In the great masterpiece by Soseki Natsume, Sanshiro, there is a humorous passage between Yojiro and Sanshiro, two University students.
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Sanshiro, after extending the logic thus far, thought that he has been a bit influenced by master Hirota. In actually, he was not that desperate.
Next day, at the university, the lectures continued to be dull. However as the air in the auditoriums were superficially far removed from the frivolous society, Sanshiro, by three p.m., succeeded to be a member of the Second World, the world of academic endeavors. Sanshiro, thus feeling like a great cultural figure himself, walked to the Oiwake police station when he happened to meet Yojiro.
"Ha ha ha, he he he"
Yojiro bursted into laughter. Sanshiro's posture of being a serious thinker was disrupted. Even the officer at the police station seemed to be laughing.
"What is it?" Sanshiro demanded angrily.
"YOU tell me what it is. When you walk, walk like a decent human being! The way you step forward, you look like an epitome of ROMANTIC IRONY."
Sanshiro did not understand what Yojiro meant with this western word. Unable to say anything sensible, Sanshiro asked "did you find the lodging?"
"That is why I just visited your place. Tomorrow, we move. You would come and help, wouldn't you?", Yojiro answered.
"Where are you moving?"
"10-He-3 of Nishikata district. Go there and clean the place by nine in the morning. I will be there later. Understand? By nine in the morning. 10-He-3. See you then."
Yojiro hurried by. Sanshiro went back to his lodging quickly.
Later that night, Sanshiro walked back to the University library, and looked up the word "Romantic Irony". He found that it was a concept originally put forward by the German poet Schlegel. According to the idea, a genius must wander around all day, without any objectives, without making conscious efforts. Finding what "Romantic Irony" meant, Sanshiro was finally relieved, went back to his lodging and slept.
(Translation from the original Japanese text mine)
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Ever since I read this passage in the novel in my youth, I have been fascinated by the concept "romantic irony."
Nowadays, in the cognitive neurosciences, the concept of
default network is very much in focus. I sometimes weigh the relation between the default network and romantic irony, and ponder the resonances.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Imperfection.
Ever since I learned that there was going to be a total solar eclipse in the southern islands of Japan I wanted to be there.
However, these islands are very small and it is difficult to get there. As time passed, and the news about sold-out air tickets and overpacked boats circulated, it became clear that I cannot be on these remote islands on the 22nd of July, 2009.
For a while I thought of flying to Shanghai, where the total eclipse belt would pass. My schedule made it impossible to realize. I had appointments on the days and before and after.
Gradually, I reconciled myself with the idea of observing the partial solar eclipse. I did just that.
On the day of the solar eclipse, I placed myself in a forest and watched the disfiguration of the sun in the sky. As the moon passed between the sun and the earth, the world around me turned into dusk. But not totally dark. Soon the sun began to shine again.
Thus I learned to accept an imperfection in life. I realized that there is certain glory in an imperfection. The lingering aftertaste of unfulfilled expectations.
Imperfections are beautiful.
However, these islands are very small and it is difficult to get there. As time passed, and the news about sold-out air tickets and overpacked boats circulated, it became clear that I cannot be on these remote islands on the 22nd of July, 2009.
For a while I thought of flying to Shanghai, where the total eclipse belt would pass. My schedule made it impossible to realize. I had appointments on the days and before and after.
Gradually, I reconciled myself with the idea of observing the partial solar eclipse. I did just that.
On the day of the solar eclipse, I placed myself in a forest and watched the disfiguration of the sun in the sky. As the moon passed between the sun and the earth, the world around me turned into dusk. But not totally dark. Soon the sun began to shine again.
Thus I learned to accept an imperfection in life. I realized that there is certain glory in an imperfection. The lingering aftertaste of unfulfilled expectations.
Imperfections are beautiful.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Bookworm
When I was a kid I used to be a bookworm. When I am really absorbed in reading, I become one with the book. On one memorable afternoon, I read four thick books in a row, after borrowing them from the library.
One of my favorite pastimes is to lay myself on the sofa, and keep reading the books, preferably on a lazy summer afternoon. As I am too much occupied nowadays, I cannot indulge myself in this sweet marriage with the imagined and fictional, much to my regret.
One of my favorite pastimes is to lay myself on the sofa, and keep reading the books, preferably on a lazy summer afternoon. As I am too much occupied nowadays, I cannot indulge myself in this sweet marriage with the imagined and fictional, much to my regret.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Deprivation.
I went to the performance of "Hansel and Gretel" of Seiji Ozawa Ongakujuku 2009.
The first time I heard live music under Seiji Ozawa's conducting was when I went to a Salome performance with my mother in the suburbs of Tokyo. The music by Richard Strauss was played with fire and full of passion. I became an instant fan.
Ever since, I have been listening to Ozawa when I had a chance. One of the most memorable occasions was when I attended the performance of the Saito Kinen Orchestra conducted by Seiji Ozawa, in the Queen Elizabeth hall. I was studying in Cambridge then, and took the train to the King's Cross railway station in London.
Listening to Hansel and Gretel, I thought about how deprivation nurtured fantasy. Hansel and Gretel are very poor. They cannot get anything other than dry bread. Water is the only drink they come by. When Gretel is fortunate to get some milk from a neighbor, her mother accidentally spills it, breaking the new jar. Angrily. the mother tells Hansel and Gretel to pick up some berries in the forest.
The valley of deprivation is very deep for the boy and girl. Because of that, in a contrast, the dreamlike fantasy of angels that guard Hansel and Gretel's troubled sleep in the night forest becomes shining and rewarding.
Deprivation is the mother of the arts. A great artist can see deprivation even in a situation when there is peace on surface and materialistic abundance everywhere. The artist's soul can identify and then fulfill a spiritual void.
The first time I heard live music under Seiji Ozawa's conducting was when I went to a Salome performance with my mother in the suburbs of Tokyo. The music by Richard Strauss was played with fire and full of passion. I became an instant fan.
Ever since, I have been listening to Ozawa when I had a chance. One of the most memorable occasions was when I attended the performance of the Saito Kinen Orchestra conducted by Seiji Ozawa, in the Queen Elizabeth hall. I was studying in Cambridge then, and took the train to the King's Cross railway station in London.
Listening to Hansel and Gretel, I thought about how deprivation nurtured fantasy. Hansel and Gretel are very poor. They cannot get anything other than dry bread. Water is the only drink they come by. When Gretel is fortunate to get some milk from a neighbor, her mother accidentally spills it, breaking the new jar. Angrily. the mother tells Hansel and Gretel to pick up some berries in the forest.
The valley of deprivation is very deep for the boy and girl. Because of that, in a contrast, the dreamlike fantasy of angels that guard Hansel and Gretel's troubled sleep in the night forest becomes shining and rewarding.
Deprivation is the mother of the arts. A great artist can see deprivation even in a situation when there is peace on surface and materialistic abundance everywhere. The artist's soul can identify and then fulfill a spiritual void.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sentimental value
In the small house that I rented in Cambridge, there was an old wooden chair. I used to sit on them in the evening, sipping beer and watching the swallow in the sky.
"This chair has a sentimental value for me", said the University Professor who rented me the house. "You see, my father made it for me when I was kid".
There is something about the human brain's ability to comprehend and learn language which is quite extraordinary. It was the first time that I heard the expression "sentimental value" used in this particular context, and the meaning was immediately clear. The term has stayed with me, and the memory sometimes returns to me as if in a flash, the enigmatic moment when I first came across this expression of the English language.
We attach a sentimental value to many things in life. Most of the time it is an object. With dynamic, moving things of life, it is often difficult to capture and assign a sentimental value to it.
We do sometimes succeed. For example, I remember vividly how when I was about eight I came across a huge tree where literally tens of common bluebottles (Graphium sarpedon) gathered. This particular species is not uncommon, but I have never seen them in such an abundance before or ever afterwards.
It was in the backyard hill of my relative, in my mother's native island of Kyushu. The forest that covered the hill is now lost, turned into a huge housing project.
The fact that the environment which nurtured it would never return adds fuel and sparkling to the sentimental value of this memory. I treasure it like a gemstone of bygone days.
"This chair has a sentimental value for me", said the University Professor who rented me the house. "You see, my father made it for me when I was kid".
There is something about the human brain's ability to comprehend and learn language which is quite extraordinary. It was the first time that I heard the expression "sentimental value" used in this particular context, and the meaning was immediately clear. The term has stayed with me, and the memory sometimes returns to me as if in a flash, the enigmatic moment when I first came across this expression of the English language.
We attach a sentimental value to many things in life. Most of the time it is an object. With dynamic, moving things of life, it is often difficult to capture and assign a sentimental value to it.
We do sometimes succeed. For example, I remember vividly how when I was about eight I came across a huge tree where literally tens of common bluebottles (Graphium sarpedon) gathered. This particular species is not uncommon, but I have never seen them in such an abundance before or ever afterwards.
It was in the backyard hill of my relative, in my mother's native island of Kyushu. The forest that covered the hill is now lost, turned into a huge housing project.
The fact that the environment which nurtured it would never return adds fuel and sparkling to the sentimental value of this memory. I treasure it like a gemstone of bygone days.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Criticism in action.
Some time ago, I was talking with the curator Yuko Hasegawa. We were discussing the nature of criticism, a necessary element in evaluating works of contemporary art, which is Yuko's field of expertise.
"When I look at a piece and do not like it, I simply move on", Yuko said.
"I walk and look, and keep moving on, saying this is not it. Then, once in a while, I come across a marvelous piece that really shakes my soul. Then I say to myself, here it was."
Yuko's method of criticism in action fits me. Criticism is not about having the last word. It is about living, actively searching, making discoveries, and accepting.
With Yuko Hasegawa
"When I look at a piece and do not like it, I simply move on", Yuko said.
"I walk and look, and keep moving on, saying this is not it. Then, once in a while, I come across a marvelous piece that really shakes my soul. Then I say to myself, here it was."
Yuko's method of criticism in action fits me. Criticism is not about having the last word. It is about living, actively searching, making discoveries, and accepting.
With Yuko Hasegawa
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Erdos number
I met with the Hungary born mathematician Peter Frankl for a radio program at NHK
Peter is a fascinating character. He is also known for his juggling acts. He said he started practicing for street performances as juggling was more visible to people. Mathematical problems are notoriously difficult to come across.
While discussing, Peter casually mentioned that he has written several papers with Paul Erdos. "Are, you are Erdos number one, then!" I exclaimed. So far in my life, the smallest Erdos number that I encountered was three.
"As Paul Erdos is sadly no longer with us," Peter said, "it is now impossible to become Erdos number one any more".
My only hope is that if I write a paper with Peter Frankl, I would get Erdos number two. Peter said he was working on a paper on quasi-random graphs. My Ph.D. thesis was on an application of graphic transformation.
As I left the studio, the shining smile of Peter Frankl remained with me, to illuminate and inspire.
With Peter Frankl in the NHK studio.
Peter is a fascinating character. He is also known for his juggling acts. He said he started practicing for street performances as juggling was more visible to people. Mathematical problems are notoriously difficult to come across.
While discussing, Peter casually mentioned that he has written several papers with Paul Erdos. "Are, you are Erdos number one, then!" I exclaimed. So far in my life, the smallest Erdos number that I encountered was three.
"As Paul Erdos is sadly no longer with us," Peter said, "it is now impossible to become Erdos number one any more".
My only hope is that if I write a paper with Peter Frankl, I would get Erdos number two. Peter said he was working on a paper on quasi-random graphs. My Ph.D. thesis was on an application of graphic transformation.
As I left the studio, the shining smile of Peter Frankl remained with me, to illuminate and inspire.
With Peter Frankl in the NHK studio.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Royal family
I attended the rehearsals for the opera "Hansel and Gretel" by Humperdinck. The conductor was Seiji Ozawa.
The rehearsals were held for the upcoming performances of the Seiji Ozawa Ongakujuku 2009.
During the intermission, just before the General Probe for the third act, I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Graham Clark , who sang the part of the witch. Marianne Wachter was with us.
Graham has appeared as Mime in Bayreuth for many years. "The atmosphere was quite special", Graham said. "We used to have curtain calls for 40 or 50 minutes. It is Walhall. People make a pilgrimage to Bayreuth to come to close encounters with the great tradition".
"It is the only family opera house left in Europe", Marianne said.
"The Wagner family, in a sense, is the only Royal family in Germany", said Graham. "It is certainly the most important family", Marianne said.
"It is not easy to see all these if you don't live in the German speaking world".
The time came for Graham to sing. In a moment, the gentleman transformed himself into the witch and stormed onto the stage.
The rehearsals were held for the upcoming performances of the Seiji Ozawa Ongakujuku 2009.
During the intermission, just before the General Probe for the third act, I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Graham Clark , who sang the part of the witch. Marianne Wachter was with us.
Graham has appeared as Mime in Bayreuth for many years. "The atmosphere was quite special", Graham said. "We used to have curtain calls for 40 or 50 minutes. It is Walhall. People make a pilgrimage to Bayreuth to come to close encounters with the great tradition".
"It is the only family opera house left in Europe", Marianne said.
"The Wagner family, in a sense, is the only Royal family in Germany", said Graham. "It is certainly the most important family", Marianne said.
"It is not easy to see all these if you don't live in the German speaking world".
The time came for Graham to sing. In a moment, the gentleman transformed himself into the witch and stormed onto the stage.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Mt. Fuji
I live in Tokyo. I travel on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to the western cities (e.g. Nagoya, Kyoto, and Osaka) of Japan quite often. In a particularly busy week last year I traveled to and from the Kansai region four times within seven days. Shinkansen is quite indispensable.
When I was a kid, traveling on the Shinkansen was a magical experience. As the train leaves the Tokyo station, and passes through Odawara and Atami, I would start looking expectantly through the window, waiting for Mt. Fuji to emerge in its magnificent appearance.
Mt. Fuji is quite arguably the most fascinating and awe-inspiring mountain in Japan, and looking at the rocky apparition was the highlights of my travels in childhood.
Nowadays I am busy doing this and that on the train, and rarely gaze at Mt. Fuji for a prolonged time. The trains are now equipped with WiFi. Otherwise I am deep asleep, and do not notice the passage of the heavenly mountain.
Even on these prosaic days I do sometimes glance at the most famous mountain in Japan, and the magic of childhood days returns to this insensitive soul.
When I was a kid, traveling on the Shinkansen was a magical experience. As the train leaves the Tokyo station, and passes through Odawara and Atami, I would start looking expectantly through the window, waiting for Mt. Fuji to emerge in its magnificent appearance.
Mt. Fuji is quite arguably the most fascinating and awe-inspiring mountain in Japan, and looking at the rocky apparition was the highlights of my travels in childhood.
Nowadays I am busy doing this and that on the train, and rarely gaze at Mt. Fuji for a prolonged time. The trains are now equipped with WiFi. Otherwise I am deep asleep, and do not notice the passage of the heavenly mountain.
Even on these prosaic days I do sometimes glance at the most famous mountain in Japan, and the magic of childhood days returns to this insensitive soul.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Aerial dance
Yesterday, I was giving lectures at University of Osaka.
Walking along the street, I saw two common bluebottle (Graphium sarpedon) butterflies in the sky. They kept flying, chasing each other.
After a while, one of them began circling around the other. The movement was quite rapid. The circle was completed more than once a second, approximately.
I was fascinated by this elegant and dynamic display of behavior. It must be written in the genetic code. Generations after generations have performed this aerial dance without knowing how or why.
Walking along the street, I saw two common bluebottle (Graphium sarpedon) butterflies in the sky. They kept flying, chasing each other.
After a while, one of them began circling around the other. The movement was quite rapid. The circle was completed more than once a second, approximately.
I was fascinated by this elegant and dynamic display of behavior. It must be written in the genetic code. Generations after generations have performed this aerial dance without knowing how or why.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Symbolization
"Kaen-doki" ("Fire flame earthenwares") are found in various part of Japan, and are estimated to have been made 4000 to 5000 years ago. Some fine specimen of these vessels with magnificent ornamentation are registered as National Treasures of Japan, and as such, are the oldest members of this genre.
Several years ago, I had an opportunity to observe one particularly fine fire flame vessel in Tokamachi . I was impressed by the abstract expression of the fire flames figures.
Nobody is sure that these patterns actually represent fire flames, given that there were no letters to record and convey the significance in those period. Yet, as one admires the ornamentation, one is brought into the strange realm of symbolization of the dancing flames, now twisted and now straight, ever changing, but remaining eternal in essence.
I can almost imagine myself watching the fire flames at night in those ancient times. Surrounded by the menacing darkness, the fire flames must have appeared to be the symbol of our earthly existence itself.
A fire flame earthenware.
Several years ago, I had an opportunity to observe one particularly fine fire flame vessel in Tokamachi . I was impressed by the abstract expression of the fire flames figures.
Nobody is sure that these patterns actually represent fire flames, given that there were no letters to record and convey the significance in those period. Yet, as one admires the ornamentation, one is brought into the strange realm of symbolization of the dancing flames, now twisted and now straight, ever changing, but remaining eternal in essence.
I can almost imagine myself watching the fire flames at night in those ancient times. Surrounded by the menacing darkness, the fire flames must have appeared to be the symbol of our earthly existence itself.
A fire flame earthenware.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Blueberries
I went to Vancouver, Canada at the age of 15 for one month to study English. My host family (Verna and Jim) lived in Richmond.
They would often take me to the Richmond Nature Park. It was fun to walk among the woods, with squirrels crossing your way.
It was there that I learned the joy of blueberry picking. The blueberry trees bore lots of fruits all around the park. It was fun to pick and eat the sweet little blue things as you walked along the shrubs.
"You are allowed to pick and eat the berries in the park", Verna said, "but you can't take them home in a jar to make jam"
There was this primordial joy in nourishing nature at first hand. You can get blueberries in packages in the supermarkets, but it is not the same thing. Devouring directly from the twigs had a flavor incomparable to any artificially prepared delicacies.
They would often take me to the Richmond Nature Park. It was fun to walk among the woods, with squirrels crossing your way.
It was there that I learned the joy of blueberry picking. The blueberry trees bore lots of fruits all around the park. It was fun to pick and eat the sweet little blue things as you walked along the shrubs.
"You are allowed to pick and eat the berries in the park", Verna said, "but you can't take them home in a jar to make jam"
There was this primordial joy in nourishing nature at first hand. You can get blueberries in packages in the supermarkets, but it is not the same thing. Devouring directly from the twigs had a flavor incomparable to any artificially prepared delicacies.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Metacognition.
From time to time, when I am walking around for example, I have this strange feeling. I had one last night, as I strolled on the dimly-lit street towards home.
What is this universe, anyway?
We know that there are natural laws, with molecules moving about within and outside our body, the universe (supposedly) beginning some 13.7 billions years ago, meanwhile life forms evolving, and presto, here we are, self-conscious beings, thinking about consciousness itself, killing time with this game and that website, breathing in the air, and when we feel like it, sometimes wondering, what this is all about.
Yeah. What is this all about?
In the cognitive sciences, the importance of metacognition is stressed. We need to step out of the system sometimes and observe it as if from outside. There are properties only recognizable by doing just that. What if we try to come to a metacognition of the universe that we are in?
In those rare moments, when I feel as if I have woken up from a long dream, I have this strange hunch that we have been oblivious of some important truths hidden from the beginning of time.
What is this universe, anyway?
We know that there are natural laws, with molecules moving about within and outside our body, the universe (supposedly) beginning some 13.7 billions years ago, meanwhile life forms evolving, and presto, here we are, self-conscious beings, thinking about consciousness itself, killing time with this game and that website, breathing in the air, and when we feel like it, sometimes wondering, what this is all about.
Yeah. What is this all about?
In the cognitive sciences, the importance of metacognition is stressed. We need to step out of the system sometimes and observe it as if from outside. There are properties only recognizable by doing just that. What if we try to come to a metacognition of the universe that we are in?
In those rare moments, when I feel as if I have woken up from a long dream, I have this strange hunch that we have been oblivious of some important truths hidden from the beginning of time.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Fishing lights
Right now I am in Hakodate. I gave a lecture at the Future University Hakodate.
The night fell. I was at a Sushi restaurant with my friends. As I strolled onto the street, I saw glaring lights in the distance. At first I was confused. Then I realized that they were on the sea.
"They are Isaribi", my friend said.
A poetic Japanese word for the fishing lights. With these glitters, the fishermen attract squids. We had just enjoyed one in the Sushi restaurant.
For some time, I could not turn my eyes away from the fishing lights. They were like apparitions which did not quite belong to this earth.
The night fell. I was at a Sushi restaurant with my friends. As I strolled onto the street, I saw glaring lights in the distance. At first I was confused. Then I realized that they were on the sea.
"They are Isaribi", my friend said.
A poetic Japanese word for the fishing lights. With these glitters, the fishermen attract squids. We had just enjoyed one in the Sushi restaurant.
For some time, I could not turn my eyes away from the fishing lights. They were like apparitions which did not quite belong to this earth.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Butterfly alerts
As a kid I used to collect and study butterflies quite seriously. My butterfly mania was quite famous in the neighborhood and school. One day, when I was eight years old, one of my class mate girls contacted me. Apparently, there were some interesting looking butterfly larvae in the garden of her house, and she was wondering if I wanted to come and have a look.
That was one instance of the many butterfly alerts that I used to get from people around me those days. When at home, I would sometimes get media related butterfly alerts. I had my room on the second floor, and I would be reading books, when my mother yelled "Kenichiro, come, butterfly's on t.v.".
I would rush downstairs, and if I was lucky, would get a glimpse of butterflies on the screen, either in a news or a nature documentary.
When your love is known, people would give you alerts, out of kindness, and you respond with quick moves. Butterfly alerts were highlights of my youthful life.
Myself as a kid (10 years old) waiting for the butterfly in the woods, possibly in the northern island of Hokkaido on a butterfly trip.
That was one instance of the many butterfly alerts that I used to get from people around me those days. When at home, I would sometimes get media related butterfly alerts. I had my room on the second floor, and I would be reading books, when my mother yelled "Kenichiro, come, butterfly's on t.v.".
I would rush downstairs, and if I was lucky, would get a glimpse of butterflies on the screen, either in a news or a nature documentary.
When your love is known, people would give you alerts, out of kindness, and you respond with quick moves. Butterfly alerts were highlights of my youthful life.
Myself as a kid (10 years old) waiting for the butterfly in the woods, possibly in the northern island of Hokkaido on a butterfly trip.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
To the river
When I strolled in Cambridge U.K. for the first time back in 1993, I was fascinated by the ancient ambience of the academic city. As I approached the Trinity college, I noticed a small writing on the wall.
"To the river", it said, with an arrow pointing towards the river Cam.
I liked the metaphor, and it stayed with me to this day.
In my life, whenever I can, I am looking for a road leading to the river.
"To the river" sign on the wall near Trinity college, Cambridge, U.K.
"To the river", it said, with an arrow pointing towards the river Cam.
I liked the metaphor, and it stayed with me to this day.
In my life, whenever I can, I am looking for a road leading to the river.
"To the river" sign on the wall near Trinity college, Cambridge, U.K.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Thousand people bath
My mother originated from the southern island of Kyushu.
I was about five when my parents took me to the hot spring city of Beppu, a few hours away from my mother's native town.
The city is famous for various kinds of "hells." The hells are actually special kinds of hot springs, which have been turned into fictional realms belonging to another world where earthly sins would be corrected.
My aunts and uncles were with us. Seeing some hells must have fuelled my imagination. I remember vividly how we came to the entrance of a hot spring bath, when my aunt said that it was called a "thousand people bath" (sen-nin-buro), as a thousand people could bathe at the same time.
The word stimulated my mind, which had been made soft and sensitive by the exposure to the hells. I pictured a thousand people in bare skins standing very close to each other, with the white steam encircling them.
I wanted to see it for myself, but I was dragged by the hand and was taken to the station, where we took the train to travel further.
More than 30 years later, I visited the city of Beppu for a brain science conference. I found out where the "thousand people bath" was in the tourist office.
The real "thousand people bath" was a gigantic hot water pool, roofed by a huge glass structure. The sunshine filled the interior, and there were trees and grasses shining in healthy green colors.
It was nice, but very different from what the five year old imagined it to be.
I am still looking for my thousand people bath.
I was about five when my parents took me to the hot spring city of Beppu, a few hours away from my mother's native town.
The city is famous for various kinds of "hells." The hells are actually special kinds of hot springs, which have been turned into fictional realms belonging to another world where earthly sins would be corrected.
My aunts and uncles were with us. Seeing some hells must have fuelled my imagination. I remember vividly how we came to the entrance of a hot spring bath, when my aunt said that it was called a "thousand people bath" (sen-nin-buro), as a thousand people could bathe at the same time.
The word stimulated my mind, which had been made soft and sensitive by the exposure to the hells. I pictured a thousand people in bare skins standing very close to each other, with the white steam encircling them.
I wanted to see it for myself, but I was dragged by the hand and was taken to the station, where we took the train to travel further.
More than 30 years later, I visited the city of Beppu for a brain science conference. I found out where the "thousand people bath" was in the tourist office.
The real "thousand people bath" was a gigantic hot water pool, roofed by a huge glass structure. The sunshine filled the interior, and there were trees and grasses shining in healthy green colors.
It was nice, but very different from what the five year old imagined it to be.
I am still looking for my thousand people bath.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Extremists
I don't know how it is, but I can breathe easily when there are rooms for extreme people.
Extremity is an art, and requires a certain level of intellect. I really enjoy a conversation when there is somebody in the party who has eccentric views on, for example, the second law of thermodynamics, or the collapse of wave function in quantum mechanics.
Most scientists take a mild attitude towards these venerable enigmas, saying that as far as they can calculate things for all practical purposes (FAPP), they don't care. Those conservative people, although they are certainly the main stream in the academics, do not really interest me. Because they don't make the air lighter.
Being an extremist is not easy nowadays, when the society becomes increasingly practical. It is well advised to keep a sensible day job, while you maintain the extremist's activities at night.
It fills me with indescribable joys to think that there are still extremists around.
Extremity is an art, and requires a certain level of intellect. I really enjoy a conversation when there is somebody in the party who has eccentric views on, for example, the second law of thermodynamics, or the collapse of wave function in quantum mechanics.
Most scientists take a mild attitude towards these venerable enigmas, saying that as far as they can calculate things for all practical purposes (FAPP), they don't care. Those conservative people, although they are certainly the main stream in the academics, do not really interest me. Because they don't make the air lighter.
Being an extremist is not easy nowadays, when the society becomes increasingly practical. It is well advised to keep a sensible day job, while you maintain the extremist's activities at night.
It fills me with indescribable joys to think that there are still extremists around.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Principles
Now I have kept this journal for one month in a row, starting from the 6th of June entry "A double sin". There were two entries prior to that (3rd and 4th of June), but the continuation was broken because I did not make any entries on the 5th.
The Qualia Journal itself as initiated on 9th October 2004, with the entry "Hello World". There were 11 entries in that year. The year 2005 saw 44 entries, followed by 29 in 2006, 68 in 2007, and just 11 in 2008.
This year I intend to continue this "blog streak" for quite a long time, unless something inevitable prevents me from doing it. The reason why I am doing this is complex in psychology but simple in the principles.
It is always the principles that count.
The Qualia Journal itself as initiated on 9th October 2004, with the entry "Hello World". There were 11 entries in that year. The year 2005 saw 44 entries, followed by 29 in 2006, 68 in 2007, and just 11 in 2008.
This year I intend to continue this "blog streak" for quite a long time, unless something inevitable prevents me from doing it. The reason why I am doing this is complex in psychology but simple in the principles.
It is always the principles that count.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Pursuer of inner light
The paintings by El Greco (1541-1614) always struck me as very original, ever since I glanced upon one in an art museum.
Giorgio Giulio Clovio was an artist freind of El Greco, although much older than him.
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Clovio reports visiting El Greco on a summer's day while the artist was still in Rome. El Greco was sitting in a darkened room, because he found the darkness more conducive to thought than the light of the day, which disturbed his "inner light". (quoted from M. Acton, Learning to Look at Paintings, p.82)
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The figures depicted in the El Greco paintings appear as if they are shining from within.
The inner light, when it comes from the painter, is the source for great originality.
In order to be unique you need to listen to your inner voice, rather than attend to what is being said and circulated around you.
A pursuer of inner light goes far, freed from the conventions of the day.
"The Opening of the Fifth Seal" by El Greco.
Giorgio Giulio Clovio was an artist freind of El Greco, although much older than him.
-------
Clovio reports visiting El Greco on a summer's day while the artist was still in Rome. El Greco was sitting in a darkened room, because he found the darkness more conducive to thought than the light of the day, which disturbed his "inner light". (quoted from M. Acton, Learning to Look at Paintings, p.82)
--------
The figures depicted in the El Greco paintings appear as if they are shining from within.
The inner light, when it comes from the painter, is the source for great originality.
In order to be unique you need to listen to your inner voice, rather than attend to what is being said and circulated around you.
A pursuer of inner light goes far, freed from the conventions of the day.
"The Opening of the Fifth Seal" by El Greco.
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