Tokyo Travel Blog› entry 4 of 13 › view all entries
Harajuku. Meiji Shrine
- the sun just popped out from behind a cloud, and shadows jumped out to form a canal of sunlight down the center of the gravel road leading to the front torii (gate). It’s not often that shadows sneak up on you, in broad day light.
- Lucky me. Just walked thru the temple compound doors, right into a Shinto wedding procession. The bride and groom led beneath a red parasol. Nice touch to something old, to mark the beginning of something new. Onwards and upwards. I wish them the best…
Funny thought, that the style of the times calls for everyone else to dress like they’re going to a funeral: black. Stark and Straight.
- There is no way to describe the serenity, of sitting underneath the canopy of japanese maples, during summer. The small sparce vegetation and low grass dance about in the little gusts from the fanning of the maple branches. Crows cackle in the distance. And the maples sing like thousands of wind chimes in the midday breeze. I could almost build a home here, if only for a moment. I want the next full breeze to carry me away, into the air, floating
- international boundaries should not limit us, they should enrich us.
- you do not yet, understand, why people dance. (…in this phrase, i now understand the beauty of poetry, for there is no other way to say it.)
- six drunk old people in a neighborhood karaoke bar. they just needed a place to be happy. The keepers of the faith. the keepers of the good times. who’d thunk i’d find it here…5x5
- is there anything you want me to say, that you want to hear, that would make you feel better?
- a piano with a drum and a bell built in…how novel. WWNC. will wonders never cease
- sad ne? does the artist play the instrument? Or does the instrument play the artist.
- I find it is more enjoyable to see the artist in action, working. the song. the instrument. the opponent. tot important.
- some are masters of an instrument. some, are just masters.
- maybe the brushes moved on their own. maybe it was the absynthe talking. sometimes the artist is merely a producer. a medium. a marrionette himself.
- Adeel Wiess on a musicbox in japan. who’da thunk it. “Porter” Orgel = Music Box
- Delight: a word I had forgotten...
- he proposed, then he pulled out a ring and tried all my fingers. they were all too big. so he pulled out another thing with another ring. [I’ve never seen anyone so prepared]