Some forgotten notes from the recent Lapland trip. Full piece published here..
Funny how the ride in to city from the airport is through a landscape familiar--suburbs, box stores, commercial warehouses. That is, through a landscape familiar, one found in most countries. It is only when you approach a city center that you find it begins to take on a distinct cultural character.
Walking the streets of Oslo on a sunny Saturday afternoon late month, I was struck by the
incredible number of prams being pushed around, and was made even more aware of their
absence in infant-deficient Japan.
The mystery of boats floating in ice-bound slips in Oslo. How do they heat that water?
Riding along the world's highest railway, half of the seats in each carriage facing backwards. It was in one of these that I sat gazing out the window, musing on where I'd just been.
Comparing the aesthetics of Zen with Scando-minimalism.
Riding along the world's highest railway, half of the seats in each carriage facing backwards. It was in one of these that I sat gazing out the window, musing on where I'd just been.
Comparing the aesthetics of Zen with Scando-minimalism.
Musing in a cathedral, I think that it's nice to believe in a god, if that brings comfort. For me, God is just another name for hope. And hope is more a human instinct than divine.
On the nighttable: Fosco Mariani, "Meeting With Japan"
On the nighttable: Fosco Mariani, "Meeting With Japan"
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