Magnificent

Slow life

 

When I left New Zealand I had rings under my eyes. Sorry Wellington I love you, but you really wore me out. Six years in the wind and the rain left me tired. Life was so busy and I took pride in everything I was achieving even if my mental health was suffering slightly. 

When I came to Japan I couldn't believe how hard everyone worked. My co workers come in at 8am and leave at 8pm. They looked tired. They don't take weekends. Inexplicably I have been granted some kind of magical gaijin (foreigner) pass which means I leave the office at 4.30pm every day and everyone thinks this is okay.

Despite my co workers hard working tendencies I have noticed a trend in Japanese culture that promotes a slow life. My favourite Japanese magazine is ku nel. This loosely translates to eating/sleeping. The magazine has a fat blobby tellytub like mascot who languidly lounges across the pages. He is full of food and ready for a nap. The fat blobby mascot wouldn't like gossip magazines, hair straighteners or energy drinks . He would say 'eat and sleep instead!'

The slow culture goes against everything we are supposed to do in our fast paced lives, especially the pace of Asian modern life. The slow culture tells us to savour the food we eat and never be hungry, to smell the flowers, pot a plant, listen to music, sleep for as long as we want and take a bath. Most importantly, don't be tired, be happy. 

The film Megane or Glasses has a complete devotion to the slow pace culture with the main character escaping city life to encounter a holiday of eating, serene surroundings and a strange yoga like poses on the beach. Very little happens in the movie, but I think that's okay. Nothing has to happen. It's a refreshing to take a break all the same.

Adventure

I love books like Into the Wild and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Protagonists who search deep within themselves to find answers to questions that have riddled them for years. It's a great thing to explore this big wide world and ask 'what is all of this?' all the while holding tightly to your ability to imagine and experience awe. This doesn't mean you have to have lots of money to travel all around the world, just explore further than your front gate, your street, your suburb. And at very worse, if you can't leave, step into your imagination. I love this quote by Chris McCandless about the pitfalls of exploration and the stifling of mans adventurous spirit.


"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."

Hair terror

I've always been afraid of hairdressers. This somewhat rational fear can blamed on my mother who assured me at age seven she was just going to give my hair a wee trim. Scissors poised in hand I'll never forget that fateful snip snip snip. I got up and walked calmly to the bathroom mirror to inspect the minor alteration. What reflected back at me was terrifying beyond words. A shorter than short pixie boy cut. Hair poked out at alarming and terrifying angles. 

Obviously in shock I ran around the house crying hysterically and deliriously yelling 'How could you?!?!' for half an hour.

The next six months were scarring to say the least. One day swimming at our local pool two eight year old slappers came up to me and asked 'Why are you wearing girls togs?' I cowered mumbling that I was in fact a girl but this was lost, drowned out by their catty laughter.

I've asked my mother in retrospect why she made me look like a mutant boy in fluro prints and floral pastels and she simply shrugs her shoulders and says 'low maintenance'. I now have long hair. Any thing too short and I am seized with fear that I look in fact, male. I lopped off my hair a few years back trying a cute bob only to be greeted by my (now ex) boyfriend at our front door who told me solemnly 'I don't like it' and then turned and shut himself in the lounge.

With my tragic and sorrow filled hair history I am now faced with a daunting challenge. I need a trim. I live in Japan. Most Japanese hairdressers do not speak english. Therefore I am quaking in my boots. I am not willing to revisit my boyhood. Wish me luck.

In bloom

Fantastic photos from the In Bloom shoot from Test Magazine. Fucking amazing!

Till 6 in the morning

I was lucky enough to party with the awesome boys of Tiddabades this weekend as well as some amazing residents from Yoga, Tokyo. Three trips to the combini for alcohol and one b.b gun too many before it was 6am in the morning and I was taking a somewhat hazy train ride back Shibuya. It sure was nice to hear some New Zealand accents though!

From black to pastel

I was having a really bad day today. Things just weren't working out how I wanted them to and a frown was attached to my face all morning. It's such an awful feeling and I realised it was up to me to choose how long I was going to indulge in my bad mood. Sometimes it's easier to say angry. I tried to do things that make me feel better. 

I said sorry to someone I needed to. 

I went and saw Hoishi, my supermarket man who is 70 and high fives me on arrival and departure. 

I bought coloured pencils.

I ate shoe cream (it's like an eclair)

I looked at pictures that made me laugh.

I rode my bike.

I patted a cat.

I wrote a letter to a friend.

I put fresh flowers in my vase.

I bought a train ticket for Tokyo.

I took photos with a new roll of film.

I feel better now.