テレポートヒーローです

どこにでもある唄 by Ninomiya Kazunari.

What a beautiful, beautiful song with beautiful, beautiful words.

 

Sometimes, I am stump for clever titles for posts that I make. So I guess instead of sitting there wasting time trying to think up something clever, I should just type in whatever first comes in to mind. I have let too many urges to write slip away this way.

So, from my previous post I mentioned that I had managed to get myself signed up for pottery sessions. I hesitate to say ‘enrolled’ and ‘classes’ because from the first moment I stepped into the studio (read: shed), it felt like it would end up being more of a pottery session, than ‘class’, like how one would expect for classes to run based on regimented course outlines and fixed term periods.

The place is called Clarinda Arts. From what I understand, it has a community focus and classes are much more affordable than those offered at university department short course centres or creative schools. I paid for the initial 8-weeks session, and what cemented it for me was when I asked Jenny, the course coordinator, what happens at the end of the 8 weeks and she just looked pointedly at me and said, “You just keep coming.”

This is nice because for me who has always engaged in creating art since school (sometimes successful, sometimes not), it feels like it will be a life long process of honing the skills, testing, developing and getting to know the material, the tools and my own body (hands, fingers, joints you name it). In my heart it definitely tells me that this is the right studio to go to because I’m not one who believe that an artform can be perfected in a set period of time.

I like that the people who comes in to the studio has the freedom of developing their pottery according to the pace the decide themselves. Last week being my first session, I was given 3 different lumps of clay of different compositions just to feel the sensation of clay and its clayness in my hands, between my fingers. I was told, the core of pottery lies in pinching, and it is through mastering the control of the fingers making pinch-pots one starts to have an awareness of how malleable and fragile clay can be. It is plastic to begin with, but when overworked, it also very easily becomes dry and fissures will begin to appear on the surfaces particularly the rims. So, I have become aware that clay is in fact very much an active and alive material. Thus, just like dealing with another human being, it can be extremely challenging and frustrating, and yet rewarding.

Today, the experimental pinch-pots I made the previous week had gone through the first round of firing and Jenny said I could experiment with glazes, which I did. I tried 3 different variations of the basic Leach’s limestone with different percentage of iron with iron oxide accents brushed on the rims.

 

The thing about glazes, they must be mixed thoroughly. Not hazardous for direct handling, but should not be inhaled.

Buckets of glazes already mixed for use in the studio. Jenny explained a great deal about the elements and chemistry of glazes, but I think I really must read up more about it to even understand the basics!

My first pinch pots. Not the best looking things, but the key here is trial.

The top pinch pot has been turned into a furin bell. It has been coated with a clear glaze only. The other four, I’d like to think will become something I can pass for sake cups. All the rims has been brushed with iron oxide. The fourth on the right has a combination of 7% and 2% iron glaze just as an experiment to see how it will turn out.

Again, from a different angle. I wonder after the second firing what colour the unglazed portions will turn into.

Something unrelated to pottery, the house behind the studio belongs to a Vietnamese family. Outside the glazing room window, I could see this tree just filled with persimmons! What an incredible sight!

So at the end of class, K. went on her mission with an oversized pottery bucket to do some ‘pickings’. Incredibly, the wife came out and helped her fill the bucket! It must be with all that fruit, it is quite impossible to finish it all and rather than for it to go to waste, we all went home with apron-fuls of persimmons. Not quite ready to eat yet, but a few days on the window sill will do!

So, that’s pottery class 2 in a nutshell. I certainly can see that I will enjoy it because it affords a lot of time to be quiet and in thought which for me is always important. It’s such a quiet and introverted activity and it promises a lot of respite from the hectic and stressful tasks I face daily at work.

Since my return from Japan, work has been incredibly tough and causing me lots of sleepless nights. My kendo has suffered because I am yet to be able to leave the stress and worries of work out of my mind and maintain focus to train as I should in kendo. But, as much as I would like to write about the events that takes place (just as a record to remind myself that I am not going crazy), I think it would be wise that I don’t. I have heard enough news about individuals losing their jobs due to careless blogging et cetera, et cetera.

Nonetheless, I have come to realise something. It is best to perform to my own standards rather than to follow blindly,  in the name of meeting deadlines/meeting clients’ demand. I know I have standards, and those standards are high (thanks to 11 years of Catholic school education), I will work to my standards and not compromise for anyone, any client or any project. It is time I take charge of how I conduct the projects and their processes in then manner I myself can live with. It will be hard, it will be a challenge. But this is my life, and I will make it through my way.

One of the many reasons why I can never fall out of love with Japan 「Video of toddlers dancing and singing to Troublemaker. The ハート♥ part is especially cute」.

～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～

 

In The Great Railway Bazaar, Paul Theroux wrote,

“…If a train is large and comfortable you don’t even need a destination; a corner seat is enough, and you can be one of those travellers who stay in motion, straddling the tracks, and never arrive or feel they ought to-…”

Golden Week, 2012

Whenever I go to Japan, I always make it a rule for the trip to be enriching and educational by visiting some building of significance in the field of architecture, some temple or shrine of some historic or spiritual reverence, or some famous natural attraction raved about by some noteworthy travel guide or other. As I had also intended for my most recent trip but alas, due the lack of time and preparation 「default scapegoat: work」 I only just managed to work out and print out directions to my hotel mere hours before boarding the plane.

I had half expected myself to feel overwhelmed with guilt for not making the most out of the trip but on the contrary, I did made the most out of the trip. Without the mad tight schedules of location A to be at, attraction B to see and train C to not miss…none of my usual “responsible tourist” checklists to tick off, the trip was like the corset removed, and I actually felt like I was living for once in a very long time. To say the least, I needed the time away from Melbourne. And away from work and all that that drains me mentally and emotionally.

From the moment the DeG group was united, all I did was indulge, indulge and indulge. Never before had I travelled with the sole intention of satisfying my fleeting urges. It had felt so good to break my own rules.

 

^Shelves after shelves of all kinds of alcoholic beverages imaginable. On the other reverse side the standard beers (which are not at all standard even by Australian standards). I could exist happily in this country. Or even just along this aisle.

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^DeG ate here, so we eat here. It is a Chinese-style ramen joint. Look at the line. I doubt however that all those people are DeG fans.

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^The only way to describe it, it was めっちゃおいしい！！

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^At the grounds of Kiyomizu-dera, enjoying some matcha kakigori and shiratama zensai in the light breeze before we headed to ring the bell and get our omikuji.

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^The larger than life advertising displays at Dotonbori will never get old.

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 ^I don’t know what’s in Bird Land but this painted sign sure is cute.

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^With the だるまmannequin 「a kushikatsu, 串カツ joint」where we had too much food and beer. On this night, J. and I had 3 dinners plus dessert in the space of 2 hours.

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^The Kuidaore 「食い倒れ」 drumming clown. I think his name is Taro. Kuidaore 「食い倒れ」 means to eat to one’s destruction. You can watch Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservation feature on Osaka here.

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^Looks like one of my kendo sempai! A very, very good and very, very scary and serious sempai at that.

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^No time spent at Dotonbori is complete without having takoyaki sold from the side stalls.

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^We ordered 2 kinds: spring onions with egg, and grated daikon.

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^Why did I take a photo of these kitchen exhaust vents? Because I always appreciate seeing the bits and mechanics that keeps a building functioning and alive more than its shiny facade.

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^More strange shop sign in Dotonbori. This one is strange and wrong on so many level.

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^I can’t be sure whether this is a little smurf, drawf or gnome.

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^So many advertising crowded together you almost wonder how do patrons make way up those 2 winding stairways? I also love those flower pots and white sheer curtains outside the first floor windows on left.

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^Did you notice the ninja in the background in the photo above? It had me completely ninja-ed.

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^Austere and covert entrances that doesn’t seem out of place in loud and brash Dotombori. One of the appeal of not just Dotonbori, but the whole of Japan. Everything from the old, new, minimalist, garish, o-share, Shibuya-cheap, ganguro, lolita, visual…it all works !

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^Maneki neko, the Beckoning Cat, on the side of a building in an arcade off Dotonbori.

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^After kushikatsu and takoyaki, it’s time for some dessert ~ Turkish ice cream to cool down the body. This fellow is a staple in one of the arcades. Buying a cone from him will see you react involuntarily like a silly child at all the tricks he will pull on you before handing over the icy treat. Naturally I made a complete fool out of myself in front of Osakans and other foreigners alike. But it’s alright, the next paying victim will have his or her turn.

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If I am not mistaken, this is Ukiyo-kouji 「浮世小路」, a narrow alley way with installations and diaoramas depicting what could be scenes at former Ukiyo Alleys in their heydays. Ukiyo would be what used to be (or in some areas of Japan still are) the pleasure districts.

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^A photo of one of the many diaoramas on the walls. For some strange reason, the layers of string streamers reminded me of a scene in the Tsuiokuhen OVA.

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^In Japan, sometimes you’d notice these miniature toriis stuck outside building walls, usually in a corner position. Supposedly a symbol of purification, I wonder if it has the same significance in these kind of context.

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^Dotonbori, what can I say? (^_^)v

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^I kind of want one of these scooters. How easy would it be to park!

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^Two shiba inus standing watch over the entrance to a love hotel.

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^Together with back of buildings, I also enjoy studying the confused mass of power and communication cables, lamp posts and all that. I don’t quite understand urban planners’ obsession with wanting to bury these essentials that powers the clockwork of human existence.

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^Glico man from Dotonbori-bashi looking towards Ebisu-bashi. J. had me pull a Glico man pose under the neon signs while he captured the pose from the opposide side of the river. As I walked to position, there appeared to be a number of homeless men sitting on the benches along the boardwalk just observing and just being…and I suppose just waiting for the day to end and for the crowd to disperse and the rowdiness to die down. I can’t help but feel a heaviness in the heart 「気持ち重い is a closer expression」 observing this. I suppose that is the ugly reality to any place on earth. Despite all the キラキラ shadows will always lurk sometimes right under the glitter itself.

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^The infamous Glico man who stopped running for a few weeks in consideration of energy consumption following the Tohoku Earthquake.

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^Our third dinner at Kinryu Ramen 「金龍 ラーメン」. The kimchi was explosive but simply delicious. For some reason, these two in the photo, I don’t know what their relationship are, but they reminded me of myself and my brother. For our extreme love of food, we could have collaborated on an eatery this one had we not both be in so much love with our respective professions.

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^After a night of gastronomy, I board the Hikari bound to Tokyo to reunite with the DeG group. I could relate so much to Theroux’s observation on train travels. There is no equivalent for me the feeling of sitting by the window, looking out and taking in the passing scapes with the melancholic tunes of Ryuichi Sakamoto playing on the ipod.

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^When I got in to Tokyo, it started to rain which turned into days of relentless rain. Met up with the girls at Ikebukuro and spent the afternoon shopping in Sunshine City. A quick snack break at Ducky Duck and we headed to Swallowtail, a butler cafe. I suppose if there are Maid Cafes, it’s only fair that there exists Butler Cafes to cater for the female population. The whole experience was interesting, our butler was very attentive and thorough with all explanations whether it was to do with his role in our dining experience, or explanations of the menu or descriptions of the chinaware used. I can understand how some girls really get into the whole roleplaying experience, and I can imagine that if I had one Saturday where I simply didn’t want to meet up with anyone familiar or deal with crowds, I could certainly appreciate being waited on by polite and respectful ‘butlers’. Although I would probably find it too troublesome and bothered to not even be allowed to lift my fingers to refill an empty teacup, and to have to be escorted to the washroom.

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^The image above is for what is called a めがねースーツ 「megane-suits/spectacles and suits」 bar which is where we went after Swallowtail.

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^With M. goofing outside. We are girls after all…My bartender made a concoction of salted sakura petals over a base of nihon-sake with salt crystals on the outside of a scotch glass. The theme was seasonal Japan. I was very impressed with the mix and presentation and again appreciated the respectful way he approached me. Perhaps because of my gaijin status, I didn’t feel any come-ons at all although I can’t be too sure if there is that motive hidden behind their interactions with their patrons. Sadly, I have no photo of the cocktail which probably made the memory of its taste and appearance much more significant.

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^T.-san who made my cocktail. He looks like any other normal guy you’d see squeezed into rush-hour train if you asked me. There was another guy who called himself トトロ「Totoro」 which, I’m terribly sorry, I just can’t take seriously of…

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^This is only as significant as the thunderbolt is to Thor…

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^Never imagined I could be this close to 薫’s guitars. So close that the dust specks, scratches etc. are all visible. I would have kissed it if it weren’t for the ESP staff guarding the guitar displays like hawks on the prowl.

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^According to J. and R., 薫 signed the date wrong 「It should have been the 6th」 and the ESP staff were trying to distract them diverting their attention from spotting a famous guitarist hiding behind display racks from fangirls oggling at his guitars. ^.~

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^ESP Shrine to worship Kao, Die and Totchi’s instruments - check.

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^Dinner at Ninja Restaurant in Akasaka.The lighting was definitely too dim for even half decent photographs so I just concentrated on eating and drinking. The service was great, at the end of the meal there was a ninja magic show which was mind boggling. I’d definitely return again, maybe next time I can take my brother and his family.

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^Our ninja bidding us farewell after the meal. He also held up a French version for M. Poor A.-san who is Japanese said she’s the one who didn’t get any special farewell greetings.

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^It was still raining after dinner. And I suppose nothing can stop those on a mission, I was brought to the Miracle Jump cafe. At the very beginning, I did say that I like to make my trips educational and enriching…at Miracle Jump, I received exposure of a different kind. The concept of Boy-Love 「BL」 is something we’ve all heard about I’m sure, and in Japan, there exists places like Miracle Jump where the boys 「they work there, kind of like semi-hosts」 act out the fantasies of the customers who orders a BL Shaker, where for a ￥1500 customers get a cocktail, and an act . But it is relatively safe, because although I said ‘act out‘, they will only go as far as touching and never kissing or more. The customers are usually girls, but when we were there there was a table with a guy and girl, and the guy appeared to be too happy to just be accompanying his girl friend to a BL Cafe. To make the experience complete, I ordered a BL Shaker myself and had them perform the act on the couch sandwiched between R. and myself. I can say we must be tired, old, jaded sarariwomen, as nothing about the act was embarassing at all 「we’re all adults…we know what happens behind closed doors and more…」 but I did feel a kind of a sorry feeling for what I’m not entirely sure. Unlike Swallowtail which imposes a strictly no photographs rule, you can actually see photos of the boys of Miracle Jump on their website.

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^J. in her gusto pose before we attacked the caramel parfait at the Miracle Jump cafe. Sweeter than the boys, the parfait was.

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^I gained myself a Miracle Jump point card. Koutaro Uesugi, is apparently a kendoka, so I get to have a fanservicing fictional kendoka character on my point card for a BL Cafe that I am very unlikely going to visit again. A kendoka… it almost felt sacriligious but I reasoned, at least it has some kind of significance or common theme to me even if just by design.

^M. and A-san. Okonomiyaki lunch at Ike.

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^On the other side of the table, E., J. and R. I think I pulled more ピース and ハート signs in that one week than I ever did up until this point in my whole life. Japan drives me nuts. In a very, very good way I must say.

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^We ordered レディーズランチセット「ladies’ set lunch」and it came with a serve of yakisoba, okonomiyaki and oolong-cha. Japanese ladies being timid eaters is definitely a myth.

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^While it continued to rain outside, we head up to level 4 for a session of karaoke. I love the paradox we present, a bunch of lovely ladies sipping tea yet growling out Dir en grey.

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^A.-san, J. and R. More than meets the eye.

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^R., E. and A.-san. K was very, very fun and I can’t wait to do it again.

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^On my final night in Tokyo, we dined at the new Alice in Wonderland inspired theme-restaurant. Again, just as with Ninja Asakasa, the lighting was terribly dim in the restaurant for good photos but we did managed to have a group pic at the entrance taken by the lovely door host dressed in a cute Alice costume. The background is fashioned like a giant book which is also pivots open as it is the entrance door.

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^My ekiben 「駅弁」, uni-don from GranSta Tokyo Station for the shinkansen back to Kansai. I had to hold on to it as the shinkansen was going so fast the whole bowl was sliding around with each curve in the tracks.

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^Part of the reason why gazing out the train is so therapheutic and relaxing for me, I suppose, is because I have always been a driver. And being a driver is sometimes very taxing for the mind and concentration because you have to be aware of what is happening not only on your own part, but you also always have to pre-empt what other motorists will do. So, any chance to hand over the reign to another driver, motor or train, is a most welcomed change.

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^Each trip I accumulate these random snapshots out of a moving train. Although they may all end up looking the same – empty streets, crowded streets, roof tops, rolling greens etc., they are all still very different.

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^And so just like that, one week past. From this side of KIX looking back at that side of Osaka, I trust I already missed Japan that first day I landed. I have come back to live my life in Australia, but certainly what I call my こころ is rooted in Japan.

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^On transit in HK, the thunderstorm came in in earnest, lightning in the distance. Ground operations were halted and our plane ended up being delayed for over an hour. Unlike the peace I get from trains, the older I get the more I come to dislike taking flights. Naturally coupled with the storm in HK, I didn’t have as good a flight as I had hoped for to end a marvelous GW.

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^I killed time at the departure lounge snacking on this Japanese phenomenon of stringy cheese.

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^Something I wish I could buy in the local stores here in Australia.

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^Back in 2008, I was looking out of train windows too. Enroute to Poissy, France.

“I don’t know what is my fascination with journeys. Long, train journeys, in particular. I don’t know what is my fascination with looking out the window, taking a snapshot occassionally. The speed of the train usually in a contest with the speed of the shutter to the camera I happen to be carrying. Some journeys, my equipment could keep up, and somehow capture the surrounding buildings, scenery, whatever it may be. Some journeys, the train wins, and I capture nothing but blurred lines in the background. The only thing of any clarity at any time would be the lines of the tracks. No matter where, Spain, Japan, Paris, Edinburgh, Sydney. That’s the only thing that’s clear – the lines coming and the lines we leave behind. So I don’t even know why I love looking out the window on train journeys so much.”

～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～。～

Back to reality

It’s been on my mind for a while, but everything fell into place and I am now enrolled in pottery class at Clarinda Arts. Yesterday being my first class, I made some pinch pots as you can see in the image above. It was certainly most interesting, and like I said to B., pottery is going to be another frustrating hobby I’ve picked up after kendo. But as with kendo’s case, I am most excited about spending the rest of my life with these two activities.

I guess, with all these new things that I am doing, I am welcoming the next part of my life, looking forward to growing up and old.

This afternoon, after supressing a whole week’s worth of craving, I drove leisurely in the public holiday traffic to Camberwell for a treat of chilli hot cocoa from Koko Black. Geographically, around 4~5 suburbs away from where I live, around 15 minutes drive in the calm of the public holiday roads. I even stuck to the speed limit the entire time which is rather rare.

First stop was Dan Murphy’s to stock up on a bottle of Glenmorangie single malt whiskey, plum wine and a bottle of cheap sake. As I was paying, the showers came. But that was fine, I wasn’t in any hurry so I waited a while for the rain to subside under the awning before returning to the car to stow away the newly purchased bottles.

After that, in the light rain, I walked along main strip to Koko Black. Or I thought I was. It didn’t quite register that the shop had disappeared until I reached the intersection where Sushi Sushi is. I thought in my daydreaming state I must have missed it so I turned back and retraced my steps. But true enough, my walk took me back to Trampoline the ice cream place and Koko Black was nowhere to be found on my right. That’s right. I hadn’t come down this path for a while, the shop must have closed down or moved. And so, I was unable to satisfy my craving for chilli hot cocoa which would have been perfect for today’s weather, slightly cool, windy with the occassional rain.

Well, I might as well, I thought, since I was already at Camberwell. Walked back to Sushi Sushi for some salmon sashimi and salad for lunch. As I went to collect the car, I made a final stop at Coles and bought bunches of alstroemeria and carnation, half price hot cross buns, jam roll cakes and a lemon madeira just to make up for chilli hot cocoa not had.

Now, with an inch of whiskey and Murakami’s 1Q84, I hope to prolonge the remainder of the day until I have to wake up again and report myself to work.

And just like that, the Easter long weekend is almost over.

I know you are but what am I?

Hello everyone. How have you all been?

Posting has been very irregular in the past months. Sometimes I wonder if I will every find the trigger to snap me out of this stagnant state and write a little bit more.

It’s not that nothing much has been happening. Perhaps it’s more that so much has happened, that to sit down and begin writing and re-accounting the events puts me in such a disoriented state that I end up staring blankly at the screen, not knowing where to start.

Work is a little bit uninspired since the beginning of the year. I’d like to think that it’s just how the economy is, and that I’m tired of the environment and the clients. But I’m more afraid to think that it might be something in me that has changed, that has lost interest or faith in this crazy world that I can no longer categorise called architecture.

Kendo training has been slowly reestablishing it’s prominence in my existence. 3 times a week I force myself to stand behind the shinais of my sempais and get chased up and down the dojo building up my kihons until my arms feels like lead and my calves cramp up from dehydration.

But I suppose all that amounts to something.

This evening I managed to do souji, the entire length of the dojo without once tripping over. Small achievement for many I’m sure, but for me, it was like a milestone. So silly, to feel such happiness from something so small and trivial. I managed to do 3 laps before the legs tire out. Despite that, I feel encouraged and am in fact looking forward to Thursday night training to see if I can manage the 4th lap without kissing the floorboards.

This evening also, my second shinai splintered. I suppose it’s a combination of the recent heat, use and lack of care (moisture) but that was another milestone.

Kendo training always drains every bit of energy reserve from me but afterwards, everything just feels so good. I’m always buzzed after training nights and most of the time I find it hard to fall in to sleep simply because my mind, psyche is still riding on the high and positive energy. I must learn how to draw on this energy and remember it when I wake up the next morning, ready to face another day of work.

With that, I see that it is now 5 minutes to midnight.  Even if sleep doesn’t come, I better lay down and rest the muscles.

I hope everyone is well.

I want the weather to become cold again. So I can walk the streets littered with brown, gold, auburn leaves and hear the crushing sound beneath every step.

 

In the middle of breakfast this morning, it started to rain. I was toasting my bread on the hot plate as I always do whenever I wanted toasts. I have yet to walk past another toaster selling for 10$ since that one time several months ago at Vic Gardens. I’m cheap like that. But it’s not entirely by choice, I’ve made do just fine all these months without and my kitchen bench will protest having another appliance beside mr. kettle and madam rice cookier.

At first it sounded like the stove rangehood, and then it sounded like my retiree neighbour vacumning. At one point while I was shoving toast into my mouth standing beside the sink, I thought it might even sound like the laptop fan on an overdrive. Only as I stepped out of the little alcove that is my kitchen I realised it was rain.

Rain, rain, rain. I like rain on weekends. It muffles out the traffic sounds outside my window until only the rumble of the Melbourne Bus Links buses is discernible.

I woke with a throbbing head this morning. Coupled with a sore shoulder. I fell asleep half reclined against the bed head reading Murakami‘s Norwegian Wood. Last evening I caught the movie at Nova with A. Being Murakami and Jonny Greenwood fan, I’ve been looking forward to this film since seeing the poster announcing its release at Nova few months ago.

Having read the book many times over cover to cover, I must admit once the first scene started rolling, it was Jonny Greenwood’s soundtrack that I was anticipating. And after what might be just 30 seconds or it may have been 10 minutes, it struck me how incredibly silent the film is. Unlike most films, the movie adaptation Memoirs of a Geisha comes to mind, which uses a soundtrack of sweeping, swooping instruentals to fill and in more ways than one create the scene, Norwegian Wood is for most part silent. So silent that sometimes it felt awkward because it feels so very close to real lift. I think we all want to imagine our lifes unfolding with dramatic background music as accompaniment, but in actual fact, most of the times, the confronting times especially, it is devoid of all that except the presence (or absence) of voice. It is quite refreshing especially in scenes where Watanabe reads in front of the murky pond that there is just the sound of nothing accompanying the scene, and when Watanabe and Naoko takes refuge behind the tree in the strong wind and only the roar of the wind is heard.

There are many great scenes that I really enjoyed, and in the end, it wasn’t even Jonny Greenwood’s soundtrack that left the biggest impression on me. The movie is beautifully filmed and the landscapes are simply breathtaking, especially the grounds around the Ami Hostel. The retro furniture and costumes makes me want to trade mine with the Salvos. What is greatest is probably the genius of Murakami himself, the characters feels so much like real life. Watching their fucked-up-ness on big screen, in some perverse way, makes me feel like I’m not crazy after all. Or should that be, we’re all a little crazy inside? Heh. Whatever it might be, I’m certainly fond of Murakami’s writings.

For now, I have 1Q84 to look forward to. Only 2 more days now.

-Saturday, 22 October 2011

~ ~ ~

“Where are you now?” Where was I now?

South facing, Unit 6.

I’ve been 3 months in this 1-LDK unit. I’m appreciating the solitude and the space I have to myself. C. dropped by today and brought me some bright, lovely gerberas and a box of mochi. We had Korean dinner at Carnegie at night and it was great catching up about each other’s lives and amusing ourselves with the portions of food we ordered and 90% finished. I just love moments like that where the general mood is truly, simply eat, drink and be merry. Calm and peaceful moments like this dinner has been rare lately with work (how I detest this 4-letter word!) consuming my life and persona.

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Some photos:

In my mailbox one Thursday evening after kendo training:

 

This weekend, we had a fund raising lunch after training for the replacement of the dojo floors:

This weekend, I started training with the men. I feel this is the next step of the many, many steps I will take in this kendo part of my life. The best thing, whatever one wants to call it, I’ve entered into in my whole 30 years of life. I hope I continue to grow, to strengthen in character, mind, body and person in this kendo journey.

-Sunday, 23 October 2011