaving would fall into a jazzy pace
Just outside the ticket gate of Ginza subway station in central Tokyo, there's a curry restaurant that I like. I have been the customer there since my university days. It is not a fanciful place. Just an ordinary establishment, where the curry and rice is served quickly, as you order them at the counter and wait.
I used to go to the Kabuki theater and nearby cinemas often as a student. When you are alone and hungry, you would like to get done with the ritual of filling your stomach quickly, without any fuss. At such occasions, the curry place would be a prime choice, where the whole process of ordering, eating, and then leaving would fall into a jazzy pace.
In and out of Tokyo, I have several places like the Ginza curry restaurant, my solitary meal destinations. I used to go quite often to a yakisoba restaurant in Ueno station, which is close to my old university. The yakisoba place was just beside the stairs, and you would buy tickets before ordering. As you waited for the culinary delight to arrive, watching the cooks using large forks and tongs, your expectations would grow. As I remember the place, noises and smells and the whole atmosphere come back so vividly.
Sadly, the Ueno restaurant is no longer with us, after the huge renovation the station went through several years ago. There is
now a Hard Rock cafe near the ancient yakisoba restaurant place.
I used to go to the Kabuki theater and nearby cinemas often as a student. When you are alone and hungry, you would like to get done with the ritual of filling your stomach quickly, without any fuss. At such occasions, the curry place would be a prime choice, where the whole process of ordering, eating, and then leaving would fall into a jazzy pace.
In and out of Tokyo, I have several places like the Ginza curry restaurant, my solitary meal destinations. I used to go quite often to a yakisoba restaurant in Ueno station, which is close to my old university. The yakisoba place was just beside the stairs, and you would buy tickets before ordering. As you waited for the culinary delight to arrive, watching the cooks using large forks and tongs, your expectations would grow. As I remember the place, noises and smells and the whole atmosphere come back so vividly.
Sadly, the Ueno restaurant is no longer with us, after the huge renovation the station went through several years ago. There is
now a Hard Rock cafe near the ancient yakisoba restaurant place.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The remarkably late realization on the part of Rick
Now I am back in Tokyo. Reflecting on my encounter with Rick Baron, I think the most remarkable fact was that although Rick is gifted with this most astonishing ability to recall autobiographical memories, he is at the same time good at social skills, and warm to people. In other words, there is no apparent effect of "trade-offs" in his overall cognitive skills.
I think this fact had partly to do with the remarkably late realization on the part of Rick (two years ago) that his special talent is something rare in this world. Indeed, there are only four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia so far. Because Rich Baron is such a nice and "normal" person, nobody including himself suspected that his brain was so special.
The crew from Fuji television filming Rick Baron.
I think this fact had partly to do with the remarkably late realization on the part of Rick (two years ago) that his special talent is something rare in this world. Indeed, there are only four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia so far. Because Rich Baron is such a nice and "normal" person, nobody including himself suspected that his brain was so special.
The crew from Fuji television filming Rick Baron.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
It always has a human touch
On the final day in Cleveland, we went to various places with Rick Baron.
About one hour after shopping in a liquor shop, I asked him if there were anything particular that he remembered from the shop. Rick came forward with the list of items we bought, complete with their prices, in a very straightforward and spontaneous manner. I, on the other hand, had only a fuzzy idea about what we have bought, let alone the prices.
The strange thing is that as you get accustomed to Rick's way, you feel as if it is only natural to remember things with precise chronological data. Failure to do so start to look like embarrassing.
One could not learn to perform like Rick by training, though. After spending a few days with Rick Baron, I am convinced that his remarkable memory ability is something that he was born with. It is not an acquirable skill. Even if the trick of retrieving the precise chronological information could be mastered after many years of strenuous efforts, the resulting memory skill would not be in its nature equivalent to Rick's.
In other words, Rick's memories are "personalized". It always has a human touch, and adds warmth to the information he gives away in such a positive and reassuring manner.
Watching the Super Bowl, New Orleans Saints vs. Indianapolis Colts, with Rick Baron in a Cleveland Sports Bar 7th February 2010.
About one hour after shopping in a liquor shop, I asked him if there were anything particular that he remembered from the shop. Rick came forward with the list of items we bought, complete with their prices, in a very straightforward and spontaneous manner. I, on the other hand, had only a fuzzy idea about what we have bought, let alone the prices.
The strange thing is that as you get accustomed to Rick's way, you feel as if it is only natural to remember things with precise chronological data. Failure to do so start to look like embarrassing.
One could not learn to perform like Rick by training, though. After spending a few days with Rick Baron, I am convinced that his remarkable memory ability is something that he was born with. It is not an acquirable skill. Even if the trick of retrieving the precise chronological information could be mastered after many years of strenuous efforts, the resulting memory skill would not be in its nature equivalent to Rick's.
In other words, Rick's memories are "personalized". It always has a human touch, and adds warmth to the information he gives away in such a positive and reassuring manner.
Watching the Super Bowl, New Orleans Saints vs. Indianapolis Colts, with Rick Baron in a Cleveland Sports Bar 7th February 2010.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Rick, you are better even than google!
In the radio station, Rick Baron took phone calls from the listeners, who challenged Rick to say what day of the week it was, and what events happened, on the specific day that they quoted, most often their birthdays. Rick unfailingly told them the correct day of the week, and some memorable events on that particular day. When the day happened to be "quiet", Rick offered to mention events that happened prior to, or just after, the date quoted.
At present, we do not understand the details of the mechanisms of memory encoding and retrieval in the human brain. And yet, the existence of an outstanding individual like Rick Baron is a certain testimony of the capability of the human memory circuit. It shows that, given appropriate wirings, it is possible to be a "memory genius" like Rick, being able to retain and then retrieve at will the details of one's life in a precise chronological order.
Given the long period over which human memory system has evolved, one wonders why for most of us the memory system fails, in that it is unable to do the feat that is so natural for an person like Rick Baron. For some unknown reasons, the human brain seems to have chosen not to optimize its retention abilities, in order to achieve a balanced state of functionalities. There are likely to be trade-offs.
On the 2nd day, we visited Rick's house again.
Rick has several glass and porcelain objects of elephants with their trunks pointing upwards on the glass table in the living room. When asked for their significance, Rick mentioned that they were originally meant to wish good luck for his mother, who was ill at that time. The geometrical accuracy with which Rick spatially arranged these things were truly remarkable. And not only the elephants. Chairs, paper towels, clothes, glasses, cups, photo stands, pictures, shoes. It was apparent that Rick paid attention to the details of the spatial arrangement of things.
Sitting in his room, looking at the items placed in a meticulous order, one gets a feeling which could only described as a sense of awe, in the presence of the workings of a remarkable mind. You almost feel as if you are in a shrine, where things bear significance of things other than earthly functionalities.
As we asked Rick to perform further sets of tests, the extent of his remarkable autobiographical memory became more apparent. A casual conversation led to Rick's remark that we could name any "niche" subject, and Rick would give accurate chronological information on that.
"When did you first fly on an airplane?" I asked. Rick chuckled, and then went on to describe his life's very first airborne travel with the date and the day of the week provided. Not only that, he went on to list the subsequent flights, cities of origin and destinations, complete with the date and the day of the week.
As we remained silent in admiration of this sparkling intellectual stunt, Rick continued his demonstration, by recalling the films he has seen, music he has heard, and people he has met, with a perfect chronological order.
In one session, we chose a random date by throwing a dart on a calendar of the past 40 years. When the dart landed on, say, 14th June 1978, we asked Rick what happened on that date. Rick would start bursting with information. Meanwhile, a few staff members tried to verify what Rick said by conducting a search on the internet.
When the incident that Rick mentioned was a historic event, it was easy to confirm its truth by the internet. Even so, it sometimes took painfully long to affirm Rick's claims. Becoming impatient, Rick kept saying "you know you must take my words. You cannot make up history".
Memories of personal experiences such as going to see the films were naturally difficult to confirm. In these cases, we had to literally take Rick's words as they were, although the natural way in which he came forward with the information was convincing in itself.
Most interesting were the cases where Rick remembered things which could be confirmed in principle, but were difficult to do so in practice even using the vast data now being accumulated on the internet.
For example, Rick mentioned that he saw an episode of "Honeymooners" on October 20th 1962, the present blog writer's birthday. Rick said that it was broadcast as part of a show. He was about 5 years old then. In such a case, it should be in principle possible to verify Rick's claim by objective records. However, it is not certain whether a record exists of the television programming in Cleveland area on that particular day, such a long time ago. In such a case, what Rick remembers should be more detailed and (presumably) accurate compared to what is currently available on the web.
"Rick, you are better even than google!" I finally exclaimed. At this, Rick Baron laughed with his characteristic big smile.
Photos of the Rick Baron Interview.
At present, we do not understand the details of the mechanisms of memory encoding and retrieval in the human brain. And yet, the existence of an outstanding individual like Rick Baron is a certain testimony of the capability of the human memory circuit. It shows that, given appropriate wirings, it is possible to be a "memory genius" like Rick, being able to retain and then retrieve at will the details of one's life in a precise chronological order.
Given the long period over which human memory system has evolved, one wonders why for most of us the memory system fails, in that it is unable to do the feat that is so natural for an person like Rick Baron. For some unknown reasons, the human brain seems to have chosen not to optimize its retention abilities, in order to achieve a balanced state of functionalities. There are likely to be trade-offs.
On the 2nd day, we visited Rick's house again.
Rick has several glass and porcelain objects of elephants with their trunks pointing upwards on the glass table in the living room. When asked for their significance, Rick mentioned that they were originally meant to wish good luck for his mother, who was ill at that time. The geometrical accuracy with which Rick spatially arranged these things were truly remarkable. And not only the elephants. Chairs, paper towels, clothes, glasses, cups, photo stands, pictures, shoes. It was apparent that Rick paid attention to the details of the spatial arrangement of things.
Sitting in his room, looking at the items placed in a meticulous order, one gets a feeling which could only described as a sense of awe, in the presence of the workings of a remarkable mind. You almost feel as if you are in a shrine, where things bear significance of things other than earthly functionalities.
As we asked Rick to perform further sets of tests, the extent of his remarkable autobiographical memory became more apparent. A casual conversation led to Rick's remark that we could name any "niche" subject, and Rick would give accurate chronological information on that.
"When did you first fly on an airplane?" I asked. Rick chuckled, and then went on to describe his life's very first airborne travel with the date and the day of the week provided. Not only that, he went on to list the subsequent flights, cities of origin and destinations, complete with the date and the day of the week.
As we remained silent in admiration of this sparkling intellectual stunt, Rick continued his demonstration, by recalling the films he has seen, music he has heard, and people he has met, with a perfect chronological order.
In one session, we chose a random date by throwing a dart on a calendar of the past 40 years. When the dart landed on, say, 14th June 1978, we asked Rick what happened on that date. Rick would start bursting with information. Meanwhile, a few staff members tried to verify what Rick said by conducting a search on the internet.
When the incident that Rick mentioned was a historic event, it was easy to confirm its truth by the internet. Even so, it sometimes took painfully long to affirm Rick's claims. Becoming impatient, Rick kept saying "you know you must take my words. You cannot make up history".
Memories of personal experiences such as going to see the films were naturally difficult to confirm. In these cases, we had to literally take Rick's words as they were, although the natural way in which he came forward with the information was convincing in itself.
Most interesting were the cases where Rick remembered things which could be confirmed in principle, but were difficult to do so in practice even using the vast data now being accumulated on the internet.
For example, Rick mentioned that he saw an episode of "Honeymooners" on October 20th 1962, the present blog writer's birthday. Rick said that it was broadcast as part of a show. He was about 5 years old then. In such a case, it should be in principle possible to verify Rick's claim by objective records. However, it is not certain whether a record exists of the television programming in Cleveland area on that particular day, such a long time ago. In such a case, what Rick remembers should be more detailed and (presumably) accurate compared to what is currently available on the web.
"Rick, you are better even than google!" I finally exclaimed. At this, Rick Baron laughed with his characteristic big smile.
Photos of the Rick Baron Interview.
Rick Baron
I came all the way to Cleveland to meet with Mr. Rick Baron.
Rick's condition is termed "hyperthymesia", where the individual has a remarkable ability to recall his or her autobiographical memory. Researchers at University of California Irvine are investigating the nature of Rick's special abilities. So far, there are four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia in the United States. One of them is Jill Price, who has authored a book describing her experience as someone who cannot forget. Rick Baron is one of the four.
Rick Baron lives in the suburban Cleveland, in a surrounding of typical American residential area. It was a cloudy day in Cleveland. As I left the car, occasional snowflakes were falling from the sky onto my coat.
When I pressed the bell, the door was immediately opened. A well-built gentleman appeared, with a broad smile on his face. I shook hands with Rick Baron.
Once in his house, and after some small talk, I sat down to have the first conversation with Rick.
When I said that I was born on 20 October 1962, Rick smiled. Apparently, it was too easy for him. "You know it was Saturday", he said. "You know what happened two days after you were born?" I shook my head. "No, I have no clue". "It was the Cuban missile crisis", Rick said.
Later, I checked out the facts, and confirmed that on 22nd October 1962, President Kennedy delivered a key public speech in which he declared that " It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the Western Hemisphere as an attack on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union."
When I showed Rick some logos of national football teams, he smiled, again apparently anticipating what I was going to ask. "Is it perhaps too easy for you?" I remarked in advance.
When I pointed to the logo of a blue star, Rick immediately recognized it as the emblem of Dallas Cowboys. Then he went on to explain that Dallas Cowboys won their first Super Bowl title in year blah blah blah , and then in year so and so, citing the exact dates and scores. Then he went on to name the manager of Dallas Cowboys, from the initial appointee onwards.
"This is apparently a piece of cake for you," I said.
"Well, you see, sequential information the easiest for me." Rick answered.
When I pointed to another seal, Rick immediately replied that it was that of New Orleans saints, and went on to do the same feat as he did for Dallas Cowboys.
When I asked him "when did you realize that you had special abilities", Rick replied that he did not until 2007, when a conversation with one of his friends prompted him to contact the researchers at University of California at Irvine. Rick was then tested over the phone whether he was a genuine hyperthymesiac, going through a series of trivia quiz that he successfully passed.
"Isn't it remarkable that you came to realize your talent so late in your life?" I said. Rick shrugged his shoulders.
"It was something so natural to me. I did win in the trivia quiz contests, but that was about all."
The way Rick spoke, it was as if accurately holding all those autobiographical memories was something that was natural to him like breathing and heart beating.
Glancing around in his house, one could not help noticing the meticulous care with which Rich tidied the place, ordering things in a almost perfect symmetrical arrangement.
Later in the evening we followed Rick Baron to 1420 AM WHK radio station, for appearance in the Kelly & Company program, hosted by Tom Kelly. I joined Rick, and made my debut in an English language radio show.
With Rick Baron
With Rick Baron.
With Rick Baron in the WHK radio.
With Rick Baron and Tom Kelly
Rick's condition is termed "hyperthymesia", where the individual has a remarkable ability to recall his or her autobiographical memory. Researchers at University of California Irvine are investigating the nature of Rick's special abilities. So far, there are four confirmed cases of hyperthymesia in the United States. One of them is Jill Price, who has authored a book describing her experience as someone who cannot forget. Rick Baron is one of the four.
Rick Baron lives in the suburban Cleveland, in a surrounding of typical American residential area. It was a cloudy day in Cleveland. As I left the car, occasional snowflakes were falling from the sky onto my coat.
When I pressed the bell, the door was immediately opened. A well-built gentleman appeared, with a broad smile on his face. I shook hands with Rick Baron.
Once in his house, and after some small talk, I sat down to have the first conversation with Rick.
When I said that I was born on 20 October 1962, Rick smiled. Apparently, it was too easy for him. "You know it was Saturday", he said. "You know what happened two days after you were born?" I shook my head. "No, I have no clue". "It was the Cuban missile crisis", Rick said.
Later, I checked out the facts, and confirmed that on 22nd October 1962, President Kennedy delivered a key public speech in which he declared that " It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the Western Hemisphere as an attack on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union."
When I showed Rick some logos of national football teams, he smiled, again apparently anticipating what I was going to ask. "Is it perhaps too easy for you?" I remarked in advance.
When I pointed to the logo of a blue star, Rick immediately recognized it as the emblem of Dallas Cowboys. Then he went on to explain that Dallas Cowboys won their first Super Bowl title in year blah blah blah , and then in year so and so, citing the exact dates and scores. Then he went on to name the manager of Dallas Cowboys, from the initial appointee onwards.
"This is apparently a piece of cake for you," I said.
"Well, you see, sequential information the easiest for me." Rick answered.
When I pointed to another seal, Rick immediately replied that it was that of New Orleans saints, and went on to do the same feat as he did for Dallas Cowboys.
When I asked him "when did you realize that you had special abilities", Rick replied that he did not until 2007, when a conversation with one of his friends prompted him to contact the researchers at University of California at Irvine. Rick was then tested over the phone whether he was a genuine hyperthymesiac, going through a series of trivia quiz that he successfully passed.
"Isn't it remarkable that you came to realize your talent so late in your life?" I said. Rick shrugged his shoulders.
"It was something so natural to me. I did win in the trivia quiz contests, but that was about all."
The way Rick spoke, it was as if accurately holding all those autobiographical memories was something that was natural to him like breathing and heart beating.
Glancing around in his house, one could not help noticing the meticulous care with which Rich tidied the place, ordering things in a almost perfect symmetrical arrangement.
Later in the evening we followed Rick Baron to 1420 AM WHK radio station, for appearance in the Kelly & Company program, hosted by Tom Kelly. I joined Rick, and made my debut in an English language radio show.
With Rick Baron
With Rick Baron.
With Rick Baron in the WHK radio.
With Rick Baron and Tom Kelly
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Pet Relief Area.
We were originally bound for Washington D.C. Then, at Narita airport, the ANA receptionist told us that air traffic was expected to be disrupted around Washington, due to the forecasted heavy snow. She kindly suggested would we like to travel to Chicago instead, from where we could make connections to Cleveland, our final destination.
This kind of contingency in travel is always enjoyable. I spent the half hour or so waiting for our ticket transfer typing on my laptop on the airport counter.
In Chicago, we found a Chili restaurant. It was morning time in the United States. Expecting to be fed some spicy food, we were disappointed to find that only breakfast menus were available. The coffee was quite enjoyable, though. I guess American coffees are on a steady trend of improvement.
Having arrived in Cleveland, while waiting for the car to start, I am writing this journal.
Just outside the terminal building, I found one interesting sign. It said "Pet Relief Area". Intrigued, I followed the arrows. As expected, there was a small grassland area, where you could find some pet droppings. Smile crossed my mouth as I imagined how relieved these small loved ones must have been, after having gone through the ordeal of an airborne trip.
Now we are going to down town. Our adventure starts here.
Pet Relief Area Sign
Pet Relief Area Grassland.
This kind of contingency in travel is always enjoyable. I spent the half hour or so waiting for our ticket transfer typing on my laptop on the airport counter.
In Chicago, we found a Chili restaurant. It was morning time in the United States. Expecting to be fed some spicy food, we were disappointed to find that only breakfast menus were available. The coffee was quite enjoyable, though. I guess American coffees are on a steady trend of improvement.
Having arrived in Cleveland, while waiting for the car to start, I am writing this journal.
Just outside the terminal building, I found one interesting sign. It said "Pet Relief Area". Intrigued, I followed the arrows. As expected, there was a small grassland area, where you could find some pet droppings. Smile crossed my mouth as I imagined how relieved these small loved ones must have been, after having gone through the ordeal of an airborne trip.
Now we are going to down town. Our adventure starts here.
Pet Relief Area Sign
Pet Relief Area Grassland.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Cleveland
I am bound for Cleveland, Ohio, U.S.A. today. It is on a great lake, and is characterized by freezing weather in winter, or so I hear.
I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but that is exactly what excites me. Nothing is more enjoyable in life than a pure surprise, and I suppose Cleveland would be full of them.
I will post my encounters as they come along in this space, once I am over there in the new world.
I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but that is exactly what excites me. Nothing is more enjoyable in life than a pure surprise, and I suppose Cleveland would be full of them.
I will post my encounters as they come along in this space, once I am over there in the new world.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Decouple one's learning process from the social contexts and make it grow rapidly
The Japanese economy is experiencing a prolonged period of depression, starting from the bust of the bubble economy. Some have even called the past two decades as "the lost 20 years."
Because the human brain is well developed and capable of adapting to the environment, it is possible and natural that the Japanese people are experiencing days of low key mentality. The coupling of the national economy and the sentiments of the individuals in this way, however, is certainly not something inevitable.
It is entirely possible to "decouple" one's mental activities from those of the nation. One could have one's own brain "grow" at a high rate, despite the fact that the economy in general is in stagnation.
The leaning process of the brain is open-ended, and one is certainly able to keep learning, as the study materials have become more or less free with the advent of the internet.
The single important wisdom for anyone in today's world, whether living in Japan or anywhere else, is to decouple one's learning process from the social contexts and make it grow rapidly, to achieve one's hidden potentials.
Because the human brain is well developed and capable of adapting to the environment, it is possible and natural that the Japanese people are experiencing days of low key mentality. The coupling of the national economy and the sentiments of the individuals in this way, however, is certainly not something inevitable.
It is entirely possible to "decouple" one's mental activities from those of the nation. One could have one's own brain "grow" at a high rate, despite the fact that the economy in general is in stagnation.
The leaning process of the brain is open-ended, and one is certainly able to keep learning, as the study materials have become more or less free with the advent of the internet.
The single important wisdom for anyone in today's world, whether living in Japan or anywhere else, is to decouple one's learning process from the social contexts and make it grow rapidly, to achieve one's hidden potentials.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
While my fondest memories would ever remain with the small time things
When I was hearing the NHK radio this morning, the news reader said that the Vancouver Olympics was just nine days away.
Then I suddenly realized that my favorite town is going to be in the spot light very soon.
My fond memories of the town was associated with festivities from the beginning. One day, Verna took me with Randy and Trevor to the PNE parade. At that time, I had no idea what "PNE" stood for. Later, the knowledge came to me that PNE actually stood for "Pacific National Exhibition". It was a parade of people in colorful costumes, with dragons and other fantastic entities entertaining people as they went along the street.
Then came the Expo 86. I happened to visit Vancouver there at that time. The seaside areas was transformed beyond recognition, and my favorite town appeared somewhat enchanted and a little distant.
Now I am waiting with my heart beating, to see how Vancouver would be transformed in the aftermath of the Olympics. It would surely put Vancouver on the map, big time, while my fondest memories would ever remain with the small time things, like the trips to Dairy Queen restaurants when Verna treated us with chocolate dipped ice cream.
Then I suddenly realized that my favorite town is going to be in the spot light very soon.
My fond memories of the town was associated with festivities from the beginning. One day, Verna took me with Randy and Trevor to the PNE parade. At that time, I had no idea what "PNE" stood for. Later, the knowledge came to me that PNE actually stood for "Pacific National Exhibition". It was a parade of people in colorful costumes, with dragons and other fantastic entities entertaining people as they went along the street.
Then came the Expo 86. I happened to visit Vancouver there at that time. The seaside areas was transformed beyond recognition, and my favorite town appeared somewhat enchanted and a little distant.
Now I am waiting with my heart beating, to see how Vancouver would be transformed in the aftermath of the Olympics. It would surely put Vancouver on the map, big time, while my fondest memories would ever remain with the small time things, like the trips to Dairy Queen restaurants when Verna treated us with chocolate dipped ice cream.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
I did not need to wear the color any more.
At one time in my life, I quite liked the color orange. To me then, the color seemed to represent vivacity and free thinking. I actually wore orange clothes. My friends laughed at me.
Then, I think the process of internalization started. the color orange started to penetrate into the core of my soul. I learned to live orange, rather than to wear it, and after the learning process was over, I did not need to wear the color any more.
I wonder if a similar process of internalization happened when as a kid, up to 4 or 5 years, I quite fancied the color red, and then ceased to have red items all of a sudden one day.
Then, I think the process of internalization started. the color orange started to penetrate into the core of my soul. I learned to live orange, rather than to wear it, and after the learning process was over, I did not need to wear the color any more.
I wonder if a similar process of internalization happened when as a kid, up to 4 or 5 years, I quite fancied the color red, and then ceased to have red items all of a sudden one day.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Recent tweets
Here are some of my recent tweets.
When your time is up and you fall, you can become a nurse log, and protect and nurture life at large. In forest nothing is lost, even death.
In order to grow, you need to have a root. The difficulty is that the root is invisible and can be quite easily overlooked and ignored.
If humans were able to change shapes like the moon periodically, what a dynamical life would follow. Just imagine that!
The value of diversity, whether biological or cultural, is that you are overwhelmed. You feel small.
To enrich and respect the diversity inside you means that you give up controlling everything. You float on a wave of things.
Having a chat with my philosopher friend Ken Shiotani. Pragmatism is different from utilitarianism, he says.
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
When your time is up and you fall, you can become a nurse log, and protect and nurture life at large. In forest nothing is lost, even death.
In order to grow, you need to have a root. The difficulty is that the root is invisible and can be quite easily overlooked and ignored.
If humans were able to change shapes like the moon periodically, what a dynamical life would follow. Just imagine that!
The value of diversity, whether biological or cultural, is that you are overwhelmed. You feel small.
To enrich and respect the diversity inside you means that you give up controlling everything. You float on a wave of things.
Having a chat with my philosopher friend Ken Shiotani. Pragmatism is different from utilitarianism, he says.
http://twitter.com/kenmogi
The color of sea was something very subtle.
So one day in my twenties, I finally made it to Prince Edward Island. If I remember correctly, I flew from Montreal, and had to land twice before reaching Charlottetown.
After a few hours on the island I discovered that the island is a charmer quite independent of the Anne series.
Most enjoyable was the bicycle ride from Cavendish to North Rustico. It was a seaside road, and the wind blew against your face as you sped along. There were few cars, and you felt quite safe.
One in North Rustico, there were loads of restaurants providing the definite local delicacy, lobster. I sat at the table waiting for the lobster, but quite unexpectedly, something quite different finally won the day. The mussels. The steamed mussels were so tasty that I had to have a second helping, despite the fact that the serving was very generous in the first place.
The color of sea was something very subtle. There was this exquisite gradation from the seashore to the offshore, apparently reflecting the combination of effects due to the water surface reflection and the underlying sand, which was famously and in fact red.
After a few hours on the island I discovered that the island is a charmer quite independent of the Anne series.
Most enjoyable was the bicycle ride from Cavendish to North Rustico. It was a seaside road, and the wind blew against your face as you sped along. There were few cars, and you felt quite safe.
One in North Rustico, there were loads of restaurants providing the definite local delicacy, lobster. I sat at the table waiting for the lobster, but quite unexpectedly, something quite different finally won the day. The mussels. The steamed mussels were so tasty that I had to have a second helping, despite the fact that the serving was very generous in the first place.
The color of sea was something very subtle. There was this exquisite gradation from the seashore to the offshore, apparently reflecting the combination of effects due to the water surface reflection and the underlying sand, which was famously and in fact red.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Starting the day thus as an idiot
When I was a senior high school student, I was influenced by the German culture a lot. I loved to (and still love to) listen to the works of Richard Wagner, and avidly read the writings of Nietzsche.
I was over 30 when I finally made it to the land of my fantasies. My virgin landing was made in Munich, the town of King Ludwig II. Munich became my favorite destination, not least because of the National theater where you can appreciate the finest performances of operas.
Among the many things that I enjoyed while being in Munich, I must count beer as the foremost joy. I was surprised that the default ordering unit in many beer houses was one liter. When you sit down, and say "Bier, bitte", they automatically bring this huge thing. Another surprising thing is that you are able to consume the thing somehow.
One of my classics was when I visited the Hofbräuhaus in the morning. I believe it was at 10 a.m. sharp. At this early hour, and it was a weekday, there were already some customers.
I ordered the default beer ("Helles!"), and drank from the heavy glass. I had my favorite pratzel. The salt goes very well with the beer.
By the time I finished my second glass, I was completely red colored and merry. When I stumbled out of the beer house, it was broad daylight. I went into the direction of my next destination, although I don't quite recall what it was.
Starting the day thus as an idiot was one of the best things that I ever did while on road.
I was over 30 when I finally made it to the land of my fantasies. My virgin landing was made in Munich, the town of King Ludwig II. Munich became my favorite destination, not least because of the National theater where you can appreciate the finest performances of operas.
Among the many things that I enjoyed while being in Munich, I must count beer as the foremost joy. I was surprised that the default ordering unit in many beer houses was one liter. When you sit down, and say "Bier, bitte", they automatically bring this huge thing. Another surprising thing is that you are able to consume the thing somehow.
One of my classics was when I visited the Hofbräuhaus in the morning. I believe it was at 10 a.m. sharp. At this early hour, and it was a weekday, there were already some customers.
I ordered the default beer ("Helles!"), and drank from the heavy glass. I had my favorite pratzel. The salt goes very well with the beer.
By the time I finished my second glass, I was completely red colored and merry. When I stumbled out of the beer house, it was broad daylight. I went into the direction of my next destination, although I don't quite recall what it was.
Starting the day thus as an idiot was one of the best things that I ever did while on road.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
In order to explore the vast universe of ramen noodles, I need to have more exposure time
I have several weaknesses in life. One of them is that when I eat ramen noodles, I invariably go for the miso flavor.
I know there are other flavors, such as salt, soy, and tonkotsu. If I had ramen three times a day, I would probably have a fairly balanced diet in terms of the ramen flavors, as I can start with the "secure base" of the miso flavor. As it happens, I cannot have that much bowls of ramen noodles. I am always in a state in which I am hungry for ramen noodles.
When I walk along the streets of Tokyo, I am incessantly on the lookout for ramen noodles. Most of the time I do not make it, as I am too busy or am otherwise occupied or engaged.
So when I finally have a chance to sit down at a ramen restaurant counter, I have a strong urge to choose my very favorite favorite flavor, miso, and satisfy my urge.
In order to explore the vast universe of ramen noodles, I need to have more exposure time.
I know there are other flavors, such as salt, soy, and tonkotsu. If I had ramen three times a day, I would probably have a fairly balanced diet in terms of the ramen flavors, as I can start with the "secure base" of the miso flavor. As it happens, I cannot have that much bowls of ramen noodles. I am always in a state in which I am hungry for ramen noodles.
When I walk along the streets of Tokyo, I am incessantly on the lookout for ramen noodles. Most of the time I do not make it, as I am too busy or am otherwise occupied or engaged.
So when I finally have a chance to sit down at a ramen restaurant counter, I have a strong urge to choose my very favorite favorite flavor, miso, and satisfy my urge.
In order to explore the vast universe of ramen noodles, I need to have more exposure time.
Friday, January 29, 2010
These were the days when I had to form a sentence before I started to speak
During my stay in Vancouver, I went to the Langara college to take English lessons. I used to take the bus, and would ask for "transfers". "Transfer, please" was the first daily colloquial expression that I learned by heart. I remember quite well the strange sweetness of time passage as I waited for the bust to come. The buses were numbered, and I had to take a certain number. When a bus approached with a number that I was waiting for, my breast throbbed with relief.
These were the days when I had to form a sentence before I started to speak, or, when I tried to do it on the spot, the words came out of my mouth only reluctantly and in a clumsy manner. I enjoyed speaking (or rather, to be more precise, trying to speak) in English, all the same.
On the latest visit to Vancouver several years ago, I went to Langara college, to meet myself in the past. The buildings and the campus greens had such a resonance in my heart, until I remembered in a vivid image the linguistically impoverished fifteen years old me walking around with paper bag lunch.
The Langara college campus.
These were the days when I had to form a sentence before I started to speak, or, when I tried to do it on the spot, the words came out of my mouth only reluctantly and in a clumsy manner. I enjoyed speaking (or rather, to be more precise, trying to speak) in English, all the same.
On the latest visit to Vancouver several years ago, I went to Langara college, to meet myself in the past. The buildings and the campus greens had such a resonance in my heart, until I remembered in a vivid image the linguistically impoverished fifteen years old me walking around with paper bag lunch.
The Langara college campus.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
There was something definitely primitive in literally eating "from hand to mouth".
One of the things that I really enjoyed doing in British Columbia was blueberry picking.
Verna took me to the Richmond Nature Park, which was about 10 minutes drive from 7580 Railway Avenue. The Park was a vast extension of shrubs and larger trees, and you could pick up blueberries. Taking the tiny fruits from the boughs and eating them straight away was an incredibly rewarding and enjoyable experience.
Verna explained to me that people were allowed to eat as much blueberries as they liked. Only don't bring bottles, Verna said. You were not allowed to take blueberries back home, to make jam, etc. I thought the regulation was fair enough.
There was something definitely primitive in literally eating "from hand to mouth". There were times in the history of human kind when the wild meant abundance, and the blueberry picking brought back those ancient times.
Verna took me to the Richmond Nature Park, which was about 10 minutes drive from 7580 Railway Avenue. The Park was a vast extension of shrubs and larger trees, and you could pick up blueberries. Taking the tiny fruits from the boughs and eating them straight away was an incredibly rewarding and enjoyable experience.
Verna explained to me that people were allowed to eat as much blueberries as they liked. Only don't bring bottles, Verna said. You were not allowed to take blueberries back home, to make jam, etc. I thought the regulation was fair enough.
There was something definitely primitive in literally eating "from hand to mouth". There were times in the history of human kind when the wild meant abundance, and the blueberry picking brought back those ancient times.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
In a flash, I realized how stupid I had been.
When you are young you do incredibly stupid things from time to time. Incredibly stupid seen with the benefit of hindsight, that is.
When I was roaming in Vancouver at the age of 15, my mind was filled with all these strange ideas.
I was originally drawn to Canada by the "Anne series" written by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Consequently, I was on the look out for anything related to Anne, no matter how faint and irrelevant the connection might be.
There was a shopping center at Oakridge, and once I wandered into it. There, I happened to notice that a store attendant lady was wearing a nametag of "Ann". I think that was the fish shop.
"Oh, your name is Ann", I said. The lady, noticing that I was apparently a young boy from a foreign country and having no idea what I was up to, just answered "Yes", and smiled.
At that moment, I think, something extraordinary happened. I was no longer living in a fantasy land, and was being exposed to the reality of the everyday life. I felt the living throb of the new world through the lady. In a flash, I realized how stupid I had been. The mundane scene of a shopping center appeared to glow in a newly recognized brilliance.
I did not now say "you're name is not spelt with an 'e'", by the way.
When I was roaming in Vancouver at the age of 15, my mind was filled with all these strange ideas.
I was originally drawn to Canada by the "Anne series" written by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Consequently, I was on the look out for anything related to Anne, no matter how faint and irrelevant the connection might be.
There was a shopping center at Oakridge, and once I wandered into it. There, I happened to notice that a store attendant lady was wearing a nametag of "Ann". I think that was the fish shop.
"Oh, your name is Ann", I said. The lady, noticing that I was apparently a young boy from a foreign country and having no idea what I was up to, just answered "Yes", and smiled.
At that moment, I think, something extraordinary happened. I was no longer living in a fantasy land, and was being exposed to the reality of the everyday life. I felt the living throb of the new world through the lady. In a flash, I realized how stupid I had been. The mundane scene of a shopping center appeared to glow in a newly recognized brilliance.
I did not now say "you're name is not spelt with an 'e'", by the way.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Equations for happiness could be simplified
After my initial sojourn in Canada, I repeated the visit several times, and learned to love British Columbia and the surrounding areas.
Life styles are different from country to country. One of the things that I really liked in Canada was the habit of picnic. It was also a very simple and unassuming matter. You simply brought some buns, hamburgers and vegetables. You flame the burgers out in the open, and make a sandwich. The vegetables are put into the dip and eaten straight away. No fuss, no lengthy preparations,
just taking it easy.
I learned from these outings in the parks that equations for happiness could be simplified, uncovering the trembling of the inner self open to the larger world.
And then the sunshine laughs.
Life styles are different from country to country. One of the things that I really liked in Canada was the habit of picnic. It was also a very simple and unassuming matter. You simply brought some buns, hamburgers and vegetables. You flame the burgers out in the open, and make a sandwich. The vegetables are put into the dip and eaten straight away. No fuss, no lengthy preparations,
just taking it easy.
I learned from these outings in the parks that equations for happiness could be simplified, uncovering the trembling of the inner self open to the larger world.
And then the sunshine laughs.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I would like to embrace the clumsy in me, in everybody.
When your English is still clumsy, and you have a small vocabulary, you have a hard time among the native speakers. The most trying is when you are the single foreigner among the patriots. Worse still, in the English speaking world of the Americas people tend to assume that you are a speaker of their language as a default, regardless of your ethnic origin.
The most difficult task is to carry the conversation in a home party, where nobody pays an extra attention to the fact that you're from a country where English is not the first language. Then you develop a set of skills designed to make life comfortable for you and people around.
For example, you develop a skill in which you divert people's attention and direct the conversation with a short sentence.
It is rather like the technique described by Kurt Vonnegut in his essay "A man without a country." I quote:
As I kid I was the youngest member of my family, and the youngest child in any family is always a jokemaker, because a joke is the only way he can enter into an adult conversation. My sister was five years older than I was, my brother was nine years older than I was, and my parents were both talkers. So at the dinner table when I was very young, I was boring to all those other people. They did not want to hear about the dumb childish news of my days. They wanted to talk about really important stuff that happened in high school or maybe in college or at work. So the only way I could get into a conversation was to say something funny. I think I must have done it accidentally at first, just accidentally made a pun that stopped the conversation, something of that sort. And then I found out that a joke was a way to break into an adult conversation.
Kurt Vonnegut, "A man without a country."
When I was in Vancouver in the summer as I was 15, I tried to get into people's conversation with short jokes or "pointers" that make people take attention and smile. When I look back on my desperate efforts I would like to embrace the clumsy in me, in everybody.
The most difficult task is to carry the conversation in a home party, where nobody pays an extra attention to the fact that you're from a country where English is not the first language. Then you develop a set of skills designed to make life comfortable for you and people around.
For example, you develop a skill in which you divert people's attention and direct the conversation with a short sentence.
It is rather like the technique described by Kurt Vonnegut in his essay "A man without a country." I quote:
As I kid I was the youngest member of my family, and the youngest child in any family is always a jokemaker, because a joke is the only way he can enter into an adult conversation. My sister was five years older than I was, my brother was nine years older than I was, and my parents were both talkers. So at the dinner table when I was very young, I was boring to all those other people. They did not want to hear about the dumb childish news of my days. They wanted to talk about really important stuff that happened in high school or maybe in college or at work. So the only way I could get into a conversation was to say something funny. I think I must have done it accidentally at first, just accidentally made a pun that stopped the conversation, something of that sort. And then I found out that a joke was a way to break into an adult conversation.
Kurt Vonnegut, "A man without a country."
When I was in Vancouver in the summer as I was 15, I tried to get into people's conversation with short jokes or "pointers" that make people take attention and smile. When I look back on my desperate efforts I would like to embrace the clumsy in me, in everybody.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I'll beat you up, heat you up, and eat you up!
t was the summer of 1978. I was a freshman at the senior high, and I was being bombarded by Trevor and Randy with English every day.
I sometimes suspect that being exposed to the unrestrained and spontaneous way kids speak might be a necessary process for one's language to mature. When you start learning a foreign language in the restrained and orderly manner typical to an adult, the music of language might remain stagnant.
It then befell on me somehow to cope with the free and dynamic conversation style of Trevor and Randy. After some while, I invented some strategies to counter the dynamo, and make the conversation flow.
I coined some own expressions to impress the kids. Kids respect people with their own words, you know. So I would go, for example, "I'll beat you up", and then follow, "I'll heat you up", and then say, "I'll eat you up", so that the verbs would rhyme.
"I'll beat you up, heat you up, and eat you up!" Trevor and Randy, especially Trevor, got a kick out of my clumsy invention and started to imitate me.
I sometimes suspect that being exposed to the unrestrained and spontaneous way kids speak might be a necessary process for one's language to mature. When you start learning a foreign language in the restrained and orderly manner typical to an adult, the music of language might remain stagnant.
It then befell on me somehow to cope with the free and dynamic conversation style of Trevor and Randy. After some while, I invented some strategies to counter the dynamo, and make the conversation flow.
I coined some own expressions to impress the kids. Kids respect people with their own words, you know. So I would go, for example, "I'll beat you up", and then follow, "I'll heat you up", and then say, "I'll eat you up", so that the verbs would rhyme.
"I'll beat you up, heat you up, and eat you up!" Trevor and Randy, especially Trevor, got a kick out of my clumsy invention and started to imitate me.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Everything was so unexpected.
When I was 15, I traveled to Vancouver. It was summer. That was the first time that I ever went abroad.
Although I had by then studied English for three years at the junior high, my language skill was still poor.
Verna came to pick me up at the Rembrandt hotel. When we arrived at 7580 Railway avenue, two boys dashed towards us. They were Trevor and Randy.
Trevor and Randy wanted to play with me the moment we arrived. So we played the Game of Life. What followed was the most trying time in the history of my learning English as a second language.
Adults make considerations for the fact that I am not a native English speaker.
Kids don't. Trevor and Randy bombarded me with questions and comments like a rapid fire, and I had to respond in kind. The first ever game of life played in English was a milestone in my upbringing.
Everything was so unexpected.
Although I had by then studied English for three years at the junior high, my language skill was still poor.
Verna came to pick me up at the Rembrandt hotel. When we arrived at 7580 Railway avenue, two boys dashed towards us. They were Trevor and Randy.
Trevor and Randy wanted to play with me the moment we arrived. So we played the Game of Life. What followed was the most trying time in the history of my learning English as a second language.
Adults make considerations for the fact that I am not a native English speaker.
Kids don't. Trevor and Randy bombarded me with questions and comments like a rapid fire, and I had to respond in kind. The first ever game of life played in English was a milestone in my upbringing.
Everything was so unexpected.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Please can I have a T.V. show which can be enjoyed in 30 minutes
When I was young I used to have many objections against the so-called blockbuster films from Hollywood. I liked films by Yasujiro Ozu, Andrei Tarkovsky, Ingmar Bergman, Ermanno Olmi, VÃctor Erice, and so on. The more popular ones almost never thrilled my soul, to be honest, cross my heart.
In Tokyo, the films that I love were shown in a few theaters, while the blockbuster films were shown everywhere. I used to walk around the Tokyo streets with my like-minded friends, and complain that I never understood the foundations and rationale for the popularity of these things.
That was then. It is now. I can now see the motives behind the blockbuster films, apart from the obvious one of making money. I admit that good things might come out of the popular trends, though my emotion still resonates with films of minority sensitivities, like the ones I mentioned above.
One thing I realized in the meantime is that I rather like American T.V. series. The discovery came on the airplanes, when I watched the installed video. These T.V. shows, shown typically in the concise duration of 30 minutes or so, were more to my liking than the extended two hours format of the typical Hollywood films. I could appreciate the effort that went into making a concise, slim script which can entertain people in a short time on the air.
I am thus unconsciously always on the look out for good American T.V. shows. There is one important condition, though. The episodes must be self-contained, to be viewed individually. I cannot take the kind of shows which keeps going and going, as a continuous single story. That would be eventually worse than the 2 hours format of the films.
Please can I have a T.V. show which can be enjoyed in 30 minutes more or less, please.
Seinfeld is a typical American T.V. show that I like. The episodes are self-contained.
In Tokyo, the films that I love were shown in a few theaters, while the blockbuster films were shown everywhere. I used to walk around the Tokyo streets with my like-minded friends, and complain that I never understood the foundations and rationale for the popularity of these things.
That was then. It is now. I can now see the motives behind the blockbuster films, apart from the obvious one of making money. I admit that good things might come out of the popular trends, though my emotion still resonates with films of minority sensitivities, like the ones I mentioned above.
One thing I realized in the meantime is that I rather like American T.V. series. The discovery came on the airplanes, when I watched the installed video. These T.V. shows, shown typically in the concise duration of 30 minutes or so, were more to my liking than the extended two hours format of the typical Hollywood films. I could appreciate the effort that went into making a concise, slim script which can entertain people in a short time on the air.
I am thus unconsciously always on the look out for good American T.V. shows. There is one important condition, though. The episodes must be self-contained, to be viewed individually. I cannot take the kind of shows which keeps going and going, as a continuous single story. That would be eventually worse than the 2 hours format of the films.
Please can I have a T.V. show which can be enjoyed in 30 minutes more or less, please.
Seinfeld is a typical American T.V. show that I like. The episodes are self-contained.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A plum blossom seem to symbolize a distant past long forgotten
The other day, walking along a Tokyo street, I noticed that a plum tree had started to bloom. While my mind was being deeply shrouded in the winter atmosphere, nature had already begun the preparation for the rejuvenation in the great cycle of life.
Until several years ago, I used to live near a very large park. It was my custom to go for a jogging there. It took about 15 minutes to go around the park. At one corner, there were tens of plum trees. In the cold weather of January, these trees started to bloom, and gave comfort to the lonely soul which was making physical effort, to no practical avail apart from good health.
Near the plum trees, I sometimes witnessed an old man, with a bicycle on his side. He used to practice singing, with a bottle in his hand. Occasionally, he would drink from the bottle, and go gurgling, apparently in an effort to refresh and enliven his throat.
As I was always running past, I could only take a snapshot vision of this gentleman of this intriguing behavior. When I chanced upon him, I considered it as a bonus.
I wonder if the gurgling gentleman is up and well these days.
As I was passing the plum tree the other day, all these memories came back to me in a flash.
The smell of a plum blossom seem to symbolize a distant past long forgotten.
Until several years ago, I used to live near a very large park. It was my custom to go for a jogging there. It took about 15 minutes to go around the park. At one corner, there were tens of plum trees. In the cold weather of January, these trees started to bloom, and gave comfort to the lonely soul which was making physical effort, to no practical avail apart from good health.
Near the plum trees, I sometimes witnessed an old man, with a bicycle on his side. He used to practice singing, with a bottle in his hand. Occasionally, he would drink from the bottle, and go gurgling, apparently in an effort to refresh and enliven his throat.
As I was always running past, I could only take a snapshot vision of this gentleman of this intriguing behavior. When I chanced upon him, I considered it as a bonus.
I wonder if the gurgling gentleman is up and well these days.
As I was passing the plum tree the other day, all these memories came back to me in a flash.
The smell of a plum blossom seem to symbolize a distant past long forgotten.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
The cloud has already arrived
People talk a lot nowadays about cloud computing. When put in the strictly algorithmic context, there may be many targets and obstacles, still to be reached and dissolved. In terms of the way information is traded between human brains and nurture cultural environment in that process however, the "cloud" has already arrived, if without a resounding fanfare or a vengeance.
When I write this journal, for example, I put the resulting chunk of words into the internet, which the kind-hearted people access and read each day. It may seem a small thing, and it is a small thing in the context of human civilization as a whole, but the trading is here and now, where the like-minded are shrouded by a common medium materialized by the daily communication of information.
The Amazon kindle automatically archives issues of periodicals on the web, relieving the machine of the need to store incrementally heavy information. This is a particularly explicit instance of cloud computing. A similar process is already here for the human brain.
When I write this journal, for example, I put the resulting chunk of words into the internet, which the kind-hearted people access and read each day. It may seem a small thing, and it is a small thing in the context of human civilization as a whole, but the trading is here and now, where the like-minded are shrouded by a common medium materialized by the daily communication of information.
The Amazon kindle automatically archives issues of periodicals on the web, relieving the machine of the need to store incrementally heavy information. This is a particularly explicit instance of cloud computing. A similar process is already here for the human brain.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
You know pragmatism is different from utilitarianism.
I had a chat with my philosopher friend Ken Shiotani over lunch. He was lecturing in Hosei University, and I caught him as he was waiting for the elevator in the hall.
These days, I make a point of having a time for discourse during the time of my day, as otherwise my intellect would suffocate and become just practical.
Our conversation on analytic philosophy led to Shiotani's appraisal of philosophy in the United States.
"The Americans have an inferiority complex towards the Europeans as regards philosophy", Shiotani said. "As a result, they stress pragmatism as a philosophical fruit borne out of their own tradition".
"Isn't it great," I countered, "that they have their own problems, and find it, define it, and elucidate it?"
"That's right," Shiotani said, "whereas the Japanese philosophers traditionally just import the Western philosophy and translate them, pretending they are their own. Unless the Japanese philosophers identify their own problem, their contribution in history would be limited."
Then Shiotani suddenly remarked. "You know pragmatism is different from utilitarianism."
"You mean, being pragmatic does not just imply a concern about the utilitarian significances of a particular system of thought, but rather, pragmatism is a whole organic network of methodologies involving epistemology and ontology, a particular way of looking at the world at large?"
"More or less. That's the gist of it"
It was lunch time, and our conversation had to end prematurely.
It is nice to go out of your way a little bit and have this window with your best friend of 25 years, towards stimulating my soul.
Ken Shiotani arguing about pragmatism over lunch.
These days, I make a point of having a time for discourse during the time of my day, as otherwise my intellect would suffocate and become just practical.
Our conversation on analytic philosophy led to Shiotani's appraisal of philosophy in the United States.
"The Americans have an inferiority complex towards the Europeans as regards philosophy", Shiotani said. "As a result, they stress pragmatism as a philosophical fruit borne out of their own tradition".
"Isn't it great," I countered, "that they have their own problems, and find it, define it, and elucidate it?"
"That's right," Shiotani said, "whereas the Japanese philosophers traditionally just import the Western philosophy and translate them, pretending they are their own. Unless the Japanese philosophers identify their own problem, their contribution in history would be limited."
Then Shiotani suddenly remarked. "You know pragmatism is different from utilitarianism."
"You mean, being pragmatic does not just imply a concern about the utilitarian significances of a particular system of thought, but rather, pragmatism is a whole organic network of methodologies involving epistemology and ontology, a particular way of looking at the world at large?"
"More or less. That's the gist of it"
It was lunch time, and our conversation had to end prematurely.
It is nice to go out of your way a little bit and have this window with your best friend of 25 years, towards stimulating my soul.
Ken Shiotani arguing about pragmatism over lunch.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Ilya Farber
I met with Ilya Farber on Sunday afternoon. When I first heard that he was staying in Tokyo from Friday to Monday, I was amazed at his hectic schedule. Then I learned that he is actually on transit from the U.S. to Singapore, where he is now teaching at SMU.
We found ourselves seated in a soba restaurant. In the next couple of hours we talked about the neural correlates of consciousness, the pros and cons of analytic philosophy, problems in university life here and there, the prospect of consciousness studies in the future, how to liberate qualia from mysticism, and the joy of life in Singapore.
Ilya is such a fascinating person to talk with, so witty and full of love.
I learned that Ilya is fond of Japanese culture, his favorite manga being Ranma 1/2.
It is rare to get on a conversational jet coaster to ride from Dennetian arguments to the creams of pop culture within 10 minutes.
It was so fun.
Ilya Farber in a Tokyo restaurant.
We found ourselves seated in a soba restaurant. In the next couple of hours we talked about the neural correlates of consciousness, the pros and cons of analytic philosophy, problems in university life here and there, the prospect of consciousness studies in the future, how to liberate qualia from mysticism, and the joy of life in Singapore.
Ilya is such a fascinating person to talk with, so witty and full of love.
I learned that Ilya is fond of Japanese culture, his favorite manga being Ranma 1/2.
It is rare to get on a conversational jet coaster to ride from Dennetian arguments to the creams of pop culture within 10 minutes.
It was so fun.
Ilya Farber in a Tokyo restaurant.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The parameter space for the character heterogeneities
The functions of molecules such implicated in social contexts as vasopressin and oxytocin would naturally depend on the biochemical and biophysical contexts into which these molecules are placed. Therefore, the contexts ("keyholes") are more important than the molecules ("keys") themselves.
The more robust existence of empathy in female subjects might be related to the balance of oxytocin and vasopressin, but they would remain a indirect cause, the direct cause more explicitly accounted for by the specific neural circuits involved.
Keeping in mind these reservations, there are some arguments for the explicit treatment of these molecules as socially active parameters.
If there was an instance where these molecules are in effect traded between individuals through some measures, that could lead to an effective construction of their social functionality.
The intricate interaction of these "social molecules" would ultimately lead to, for example, differences in character. Therefore, the parameter space for character heterogeneities might be effectively written in terms of the parameter space of these social molecules, in addiction to a description by the specifics of neural circuits.
The more robust existence of empathy in female subjects might be related to the balance of oxytocin and vasopressin, but they would remain a indirect cause, the direct cause more explicitly accounted for by the specific neural circuits involved.
Keeping in mind these reservations, there are some arguments for the explicit treatment of these molecules as socially active parameters.
If there was an instance where these molecules are in effect traded between individuals through some measures, that could lead to an effective construction of their social functionality.
The intricate interaction of these "social molecules" would ultimately lead to, for example, differences in character. Therefore, the parameter space for character heterogeneities might be effectively written in terms of the parameter space of these social molecules, in addiction to a description by the specifics of neural circuits.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Relatively mild
I don't like wearing a coat even in the middle of winter, as I dislike the feeling of suffocation as one enters the indoors.
Consequently, I opt to wear a T-shirt, and then only a sweater, which is full of small "holes" by their nature through which bitter winds would inevitably blow.
When I went to Hakata the other day, it was snowing and the temperature was very low. As I ventured out of the hotel to have supper, the bitter wind was blowing through my sweater onto my bare arms with an astonishing force. It was at then that I felt a "danger" for my life.
Undaunted, I just hurried on to the restaurant, with my arms gathered around the chest area to protect and shield.
Once I was in the restaurant, I was OK.
Unrepentantly, I go about in the winter Tokyo today with my T-shirt and the sweater. People are astonished to see me without a coat. It can certainly make you alert, reacting to the changing weather. And it is just great once you are inside, without the nuisance of having to get rid of the coat.
It is just the winter of Tokyo that I have to withstand, which is relatively mild compared to, say, one in Russia.
Consequently, I opt to wear a T-shirt, and then only a sweater, which is full of small "holes" by their nature through which bitter winds would inevitably blow.
When I went to Hakata the other day, it was snowing and the temperature was very low. As I ventured out of the hotel to have supper, the bitter wind was blowing through my sweater onto my bare arms with an astonishing force. It was at then that I felt a "danger" for my life.
Undaunted, I just hurried on to the restaurant, with my arms gathered around the chest area to protect and shield.
Once I was in the restaurant, I was OK.
Unrepentantly, I go about in the winter Tokyo today with my T-shirt and the sweater. People are astonished to see me without a coat. It can certainly make you alert, reacting to the changing weather. And it is just great once you are inside, without the nuisance of having to get rid of the coat.
It is just the winter of Tokyo that I have to withstand, which is relatively mild compared to, say, one in Russia.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Out in the Open.
Google's recent decision and moves as regards their operation is laudable. I here pledge my fullest support.
The online manifesto by Jonathan Rosenberg, Senior Vice President of Google, "The meaning of open" spells out important ethics and philosophies for how to proceed with this important medium, the internet.
At issue is the competition between an open system and a closed system. When open and closed system co-exist, sometimes the closed system might seem to have an edge in the short run, as they are more efficient in the limited context.
As time goes by, however, an open and free system would win over the closed and controlled system, because a global optimum can be searched and found, as opposed to the suffocation of the closed and controlled system.
In the contingent universe, we must all be aware that it is impossible to control an organic and dynamical system, after all. The very idea of controlling information to the liking of the regime is childish and is bound to fail.
By putting oneself out in the open, one's spirit gets the freedom to grow out of proportions. Only then we can do justice to this precious thing, life.
The online manifesto by Jonathan Rosenberg, Senior Vice President of Google, "The meaning of open" spells out important ethics and philosophies for how to proceed with this important medium, the internet.
At issue is the competition between an open system and a closed system. When open and closed system co-exist, sometimes the closed system might seem to have an edge in the short run, as they are more efficient in the limited context.
As time goes by, however, an open and free system would win over the closed and controlled system, because a global optimum can be searched and found, as opposed to the suffocation of the closed and controlled system.
In the contingent universe, we must all be aware that it is impossible to control an organic and dynamical system, after all. The very idea of controlling information to the liking of the regime is childish and is bound to fail.
By putting oneself out in the open, one's spirit gets the freedom to grow out of proportions. Only then we can do justice to this precious thing, life.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, January 11, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
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.
---------
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.
Friday, January 08, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
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).
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).
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Nothing to say.
Take the starry night by Vincent van Gogh, for example. This oil painting, painted in 1889, strikes one with a vivid impression. However, Gogh himself has nothing to say about it.
Nothing to say. Creators must remain silent, after the work is finished. If the work is powerful enough, it will speak for the self. The urge to add some words to the self-standing work is a testimony of its feebleness. Weakness requires complements. Beauty and power are self-sustaining.
If you are a creator, you should not go moping about, concerning your work. You may want to do it privately, among your close friends, but not publicly.
This universe, which we inhabit, is a beautiful and powerful place, with lots of secrets and treasures, a small portion of which we humans have uncovered. It is a self-sustaining work.
That is probably why God remains silent.
Nothing to say.
The Starry Night. By Vincent van Gogh
Nothing to say. Creators must remain silent, after the work is finished. If the work is powerful enough, it will speak for the self. The urge to add some words to the self-standing work is a testimony of its feebleness. Weakness requires complements. Beauty and power are self-sustaining.
If you are a creator, you should not go moping about, concerning your work. You may want to do it privately, among your close friends, but not publicly.
This universe, which we inhabit, is a beautiful and powerful place, with lots of secrets and treasures, a small portion of which we humans have uncovered. It is a self-sustaining work.
That is probably why God remains silent.
Nothing to say.
The Starry Night. By Vincent van Gogh
Monday, January 04, 2010
Wild Animals
When you watch classic films shot in Japan's Showa era like Akira Kurosawa's "High and Low", you are surprised by the swift and vivid movements of the actors.
The actions are full of energy, with surprising twists, and accompanied by the very strong feeling of something living here and now.
Although the gist of the impressions is surely due to the mastery of the great director, I think it has a lot to do with the Zeitgeist, too. The film was released in 1963. At that time, 17 years after the end of second world war, Japanese economy was rapidly growing, rather like today's China. People were naturally highly motivated, with a belief that tomorrow will bring something exciting, something unprecedented. Such a mindset shows in the movements.
Civilization, when it develops, envelops the human beings with lots of protections. We become "vetted", and lose our wilderness. With the advent of the internet, we are all in a danger of constant vetting, and that is reflected in our daily movements.
To watch a film like "High and Low" is tantamount to having a glimpse into the time in which we were rather like "wild animals", roaming in the world at large, driven by our own instincts, oblivious of the glass ceiling of civilization which actually exists in any given era.
Cover of Akira Kurosawa's "High and Low" DVD.
The actions are full of energy, with surprising twists, and accompanied by the very strong feeling of something living here and now.
Although the gist of the impressions is surely due to the mastery of the great director, I think it has a lot to do with the Zeitgeist, too. The film was released in 1963. At that time, 17 years after the end of second world war, Japanese economy was rapidly growing, rather like today's China. People were naturally highly motivated, with a belief that tomorrow will bring something exciting, something unprecedented. Such a mindset shows in the movements.
Civilization, when it develops, envelops the human beings with lots of protections. We become "vetted", and lose our wilderness. With the advent of the internet, we are all in a danger of constant vetting, and that is reflected in our daily movements.
To watch a film like "High and Low" is tantamount to having a glimpse into the time in which we were rather like "wild animals", roaming in the world at large, driven by our own instincts, oblivious of the glass ceiling of civilization which actually exists in any given era.
Cover of Akira Kurosawa's "High and Low" DVD.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
"I am happy. I will live long"
In Yasujiro Ozu's film "Early Summer" ("Bakushu"), there is a surprise scene where Noriko (played by Setsuko Hara) agrees to marry the widower Kenkichi (played by Hiroshi Nihonyangagi). Kenkichi's mother, Tami (played by Haruko Sugimura), on a sudden impulse says that she had been wishing that somebody like Noriko would marry the lonely man. The unexpected proposal, and Noriko's equally unanticipated "yes", is a dramatic turning point in the tranquility of the beautiful cinema.
Upon hearing Noriko's consent, Tami goes on to say "Thank you very much. I am happy. I will live long." Tami has been worried about her son's future, and her own welfare, but now that the key arrangement has been made, she can rest assured that her remaining days, the last stretch of life, would be happy.
Seeing my own mother for the New year, I remembered the poignant scene from the great master. And I wished that my mother would be able to say "I am happy. I will live long." in the coming years.
Life is full of ups and downs, and I can take my share of the upheavals, as I am determined to be strong in heart, but I would like my aging parents to be happy, without conditions.
The immortal "proposal" scene from "Early Summer."
Upon hearing Noriko's consent, Tami goes on to say "Thank you very much. I am happy. I will live long." Tami has been worried about her son's future, and her own welfare, but now that the key arrangement has been made, she can rest assured that her remaining days, the last stretch of life, would be happy.
Seeing my own mother for the New year, I remembered the poignant scene from the great master. And I wished that my mother would be able to say "I am happy. I will live long." in the coming years.
Life is full of ups and downs, and I can take my share of the upheavals, as I am determined to be strong in heart, but I would like my aging parents to be happy, without conditions.
The immortal "proposal" scene from "Early Summer."
Saturday, January 02, 2010
The blanket mood
As a kid I used to stay in the blanket, especially on a cold morning.
I would wrap myself entirely in the warm cloth, with only my head sticking out of it. At this posture, the wayward strings and fluffs would be just in front of me. I would watch them in a correspondingly capricious mood, slightly out of focus. Then I would gradually find myself in a virtually isolated state. Cozily isolated.
The world around me disappears. There is just I and the piece of string protruding out of the blanket. I would be immensely happy. Like I was still in the mother's womb. There was nothing to be added, or subtracted. I am in a perfect state of bliss.
Then time passes, and I have to go to the toilet, or prepare myself to go to school. With a sigh and resignation, I would hesitatingly get out of the blanket. Those were the days.
Mornings have become practical nowadays. I seldom get into the blanket mood. When, on a rare occasion, I find myself reluctant to get out of it, I regard it as a special bonus. The spirit of childhood has returned to me.
I would wrap myself entirely in the warm cloth, with only my head sticking out of it. At this posture, the wayward strings and fluffs would be just in front of me. I would watch them in a correspondingly capricious mood, slightly out of focus. Then I would gradually find myself in a virtually isolated state. Cozily isolated.
The world around me disappears. There is just I and the piece of string protruding out of the blanket. I would be immensely happy. Like I was still in the mother's womb. There was nothing to be added, or subtracted. I am in a perfect state of bliss.
Then time passes, and I have to go to the toilet, or prepare myself to go to school. With a sigh and resignation, I would hesitatingly get out of the blanket. Those were the days.
Mornings have become practical nowadays. I seldom get into the blanket mood. When, on a rare occasion, I find myself reluctant to get out of it, I regard it as a special bonus. The spirit of childhood has returned to me.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Escape velocity
I feel as if I am in a period of inner transformation. I try to do things that have not been possible so far, and shy away from things that have become easy and accustomed for me.
The things that I would like to do, the worlds in which I prefer to be, have not changed so much over the years. The key is how you can be honest about it. We have a great functionality of adjusting to the environment, and that could also be a source of curse sometimes.
Gravitational pull can be enjoyed. The escape velocity for the earth is 11.2 km. Let's see how fast I can run this year.
And let's keep enjoying the small things, like the blossom of violet on the side of the meandering path.
The things that I would like to do, the worlds in which I prefer to be, have not changed so much over the years. The key is how you can be honest about it. We have a great functionality of adjusting to the environment, and that could also be a source of curse sometimes.
Gravitational pull can be enjoyed. The escape velocity for the earth is 11.2 km. Let's see how fast I can run this year.
And let's keep enjoying the small things, like the blossom of violet on the side of the meandering path.
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