Sweet ladies

I don't know what I would do without my friends. Women have always stood by me all my life, since I was young I have had great women friends, older, younger, immaterial what age. I love them all and love being able to call them or see them and share my world and share theirs.
I think about us all and how we are going somewhere or getting things done, and how beautiful and unique each one of them are, and I feel blessed to be in the lives of so many amazing people.
Go girls!

Travelling solo

I discovered that July 7 is a special bamboo day in Kamakura, and there are many festivities surrounding it, as the stars align that night...and children decorate the bamboo with homemade trinkets

Going it alone can be wearying, but also elating. The kindness of strangers plays a big part, as does my own sense of navigation and instinct. Listening to my body and being somewhat prepared for a myriad amount of adventures and new sensations. I went to Kamakura early on Monday morning, just an hour out of Tokyo, a mountainous area chock full of shrines and my favourite temple so far, the bamboo temple Hokokuji. That was the first stop I made, to wander in the garden there, drink a green tea and sit and contemplate the tall beauty of these plants. During my tea drinking a woman and her daughter struck up conversation with me, which is the right thing to do during tea, an enhancer for discourse. She recommended the temple at Hase, and I take on all recommendations.
I left there and ate my little lunch which I had made the night before, fortified, it began to rain, I had a plastic poncho I'd brought, cleverly, and I set out on my unknown adventure. I found a small route behind the temple, and began to follow it, it came to a forest at the base of a mountain, and as soon as I got there a Western man in his wet pyjamas was exiting, he said hi and I entered. It was magical, just beautiful, tall trees, cypress pines I think, and nobody else around, I went up the slippery path and climbed for about 1/2 an hour, getting hotter and hotter in my poncho. I couldn't decide if it was better to take it off and let the rain drench me from the outside, or leave it on and be drenched by my own sweat. I got to the top, and there was only fog, I knew it was a lookout, but I could see nothing. I sat and had a cigarette and contemplated my choices, no map, no water, no other people, oh well, just continue to the unknown. The path was now clearly unused, as so many spider webs were strung across it, I passed a dead mole, which alarmed me, and just when the going seemed to be getting easier I slipped and fell. Fortunately not too badly, just straining my wrist and getting the most intense clay mud all over me.
I finally made it down, and made my way into town, found a lovely lunch place then a bus to my accommodation for the night which was quite a way out of the town center. It was a hostel with shared dorms, but in traditional style. I got there and had a shower, and a drink then enquired about sunset lookout points, they all gestured towards the balcony, but I wanted more forest, so I climbed the mountain behind. I adore the swathes of deep green forest on top of these mountains, dense and tropical with bamboo feathering out of it, like some soft swaying beauty. I just wanted to contemplate it. There was no lookout, but I found a quiet looking car park and sat there, sheltered by a single car. Naturally a woman came out as soon as I got there and said something then got into her car. I gestured to the bamboo, and said beautiful and she must have been touched by pity 'cos she got back out of her car with some biscuits for me. I couldn't believe it, a perfect stranger. All day I hadn't spoken to anyone except the shopkeepers and staff at the guest house, and here was this stranger giving me biscuits. I was very touched.
I had bought some sushi for dinner, but the staff were making octopus balls and were sharing them around. It was a really nice place, and nobody spoke English, but I felt fine. I had shared a small oyster with one of the other women staying there and in the morning she forced me to take a cucumber and a tomato in return. There is a great deal of even-stevens here, I often go to pay for somebody else, and they always insist on paying their own way.
In the morning I went to Hase temple and was not disappointed, the hydrangeas were in full bloom and I found the most amazing caves around the back with buddha statues carved into them, all wet with moisture, and glistening. There was one section where you could buy small statues and deposit them in the cave. Bentenkustu It was very mysterious and I was bent over double as the caves were so low, but it was some experience. I have never sweated so much in my life as in the sun that day. I even bought tickets to a pretty bad museum just so I could enjoy the aircon! Kamakura is on the coast so I faced my fears and went down to the beach, and stood in the water, contemplating the betrayal of the sea. This same ocean which gives us so much, which we in turn pollute and abuse, had returned with a mighty killing. But it is the same ocean as my beloved Pacific in Sydney!
I walked around buying souvenirs and eating snacks till it got dark then got back on a train to Tokyo.
I was thinking of a book I had read before leaving Australia that Lisa had lent me, 'Naomi' by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki, which concerned visits to Kamakura. I loved visiting the same place albeit 90 years later, and thinking about it.
When I got back my backpack was soaked through with sweat, and absolutely everything had to be washed, but I felt replete and exhausted.

Hori's socks

Hori, a great dancer whose flat we hung out in, in Tateishi does all sorts of beautiful works using clothing and materials. He has been collecting his socks for many years now, old ones that are beyond repair, and cuts them and overlocks the edges. He plans to make a futon cover with the end result. I thought they were the best use of old socks I'd ever seen. I believe he has a pair by comme des garcons, his favourite designer...

Tremendous week

I have had a gorgeous week, the temperatures have reached 30 degrees, and the humidity is similar to Darwin or Singapore, just wet all the time. I went to 2 bath houses this week, got giddy at both, but felt so relaxed and soft afterwards, it is a heady addiction. I also spent the day with my girlfriends here, eating the most amazing and cheap sushi I have ever had in my life. I am afraid it has ruined me now, all other sushi just tastes like shit...dear me. We ate for a whole hour, constantly. It is about 45 minutes from here, a long trek but well worth it. Such a beautiful suburb, Tataishi, very old-fashioned and laid back. People were so friendly and warm, and we had such a great day, we just stayed and went to a park, had a rest, then went for a soak together before meeting up with a dancer I had met before and enjoying drinks in his tiny flat...what a great experience.

Lying on the grass in the park, stretching and singing with the girls, tummy stuffed with sushi, thats the good life. I came home late and felt so good, I climbed into bed after yet another shower and fell asleep immediately.
The other night I went to see Takusan, the hanging man, do a performance with a Noh artist. It was only 1 hour long, but felt very brief. It was a very moving performance, whence the Noh practitioner sang a story and moved very slowly and deliberately through the space. Takusan entered and the dynamic changed, his gaze is what I was watching, this intense gaze, sometimes on the rope on which he is going to hang and sometimes not. I think it is the deliberateness of that gaze that is so empassioned. He hung himself 3, maybe 4 times, and at the end, the lights go down while he is still hanging and I can't express how moving this image was. I couldn't speak afterwards, not till we went for a drink and I told Takusan how I felt and he said "for what purpose?". I found out that the Noh story being told had to do with suicide, which befits Takusan's work, and was a great marriage of concepts. So moving, so deep and intense, in this tiny theatre, air-con turned off, the heat washing over the audience gradually increasing...each movement creaking the floorboards, each audience member's shift in position amplified in the space.
All the old words I remember thinking last time I was here are echoing in my mind, discipline, devotion, duty...such a fascinating place filled with such amazing people trying to make their work but forced to work shit jobs, and largely unrecognised by popular culture. And here I find myself, thrust into the heart of it, meeting beautiful people who do their work and share in their community, it is so similar to what we have in Australia in our own alternative scene. A bunch of weirdoes and aliens who don't feel like they belong, at odds with mainstream society and struggling to get by.
Tonight I am going to a dance improvisation night put in Tsunashima, at Mika Kurosawa's studio. I am going to participate, and am glad the weather is a bit cooler today.

Greenery

I can't do it justice...but that little boat made my heart sing
The Gods smiled on me yesterday. I went for lunch with a couple of artists from the Tokyo Wonder Site Yu and Tomoko, and afterwards expressed an interest in seeing the Prada building I could see from the window. We went down there and were just ambling around, taking in the very wealthy area, and came across a museum, the Nezu Museum. Somewhere in brain, a little light went off, and I said, I think I have to go in there.
Well aren't I glad I did. It was just the ticket to the glory of Japan that I had been waiting for, a huge gallery filled with blue and white porceleans, from 1640 on, all Japanese and amazing pieces. Upstairs was a magnificent gallery of laquerware, my current obsession. Fulfilling as that was, the best was yet to come, in the garden. I couldn't believe this was only ten minutes walk from TWS, and in such a built-up area, it was enormous, one could get lost in it, and it was like Kyoto, very perfect and you felt alone and there were little windy paths and so many vistas. I spent hours in there, inhaling the good air, and was totally at peace, totally refreshed and fully happy again.
This is what is a necessity.

Actually I drank the whole bottle

Broken man, broken house and some rice plants at the shinto temple
It is the big city story, and I can remember when I lived in New York, how much it obliterated the individual, and how lonely you could feel in such a crowded place. All these hard workers here, everyone actually hates it, it is just a means to an end.
I went to Asakusa yesterday, a big temple there, and very touristy, which participated in wholeheartedly. I had sushi for lunch and wandered the streets, Behind the temple there is an amusement park, with big rides, and you can hear the screams of terrified kids going on the drop machine, from the temple. The temple is such a noisy place, I guess it is maximum level at this particular one, Sensoji it is called, where hundreds come each minute and throw their money from afar, and people are yelling and laughing and others are shaking these boxes, where their fortunes come out (like a toothpick holder). But it amazes me how the temples have been adapted to house as many people as possible, in and out, no sermons, just up the steps, ring the bell, throw the money and clap your hands- not in that order, but really, it is designed for such a huge population to just get in and out as soon as possible.
I saw a disturbing sight at the shinto shrine, which I find compellingly ironic, a snow monkey performing for an audience. I couldn't believe they were allowed to do this on site, but there they were, clapping and laughing at the monkey. I took a photo, thinking, 'fucking monsters', how disgusting and immoral.
Oh well. But for the first time since coming here, I really felt like taking photos again, and just meandered through old alleyways, discovering all sorts of treasures, and seeing how life really is.
This is how many plates I ate at lunch.

Now I'm having a glass of wine

Australian wine, as I have worked hard all day, and it is time to unwind (I like that word), and hopefully get some sleep. I don't know if I should write everything on my mind, or censor some of it. Should I speak the truth? What is the point of publishing if it isn't honest? I love to read things people write, when it is from the heart, even if I disagree with it...and I think, who, other than my close friends even reads this? Its no massive revelation, don't get excited, its just my feelings.
Yesterday when I was on the train, no-one would sit next to me. The train was pretty crowded, and I saw many folk eye the space next to me, but obviously I was overlapping that bit too much and they didn't want to have that contact. It sure was upsetting, I was smooshing myself as small as possible in anticipation but nobody came through.
On the way home, a fellow did sit next to me, and I was so glad, I nearly smiled at him. It is strange being a stranger here, most people ignore me, but when a stranger does smile or acknowledge me, my heart zooms out to them with such gratitude.
But why are people scared of me? Because I am fat? Or white, or foreign, or a woman? Or something else? I make great attempts at hygiene, so I know I don't smell! I know I look very different from the majority of people here, and I think maybe they are afraid of me, perhaps.
I remember last time I was here, feeling the same way at first, but by my 3rd month, suddenly strangers in my neighbourhood seemed to see me, and I wasn't so invisible, in fact, some even made contact. I hate to think it was because I had lost weight, and was perhaps more attractive, or less repulsive. These are things that are on my mind, and I know I am not being paranoid.
Last night I was watching a doco on Kurosawa, the film maker, and he spoke about he sacrifices individuals were expected to make, on behalf of the common good. Maybe being fat demonstrates a greed, a voracious appetite that is selfish...I mean, I do eat more than many people, and choose the wrong foods, and eat for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with hunger.
But when I was coming home last night I still felt my life force surging through me, and I am feeling fitter than I have all year, since my operation, and I was walking tall, with confidence, striding and overtaking most people, and I just have to keep that image of myself in my head, and not collapse into a calorie sucking machine.
That said, last week I stumbled upon a small tent city and I took some photos, as theplaces were so well kept, and so small, and so interesting.
I feel that there is something wrong with me, taking photos of homeless people's dwellings, but I am also so drawn to makeshift shelters.

Nothing I attempt is easy

Thats how it seems to me, after 2 days of trying to print things and continually fucking up, making copies and new folders and just having the stupid apple logo laughing at me, as I fill my desktop space and hard drive with new copies...I try to use the help menu, and wah wah wah...
Fortunately the studio is a safe haven from these things, and I have felt good being in there, going in after hours, when everyone is gone and I turn up the music and get lost in the process. I suppose that is easy. After the year of defaulting on art work I feel an intense desire to make work again, and just produce.
This week I began my 'clean-up', beginning in an alley-way down the road, that is quiet. No-one goes down there and I gathered my materials and set them up in 5 minutes, that was easy. I don't know what the home owner across the way thought of it. I do know that someone looks after the alley, as when I first stumbled across it all these weeds were growing, but when I went to do my install, they had been carefully plucked, and neatly stacked. I found an old water damaged notebook, just the same as the ones I use, with weeds growing on it, and when I picked it up, all these slater beetles went scurrying. Even in a city as crowded as Tokyo there are insects filling the niches. Thats what I like about this project, it makes me examine the minutae of detail, and find previously un-observed delights.
I also had the fortune to visit Takusan, the Hanging Man. He did his action, in total hanging himself five times. There was a big toad in the garden which started moving when he entered, and a cat came and sat while he performed. A cricket began singing and the rain began falling. It was magic.
We then had dinner, and drinks, sitting in his tiny house around the table. I was blown away by what he spoke of, everything from physics to an ageing goddess, whose concepts he was going to be examining in his next works.

Domo...means sorry, please, thank you...

In all my life I have never seen ivy in flower



Many words have more than one meaning. Kaki, which means oyster, also means persimmon, for instance. And the word for yes, 'hai', can be said in many ways so that it can actually mean no. Just an aside.
I am into my second week and here and have walked a few more miles, drunk a lot more beer, and consumed my body weight in miso, rice and all sorts of deliciousness. I am doing yoga every day, and dealing with the air-conditioned 'luxury' by getting to a park (or at least near a tree), each day. I found behind the complex a wasteland of sorts, with a pond and many birds and butterflies. The scent of un-concreted land is phenomenal. I go and inhale deeply.
Lina took me one day to Jiyugaoka, a suburb where the pace is slower and there was a nice temple, Kuhonbutsu. No-one was around so we climbed over the fence and sat by a great tree that must be at least a thousand years old, it was heaven. I could feel the ground beneath me and the swarms of mosquitoes were most glad. But I thrive upon those refreshments, to counter the solidity and unending streets in this area. I have been craving vegetables so much and I feel like when I eat them I am replenishing more than just my appetite, its like I am putting the land back into my body. Fortunately on the weekends out the front of our building are these great organic markets, and I shop there. I have seen and tasted all sorts of new vegetables and fruits I have never had. The stall-holders are very keen and proffer samples readily. Ice cold cucumbers, no e-coli In fact that seems to be the case in the department stores as well, today I was meeting someone, and had an hour to wait. I was a bit hungry and wandered into the food court thinking i would buy a rice ball, but there were so many samples I basically snacked on a variety of nice things, and saved some cash!
I keep seeing re-cycling systems in place wherever I go, and wonderful things being made from rubbish, I feel what I am doing is virtually redundant here, but am still driven to make some objects and see how they survive on the streets.

Mushimushi

Hello sweethearts, I am on the other side and trying to find my feet. I think they are in my mouth and I don't know how to get them out except by writing hastily...
First things first, I arrived last week and was picked up at the airport and whisked into Tokyo where the first stop was an intimate tofu restaurant where resplendent dishes were presented to me in so many courses it was impossible to count.
All I can remember was deliciousness.
Following that were a few days of daze.
Last night I had the great pleasure of being escorted to the local bath house where I stripped and soaked with dozens of fine women in the most beautiful steaming baths, and was replenished beyond my wildest dreams.
Further than that the story shall unfold...but only gradually as right now there are no answers, only hesitation as I take it all in. I can deliver only a few photographs of the experience.