notes from tokyo

Friday, June 23, 2017



Of course, the writing that struck me most was from the book I didn't buy.

Tokyo Day 2: Already finding myself a nook in the middle of Comme des Garçonsreading excerpts from the Met's Art of the In-Between, collecting notes dotted with question marks I'd come back to again & again over the following weeks. I left home wanting to understand the idea of home better. Tokyo, where a scatter of childhood memories rooted in the delicate radius of a singular neighborhood, now years later, becomes a less tangible city, with new memories sprawling outwards. This city still feels like a piece of home, even though far less than half a life was spent here. The people make it this way. In the homes we create ourselves, over and over as we grow up, in someone else. Home is multiple places now, home is someone. Rei's words- on marriage, (the freedom to) stand out, blend in, how we say goodbyes in small & large ways, and continue saying these goodbyes after death. On the importance of becoming a child again to create, suffering to create, posterity, opulence. I visited multiple shrines, temples, cemeteries in Tokyo, then later in Kyoto, sacred places for people I knew, and knew nothing of. There's a stillness in these places that is really peaceful, brimming with energies of their own, an otherworldly feeling. 

images from Rei Kawakubo's Art of the In-Between and AnOther mag






"I called it the Ceremony of Separation. It's about how the beauty and power of ceremony can alleviate the pain of separating, for the one departing as well as for the one saying goodbye." 







"I want to be forgotten" 

















here / there

Thursday, June 15, 2017



 ここから
 そこまで

tokyo. 6.12.2017
your moon, my moon  


Blue

Monday, June 12, 2017



branches like arteries 
violent in the night, volatile
 and the small white petals drawing you
closer,

waking up what's asleep inside 


marguerite duras: 
the light fell from the sky 
in cataracts of pure transparency, 
in torrents of silence
and immobility. 


the air was blue, you could hold it in your hand.
blue. 
















every night was different, each one had a name as long as it lasted. 












 

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