Spring Cleaning

April is the pinkest month. Or reddest, if you are factoring complexions. I am always pleased to see these shades, as they replace the oppressive white and dismal gray of the preceding winter months. So revel I did, awalk in the Higashiyama hills, or at a variety of events throughout the city. On one incredible weekend, I joined a farewell potluck for Yuka, heading to a new life in Kanto. We sat beside the Kamogawa, eating and playing music. I ran into Rick and Douglas for the first time in a long while. Before the party, I realized that I didn't have enough tempura to share, so I decided to eat it all myself. As I sat alone, gazing at the movement of water, I felt what I at first thought was a bicyclist hitting my arm. It turned out to be a huge hawk, which had flown out of my blind spot to steal my food. Karma from above. Looking at the remains of my lunch, I decided to feed the group of about twelve hawks which had by now come out of nowhere. I'd throw a piece into the air, which they grab with their talons (never missing!) and flip into their beaks.
Come evening, I went uptown to Roger's housewarming party, with it's varied food and personalities. Then, with the clock flipping over into Sunday, I went home to greet Hide and Sawako, over from Osaka and staying the night.
The next day Hide gave a talk on totem poles at Honen-in. Afterward, I bid farewell and biked across town to Kara's own sayonara thing. As usual, the food and performances were fantastic. I've grown to love her theme parties, and will miss them as much as I'll miss her. She even gave me a didgeridoo, as if to commemorate our (admittedly short) friendship.

A few weeks later, Ben-chan (in town for two months!) and I were given free tickets to Miyako-odori. A few years ago, this kind of event would have thrilled me. And while enjoyable, it really brought attention to the shift into a new phase of my life here in Japan. While in the 'Nog, I'd always considered a life in the Kyo to be the pinnacle to one's stay, but now that I'm actually here, I'm hardly doing anything "cultural" at all. I suppose this reveals a sense of settling, being comfortable in whatever clothes you have on. Anyway, as the drumming called the first round of Maiko onto the stage, I couldn't help notice that they all looked computer animated. (The perils of formalized art.) The backdrops, representing the seasons, were beautiful, and through their bright hues I realized how much more colorful the world must have been, in those days before concrete and exhaust. The summer backdrop revealed a Kitayama mountainscape made familiar from long bike rides home. The effects overall were incredible, especially the fireflies which were basically long wires with small flashing lights at the end. (I like the thought that there were low ranking maiko at the other end of these wires, waving from above.) The music was lovely, though unmoving, which is my bias, not appreciating 'canned' music, even when it's live. I need spirit and more personal interpretation. Besides taiko and shakuhachi, most Japanese trad music leaves me cold. During the performance, I suddenly remembered that a year ago to the week I'd seen the shitty Hollywood interpretation of , "Memoirs of a Geisha" based on that even shittier book. (Essentially "Showgirls" in kimono, with a "8-Mile" interpretation on this very event which I was watching.)

A few days later, I went over to Ei-U-In to sit awhile with Satish Kumar, who was holding court before the beautiful garden. It was a very casual afternoon, with just a dozen people or so hanging out, talking freely about nature and spirit and whatever. I'm still amazed at Satish's eyes, so bright and alive. He wielded an incredible amount of energy, considering he was there all day. I at first was nervous to meet him, having reviewed his last book for KJ, but he enjoyed the review and actually thanked me. I thanked him too; it isn't often one meets a hero.

And April saw other things too--my own live Taiko performance; a Takeuchi hanami party; a trip to Tokyo for budo beers with Ben, Zack, Steve, Ron, and Brian; tough yoga with Gabriella. But I'm heading north for Golden Week and am out of words anyway...


On the turntable: "Festival in the Desert"
On the nighttable: E. Taylor Atkins, Blue Nippon"