There is always a more artful way to do something.The Japanese people can take simple flowers from a garden, a well-chosen vase and create a visual morsel.
Not all will notice, but notice the ones that do.
There is a difference between looking and seeing. Looking can be superficial. Seeing is multidimensional and boosts colors, increases my sense of smell, and my connection to the surroundings.
I have seen Japan through the painter’s eye, thanks to the typhoon rains.
I understand the negative space better. It is what is left unsaid, not included, left out, and superfluous. Leaving what is left more important and treasured.
The negative space encourages the viewer to be part of the creative process and to complete the scene in their own vision. The “artist eye” takes more than two eyes. It takes a soul with vision.
Thanks to Mario & Liz for all the hard work that they did to make the trip such a memorable experience. And to all of our travel companions, whom I hope will be friends for life.
With Aloha,
Brian & Vicki
Japan November 8, 2017
Before coming to Japan I had this romantic view of the Tokaido Road between Tokyo and Kyoto. The old pathway was the inspiration of the famous woodblock prints by Hokusai and other artists. It was traveled by Samurai, bandits, conspirators, and commoners.
The self-guided architectural tour brochure says about the neighborhood:
We had a farm visit scheduled just after the second typhoon, Saola. The plan was to pick vegetables and deliver them to a farm-based Charter School where we would all cook our lunch with the kids in the school. The fields were rice paddle deep in mud so when we arrived, the teachers were preparing the food for all of us. The children had been looking forward to the day with the gaijin (foreigners) for weeks. They were preparing some of the food on a brazier in the middle of the entryway.Charcoal fires and smoke-filled rooms inside the home are a bit strange and I think we were taken aback. The teachers and the kids didn’t seem to mind. The floor looked like dirt but had been replaced by concrete sometime in the last century. This is a real farm to table experience.
Putting on the mask was an entrance to a spirit world, unfamiliar and disorienting, it felt like the plane of the stage was tilted and I was falling on my feet. The eye holes are tiny, adding to the feeling that you have left the room. Then Sensei told us we were now going to perform what we learned for the rest of the group. OH NO, a Noh master’s trick. There is Noh way you could do this. These skills take decades to be decent at even if you had a predispositioned Noh gene in the family.
But the best part of the day was the Happy Hour or two spent in a bar, in the caverns of the Umeda train station, with beers and multiple sakes with Takuya. The shop was a tiny place that would be intimidating for most visitors. It was a place we could have only gone to with Takuya. There were no chairs, only standing room for 8-10 people. Drinks and bar food are offered to the weary commuter. The curtain covering the door was the portal from tourist to traveler. When the bar patrons are lubricated with alcohol they morph into friendly loud extroverts and the foreigners, only us, in the bar are curiosities rather than inconveniences. Maybe they want to go home that night with a “I was drinking with Hakujins during a typhoon” story. We probably should have said goodbye sooner with the storm looming and one more long train ride to our hotel in Kyoto. But the longer we stayed the less we cared. As we were leaving finally there were multiple bows and lots of arigato gozaimasus.
