I have looked at many cartoons, and noticed the curvature of each line, there are no straight lines, it is all curves. The calligraphic swirls, squiggles and eddies form rippling flesh. It mirrors me, and my many curves. I read that the origins 1500 years ago were to celebrate peace on earth and bountiful harvests. They remind me of the enormous women kept well-fed in Africa, to exemplify bounty and richness, let alone gorgeous booty.
The spiritual content here is full-on. Some of the statues at temples look so gnome and Disney like, I wonder if there is a connection. And they are all fat, huge protruding bellies and roly-poly chins. It makes me all the more curious as to why so few people are large size. Sometimes I see women who are credit card sized, so slim when they turn they disappear, except for the jut of their chin. I have seen many more porky guys, and at the train station the other day, I saw a couple of guys with a woman, and she was stroking one of their bellies, almost in disbelief at his rotundity. He seemed proud of the distension, and she couldn't keep her hands off it, muttering all the time. I don't know for all I know he'd suffered chemo and was recovering.
I went to a store to see if there were any trousers near my size, the 3L was like a dainty size 10, but it was the length of them that cracked me up, they are made for much shorter people. Next time I come, remind me to bring more than 2 pairs of jeans.
It's the attitude towards flesh that dismays me, when I sat down on the train the other day, between 2 people, one woman cried out, as my body inserted itself there, she made a big noise, like I'd sat on her, but I hadn't, so rude. A couple of times I have said in English "calm down", this usually shocks whoever it is into panic.
The train etiquette when you are sitting is to touch no-one, not a shoulder, or thigh. But if you are standing it is on for young and old, whole bodies leaning against you, as the sardine tin races along. Bloody backpacks, there are luggage racks, but few people use them.
I have never observed a culture more into pens and especially pencils as here. Maybe cos they are such high quality, but when a pencil is put on the table, there is virtually a battle to get it, and doodle and scribble and simply use up that nice graphite. It's cool. I bought a new pen here, and on a number of occaisions have proffered it to someone, who invariably (100%) comments "nice pen". I don't know why I find this so funny, but it is.
Today I had a coffe at The Royal Host, a chain of diners all around, I got an espresso, and sat in the warm dining hall, surrounded by business men eating a bit of pasta, a sausage and a few opther un-identifiable things, with a bloody bowl of rice on the side, at like 11 in the morning. Strange. I cannot understand McDonalds, or any of that crap here, I really can't. Theres enough fried food to sink every ship on the planet! My tastebuds have changed radically since being here, it is wonderful, I feel free of the shackles of cheese and all the shit I used to eat, the thought of it repulses me. Maybe I only need 6 hours of sleep because I am not eating any sugar! I think so.
The fridge agrees with me.
I like how I get to feel what I feel, with no distractions sometimes, I am far less moody than I thought I was, and find myself in joy for small things. I must admit, I do not miss the Huntsmen spiders that plague me in Oz.
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