Golden Week

(I am trying to find the best soundtrack against which to write this, but nothing fits my mood right now…and too often in the past I have sat down with the aim to write on a certain topic, but the music I listened to changed my mood and I never wrote what I had planned to. Thus, I am writing this against a background of silence with my noise-canceling headphones on, and nothing but faint car engine sounds from the street outside, the echoes of a heartbeat as blood pounds in my ears, and the plastic clacking of my keyboard as I try to turn emotion into words…)

The space bar ticks away like a clock...

I never made any plans for Golden Week. At first I had wanted to go to Kyoto, but since it's one of the most popular destinations during this holiday, it would be way too crowded and I probably wouldn't enjoy it as much as I could if I went some other time. Besides, I've done a staggering amount of sightseeing and exploring since coming to Japan and both my mind and body are really quite exhausted from all the new stimulation and experiences. If I decided to go on any more trips before sitting down and processing everything, it would all just be a blur and I would experience it all through only half-aware senses, like ordering a rich dessert after you've already stuffed your stomach to the limits - you just don't appreciate the dessert's value unless you wait and digest for a little while. So after one more excursion to Yokohama with some friends on the first Saturday of Golden Week, I decided not to go out until I had resolved some inner issues. Even on Sunday I woke up to get ready for Life Group and a day of church, but I felt in my heart that it would just be more busyness, and I didn't need any more of that; God wanted me to stay home and spend some time with Him. So I did.

At first I decided to use this free time to catch up on all of my homework and readings for class and knock out my first paper assignment so later on I wouldn't be as rushed, so I read one story for my Modern Japanese Fiction class, stretched out on my futon, the pages of the story spread over the floor in front of me. The story was supposed to be an example of a shift in the style of Japanese literature from the more traditional Romanticism to modern Naturalism. It was about an impoverished maid who decided to hang herself when she found out her lazy husband had stolen a bag of charcoal from a store and she knew they would be found out. The story had no emotion, the narrator completely stoic and unfeeling, only stating exactly what happened without any commentary upon events. It left me depressed - I don't like literature like that - so after jotting down a few notes on my reaction to the story, I took my laptop to the dining room and checked my email - hoping there would be enough facebook updates to give me a fix to ease my sadness. There were some, but as always it never quenched my thirst for heart-to-heart interaction.

And so far this writing isn't either….

So much of this break I've just been lying around thinking, trying to be productive, but usually staying up late into the night and sleeping in late into the day too entranced with my dreams to want to come back to reality…my dreams have been so vivid here, and even though I don't remember every piece of story that they held, there's little moments and flashes of them that stick with me. I always remember how my dreams make me feel. And they've been powerful lately…like they're a deeper reality than the waking world.

I read The Little Prince this week. It was great…short enough to read in one sitting, but it was packed full of great symbolism and meaning. I want to write things like this - entertaining but didactic.

I've been trying to orient myself in the last few days…not worrying about homework or any schedules or anything - just centering myself and remembering who I am and what I'm all about...

I have dreams…but I don't know exactly what they are or how to explain them…all I know is that inside of me grows something big, something deep…I know its dimensions, but I don't know its nature…it's too abstract to find the right words. My writing is a way of developing these dreams and bringing them into this world.

Through all of these flashes of thoughts I am well aware of how weird I may seem to those who read this…and to you I really don't have much to say in way of defense. I am who I am, and when I write, I want to write from my heart. I will never apologize for what comes out of my heart, for if I ever did, then I would be rejecting what makes me ME, and such a thing would be unforgivable. My entire life I have wrestled within my heart to try to understand what comes out of it. As a kid I let my heart dream freely…gave it free reign like a kite with no one holding the string. Then as I grew older and I became more aware of the larger world around me, I began to chastise my heart, pulling it down from the sky, and tried to control what it felt and did…but that only brought pain and depression. Through this long struggle I have decided that a life lived in slavery to rules is no life at all…there is no freedom there. And at the same time a life lived in complete surrender to selfish desire is fruitless and only leads to pain and death not only for myself but for others. The way in between is difficult to find - a place where you are true to yourself, but being aware that you share the world with other hearts and each action you take sends ripples through life that touch others.

Though I am a loner, I am not alone…it is true that no man is an island. Even though I withdraw from everyone else to meditate on life, I cannot remain like this; I must go out. Otherwise my heart becomes stagnant and dull. Thus communication with others is essential, and to me art is the essence of communication. Now, by communication I don't just mean talking or explaining something verbally. Although I know we can't always have deep conversations, I really get no satisfaction out of small talk. It has it's place and all, but after hanging out with people who only ever talk about inconsequential things, I always go away hungry for more.

One of my frustrations with hanging out with people here in Japan is that people just want to go do something entertaining…something that grabs your attention and drills pleasure into your senses, then releases you to go home.  I don't want to just go through my life being entertained for the moment…I want something more everlasting…I want the substance of life! I haven't met many people who follow this wavelength, or if they do, they don't talk about it…and so that is what I wander around on my own looking for...

I love traveling because everywhere I go and everything I see reveals more of the mystery of life that I dream about. I find it in short bursts of light and color…like a chance locking of eyes with a stranger coupled with a shy smile, then rushing on through the anonymous city…or the way the sun hits a little waterway snaking between concrete buildings at just the right angle to transform it from a nasty off-green color to a glittering of sparkling diamonds splattering everywhere…or when the wind blows through the train station just perfectly so the lady strutting in high heels in the opposite direction as you, completely consumed in her cell phone text message, looks like a model on a runway, her amber hair swirling behind her in a dance. There are so many moments like these that I see…and they only last for a second, then float away forever. I try to capture them in writing by carrying around a small notepad with me and jotting down notes as soon as I can…but beauty can never be completely captured…that's its nature…it's wild and free…no words could ever retell its true essence perfectly. I think that's what haunts most artists…never being able to truly communicate what they see with their heart. But they still manage to create masterpieces that touch just that spot in others to give them a glimpse of the beauty that the artist saw.

That is the art I want to create...

Why's this incomplete?

OK, so as you've noticed this blog is very fragmented and incomplete...see the thing is I'm finding it hard to get the time to write down everything that's been going on.  I've been so distracted by the whole experience and wonder of this place and so my time has been spent exploring and discovering rather than processing and downloading my thoughts...but now that school has started, I can try again to do this blog like I planned to...so there's more to come, but I figured if I just posted some of what I have, it'll get the momentum going!

Chorus of Sniffing

During my first few days of riding the trains in Tokyo, the weather was a bit on the cold side and a lot of people had runny noses. As I made my way to Sophia, I was holding onto the hand rails of one of the trains, just listening and observing, taking in the experience of the life of a commuter. Then my ears caught the sound of someone sniffing. I looked over at a man in a black suit with a white mask over his mouth. He must have been wearing the mask to keep everyone from getting his germs; how thoughtful of him. But then I heard more sniffing, and as I focused my hearing further, I realized that there was a consistent repetition of sniffs. Here and there, all over the train car people were sniffing. Yet the thing I didn't hear was anyone blowing their nose. They just kept sniffing, trying to keep everything in, while gravity kept frustrating their efforts. I remembered hearing from one of my International Relations T.A.s that in Korea it's rude to blow your nose in public. I wonder if the same is true in Japan? Although I have been in a ramen shop and the guy right next to me blew his nose rather loudly and no one else in the shop looked at him in offense. I have seen a few other instances where someone has done something that I heard was rude to do, but none of the other Japanese appeared to think it was. So my guess is that in Japan, it's all about context. They aren't narrow-mindedly following a cultural norm no matter where they go or what situation they're in; most of their customs originate in a desire to be thoughtful of others and to help society function more efficiently as a whole.

On reading a Japanese story set in the old pleasure quarters of Edo

Perhaps the reason why the stereotype of the Japanese housewife as a boring individual unable to please her husband is because, left alone at home there is little intellectual stimulation for her mind.  The same goes with common male laborers; it has nothing to do with one's sex!  And because the ancient Japanese courtesans were trained in the arts - poetry and music, etc - they were far more appealing to Japanese men than their dull, timid housewives.  No wonder they frequented the pleasure quarter so often.  It wasn't only bodily lust, but it was intellectual lust as well.  Be sure that your wife doesn't only stimulate you physically with her appearance but also mentally with her intellect and fascinating personality.  And she needs hobbies to keep her spirit bright and alive; if all she does is household chores, her dreams and spirits will dim for lack of use.  The woman that you fall in love with and marry should be nurtured as she is and watered so that she grows and blooms more beautiful.  A wife is not a wild flower that you pick because you admire it's beauty, then just leave it lying around to decay.  Instead, you need to pull it up from the roots carefully and put it in your personal garden to nurture and care for it, then enjoy watching her flourish as you lavishly pour your love upon her.

Note: this is a thought fragment, people!  Not a well researched theoretical essay, so don't get all irascible if you mistakenly think I'm a misogynist or something...I don't have time to be politically correct and account for every possible way you might interpret what I write...

Beauty from Afar

Somehow it seems that only in silent removal of myself from everything can I appreciate the beauty of things.  The touching scenes of a movie have nothing to do with me.  And I did not give a flower it's beauty.  These are all far beyond my reach.  So what then is beauty that involves me in it?  And can I sense it without withdrawing from it?

Railroad Crossings

The bells keep ringing, warning of death...and they ring throughout this city: death!  death!  ご注意！ It's no wonder I smell the stench of fear...

Beauty

If the majestic was meant to be impersonal, why do we so desire beauty?

Waiting in my hotel room

We stayed in a hotel last night near Narita Airport, and today we drive into Tokyo to stay at another hotel. I keep waking up at 4:30 am...I guess part of it is jet-lag, but mostly I just want to be let loose on Tokyo! So much to explore! This is going to be one amazing adventure over the next few months! =D

The Night Before

So I'm nervous but extremely excited. Well maybe just anxious is a better word than nervous. It's just such a different place from anywhere I've ever been before, but I can't wait to see what God has in store.

30 Randomocities...seems to be the latest wave of 'in' on the net

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 30 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 30 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. As a kid I used to climb up into trees and bend the branches to make a bed, then I would take afternoon naps up there.

2. The most frequently asked question directed towards me is "How tall are you?" And I'm tired of hearing it! I'm 6'6" and yes, I know I'm tall, but I did nothing to earn it; that's the way I am. I don't go around asking how short people are. I guess I like the attention, but it just gets really old after awhile, you know?

3. The second most frequently asked question directed towards me is "Do you play basketball?" And my answer is "I played in high school, but it's not really my favorite sport." This is usually met with a polite nod from the questioner and a cessation of the conversation since they no longer find me interesting to talk to since I’m not the star basketball player they hoped I was. You might think I have a complex about my height, but I'm merely being observant about situations I find myself in frequently.

4. The hardest question for me to answer is "Where's home?"

5. When I was a kid, I found an injured baby pigeon in my yard and took care of it until it was better. I named it Tweety, and after I let it go, if I stood under a particular tree and did a bird call it would call back to me. Sometimes it would just fly onto my shoulder or head when it saw me outside.

6. To this day, I am convinced that I have some of Crocodile Dundee's skill in communicating with animals, and on the occasion will attempt to strike up conversations with squirrels that I encounter. I promise, I'm not crazy. ;)

7. I day dream a lot, and often get caught up in my own world. My dad used to send me to the local park with an exercise list for me to do in preparation for football season. When I was out there doing my exercises I would spend my breaks trying to figure out the different calls of the field birds. When I played soccer, I usually played defender, and so had many times when I wasn't directly involved in the action. I would usually start daydreaming about the princess in the latest fantasy book I was reading. Then when she was kidnapped in the story, I would get angry and vow to play the soccer game for her…many shins were kicked. It gave me extra energy…like a sort of berserk mode.

8. One of my favorite pastimes as a kid was to catch butterflies with a handmade net and put them in glass jars with breathing holes. But when they all started dying, I felt badly about it and buried them. From then on I would only keep them in jars for a few minutes so I could show my mom, then I would let them go.

9. I also went through a frog collecting phase and at one point had at least 30 frogs in my bathtub.

10. When I was one or two (my parents aren't immediately at hand for consultation to verify my age), when I had not yet learned how to walk, my black lab named Nero ran away from home, and I followed him, crawling out of the yard and around the neighborhood. My parents tell me they finally found me on my way to crawling onto a busy road. We never found Nero. =/

11. I have played tug-o-war with a lion cub and a stick. It's amazing how strong they are!

12. I have had very mixed experiences with horses. My first experience was when I was little. My dad was riding a horse with me holding on behind him. He started galloping and I fell off right into a big puddle of mud! Bad start to horses. Then, in first grade we would have show-and-tell by bringing something in a bag and choosing someone to put their hand in the bag to feel and guess what the object was. For my show-and-tell, I borrowed my sister's Barbie horse and chose the girl that I liked as my guesser - she loved horses! Later, in music class, she rewarded my efforts by pulling me into her lap and kissing me. =D I once went on a horse-back safari and we trotted along with a herd of zebra. We got quite close to a rhino, but luckily there were no mishaps that time. Then there was the time that I got tick fever after riding a horse, and was sick in bed for a week straight. And the latest incident with horses was on a horse-back tour in the Drakensberg Mountains of South Africa. Our tour guide was leading the way along a narrow path near the edge of a cliff when she suddenly decided it'd be a good idea to start galloping. My sister's horse bolted after the tour guide's, and my horse also decided to race off to catch up. Now, English saddles do not have pommels like American saddles, and I had no idea how to ride a horse in a gallop. I saw my sister's horse stop up ahead and my sister fall off the saddle next to the horse. Then I was thrown over my horse's head onto the ground in front of it and watched it jump over me. Thankfully it didn't step on me. In spite of the incredible back pain and nasty bruise from the fall, along with my other experiences, one day I would like to become a fairly proficient equestrian.

13. I once got second in a spelling bee…and the word I misspelled was….'stallion'!!!! GRRRRRRR, those darn horses!

14. My first grade field trip was prematurely interrupted by a family of rhinoceros. We had to abandon our lunch on the picnic tables and then the monkeys came and stole everything before we could come back for it.

15. The late Vice President of Zimbabwe, Joshua Nkomo, once kissed my hand when I met him.

16. I have played the following sports for at least one season: American Football, Rugby, Soccer, Field Hockey, Basketball, long-distance running, swimming. Out of these I'd say my favorite is Rugby...followed closely by hacky sack ;D. I have never been seriously injured from any of these sports, though I'd say I have more scars from three years of rugby scrapes than from all of the other sports combined.

17. I have played guitar since I was 14, but it has not been consistent and my skills are still very mediocre. Nevertheless, I love playing!

18. In elementary school in America I once brought a bag of dried worms from Africa to class and tried to make money off of my classmates by charging them to see me eat the worms. Unfortunately the other guys in my class weren't grossed out enough by the idea and ate some themselves…no profit was made =/

19. In middle school and intermittently during high school, I would style my hair into individual spikes that covered my head. It would take me up to 30 minutes every morning for me to be satisfied that every spike was perfectly in place, and I missed the bus for school several times because of this vanity. Not proud of this fact, but I did get many compliments on my hair!

20. I am a perfectionist and I have a very critical eye for most things. However, I have come a long way in toning down my obsessive nature.

21. I eat absolutely anything and can't really think of anything I would flat out refuse. There are foods I don't enjoy very much, but I could still eat them. Although, despite my attempts at becoming Japanese, natto is just not very appealing. =/

22. Nicknames I've had over the years: Scooby, Shaggy, Jordie, Stone Cold, JC, George, Yank(ee), Big Friendly Giant (BFG), Schecter, Justin (>_<), Daniel (I don't know how they got that one), Zulu Missile, Silent Pimp (SP) <--- don't ask! ;P

23. I looooooooovvvvvvveeeeeeee reading! I love stories in any shape or form: books, video games, song lyrics, oral, paintings, whathaveyou. My favorite genre is sci-fi/fantasy. Classics and epic poetry are also tasty...

24. I want to be a writer - not just the next Tolkien and Lewis, but something different. I want my writing to be practical as well as imaginative. I want it to connect fantasy to reality so that people don't just want to live in my created world, but they want to go out into the real world and do something to change the way things are so that it might be just a bit closer to paradise. I am currently working on my first novel - naturally, a sci-fi/fantasy epic.

25. I've been in a music video - Demon Hunter's "Fading Away." It was awesome.

26. My sense of humor is very dry and quite often jokes are discovered only through convoluted and stream-of-thought reasoning, so no one but myself finds the joke funny. I am, however, quite capable of appreciating most all other types of humor; I'm just not good at making the jokes myself.

27. I am descended from Vikings, but I was born and grew up in Africa, my citizenship is American, and I secretly believe I am Asian inside.

28. Weird talents include: flipping my eyelids inside-out, double-jointed in almost all fingers, flapping my scapulae like wings. As a kid when I first figured out how to cross my eyes, I would go around claiming that I had the ability to see through objects, and I honestly believed I could…it was much later that I realized I was only seeing through an image of the object, not the object itself!

29. I have lived in 5 different countries (soon to be 6), and have gone to 9 different school systems (soon to be 10). Despite my veteran status at it, moving is still not easy for me.

30. I'm horrible at small talk because I mostly only speak to gather information or give it out. Usually I am too caught up in thinking about things and about what other people have said to think about what I should say. I guess this makes my skills of listening and observation pretty good, which helps me as a writer…I love a good description.

- This was easier than I thought it would be…brought back a lot of memories…but I only had 30 slots and embellished too much, so I'm finishing here.