tunnels of gates

Big Weekend

2009-07-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

What a weekend! Friday we ate dinner with Keisuke and his family and then took him to karaoke. It was a Micheal Jackson marathon. Caleb, George, Josh, Chris, and a bunch of other friends joined us for like four hours, and then Keisuke took Caleb, Chris and I to his favorite host bar.

A host bar in Japan is where hostesses go to relax after work. It's a fancy bar with young beautiful boy bartenders and young, done-up beautiful Japanese women. There is something for everyone. (this movie is recommended). Keisuke wanted to hear more Micheal Jackson songs, so Chris and I ended up singing We Are the World, and some strange version of Amazing Grace, which Keisuke thought was a Micheal Jackson song.

Luckily, one of the hosts was the guitarist from Kungfu.
Keisuke paid for everything, as usual. There is amazing generosity over here.

Saturday we went to Kashima (Deer Island) for a goodbye party and to camp with about 50 other English teachers and their friends. We had our skinny dipping and our bon fire. We had our moonlight love making and drunk arguing. We even had a sumo match, which really was an amazing thing. The beach was alive with tradition.

Deer Island takes about 20 minutes to walk all the way around and is covered in forest with dazzling deer. And we had it all to ourselves, all night.

In the morning those of us who slept woke up to beautiful Japanese families walking though our campsite, fresh off the ferry and ready to spend the day swimming or fishing at the beach. The island also had a rather impressive shrine,from which taiko drums announced the morning hours (just as the church bells do in the west).

We left the island in the late-afternoon, and headed to an onsen. I'm now at Calebs, celebrating his 25th birthday. I feel great. How do you feel?

Kyoto with Chris

2009-07-05T06:49:00.000-07:00

Chris and I went to Kyoto this weekend. It was such a nice trip because we decided to visit only four sacred places--Sanjusangendo, Kyomizu-dera, Fushimi-inari, and Nanzenji.
here are a few pictures from my phone

Nanzenji.
Fushimi-inari
Kyomizu-dera
Sanjusangendo
Kyoto Station

As always, Kyoto exposed to us her naked stone canals and soft moss gardens, only this time she was covered in a layer of Chris Romain. I got to see Kyoto through his eyes, and that was absolutely breathtaking.

Sanjusangendo floored us both (as it would anyone with an Asian art history book). Just one of those sculptures would be the highlight of any museum in the West, and Sanjusangendo has over 1000!, all lined up like a choir behind music deities playing drums, biwas, and flutes. This is still by far my favorite temple in Kyoto.

We then walked to Kyomizu-dera, which, despite being the second most popular temple in Kyoto, was nearly empty! Our cab driver said there`s a 90% decrease of tourists this year due to the pig-flu scare. Lucky us.

Fushimi-inari in the evening was extraordinary. Spiders built webs around the lights, gnats ate rotting gates, cats played in the shadows, distant claps and shrine rattles shattered space, and we saw a couple with their son searching for insects in the black-green forest. Their flashlights reminded me of frogging with my dad.

After Fushimi-inari shrine we ate ramen, drank sake, and then followed some friends from the hostel to Sam and Dave, a huge, hopping dance-club with two floors each playing different kinds of music. I almost cried when the 80's DJ played classic MJ.
The next morning we went to Nanzenji (chosen because it was featured in Lost in Translation).

Holy Christ, Nanzenji was God-incarnate (but what isn`t, right?). I wasn't expecting such a tremendous Gate! Japan is full of gates, portals into buddha-fields. And the Zen gardens there pushed us into ineffable intimacy with our infinite selves.

one sunbathing snake
listens to one chanting monk
Nanzen-in

Chris Romain

2009-06-28T21:41:00.000-07:00

Here he is walking through the Zen Monastery.

Sitting next to that tree I like to paint.

At the Shinkansen.

First place Chris wanted to visit was Koyasan, where Kukai is buried.

"Please take me to that forest."

Two of my monk friends, Yuma and Maiko, met us in the forest and taught us some secret Shingon mudras.

The Yanagi's took us out for Korean food.

Afterwards we relaxed at my place and listened to Masaki play the guitar.

Here is Chris at one of my schools. I'm not supposed to post pictures of the kids, but you cant really see their faces here, so I think it will be ok.

They LOVE him.

Tasuku took us into the forest near his house. We played in the creek and hiked up a hill to look at Niihama.

Tasuku. (enlarge this picture and see how absolutely beautiful this boy is.) He shares my my love for India and secret forts.

A bunch of us went to see the holy tree by Seki-river.

Chris pointed out an old wasp nest.

Sara and Josh

After the tree we went swimming in the river.

Trish and her sister playing on the rocks. They both fell in.

Emily in her element.

That night the Yanagi's invited us to Grandmother's house for a feast, and it was an excuse for Trisha's 17 year-old sister to meet 18 year-old Masaki. We took prom-pictures of the couple. They were glowing, and beautifully embarrassed.

In the elivator at my place. That's Hideyuki in the bottom right. He has become a very good friend of mine. That's also him under the gate to Matsuyama Shrine.

pics from my iphone

2009-06-10T05:02:00.000-07:00

2009-06-06T03:59:00.000-07:00

George caught a Tai, one of only 40 that we put into the bay. A young, drunk chef in the camp next to ours cut it up for us. It was delicious. George then ate the shirako, "the best part."

Tateboshiami Festival in Saijo. Fish are dumped into the netted off bay and then the town runs in to catch them with nets. Afterwards, it's grilled fish and sashimi all afternoon on the beach.

At the wedding.
The traditional, Shinto wedding began and ended with big, loud taiko drums. What an experience!

My friend Go took me to meet his calligraphy teacher today. As I received instruction a constant flow of students came and left the little room. I was immediately reminded of my watercolor teacher growing up. Go's teacher told me that I had to use my right hand for calligraphy, and at first I was resistant (I'm left handed), but I tried it out and boy was it exciting! I felt liberated from my left hand, liberated into the shape and flow of the kanji. Here I am writing the character 夢　which means "dream." both the noun and the verb. It's kind of an awkward character, isn't it? dream. It's a little lopsided, and yet it stays balanced, just like the other kinds of dream.

Shirako

2009-05-27T04:38:00.000-07:00

I just saw the academy award winner Okuribito, ("Departures" is the English title, although Okuribito literally means "Sender"). I cried my eyes out.

Please see it. It’s steeped with Japanese culture, including gnarly kinds of food set in a morbid, yet beautiful, wabi-sabi context.

For example, there is a scene (featured above) where the master invites the young apprentice up to his home and together they eat grilled shirako. Shirako,白子、 “white children,” is milt, or fish testicles filled with semen. You can find them at any sushi restauarnt or izakaya.

At the wedding party last weekend I was asked what Japanese foods I havn’t tried yet. I said shirako and this one girl sitting next to me asked why? What is it? Many Japanese people don't actually know, in the same way many westerners don't know what’s in hotdogs, but eat them anyway. I told her it was fish testicles and she laughed and said, “No it’s not! No way.” With the help of the bar tender and another girl next to me we softly broke the news to her. She was shocked.

Work In Progress

2009-05-15T01:17:00.000-07:00

Here are a few paintings in my new series. They're not finished, but you get the idea.

Assam again

2009-05-09T03:29:00.000-07:00

Amazing Beautiful Creatures Dancing Excites the Forest Glade, In my Heart how I do Jump like the Kudo Listening to the Music, so Nice the Organ Plays, Quietly Rests the Sleepy Tiger Under the Vine tree at the Water's side, and X marks the place 'neath the Yellow moon where the Zulu chief and I did hide.

Bobby McFerrin tells his students that the most important thing about improvisation is motion--just keep going. Start and then keep moving. That’s all.

And that means that anyone can do it. You don't need any theoretical knowledge. Babies sing improve all the time.

And entire dreams and universes are born and go and that’s just what they do.

The weather today was so fucking nice. I woke up to a warm, windy bedroom, next to two absolutely beautiful friends who slept over, and told myself that today I would paint, draw, and do the dishes. Instead I played with a 4 year old all afternoon, and then took my computer to Seattle’s Best to watch Bobby Mcferrin sing polyphonic with people blissed out of their minds on youtube.

As many of you know, I’m a singer. Been singing and dancing alone in my bedroom every since I was little--got the home videos to prove it. Thanks dad. It's one of my “gayest” sides: singing and dancing and painting. And I’m not unique in this AT ALL. Joyfully singing is universal, baby. When we sing and dance we get to express something, which is so satisfying for some reason, and it creates a kind explosion of bliss energy in our bodies. Don't even get me started about harmony and collaboration and the nature of the We....this PLAY, this Lila, this Creativity and Music and mixing of spontaneous improve is holy, holy, holy.

What’s really fun is to practice Mozart’s ABC song with the 13 year olds at 8:00 in the morning. And sing it two times. First time you add a little, really simple harmony. Then the second time ask the kids who know any harmony to sing it on top. Some of these kids have been playing piano since they were in the womb, so trust me, they know a harmony, and are probably a little excited to get to try one out. Breaking away from unison is so exciting!

Also, and this is very important. In order to copy my enlightened math teacher in high school (who made us rap the quadratic formula every morning) tell the kids to sing loud enough so that their friends all over the school can hear them. It’s fun. And holy.

But seriously, Bobby Mcferrin is a super-professor. Imagine being a vocal student and having Bobby Mcferrin as you own, private teacher, who you can see whenever you want, and you can sing with whenever you want, and you can ask really difficult questions about the meaning of life and suffering and art. That it what it was like having Robert Brawley as my painting teacher, my master. The last two years of collage were, artistically, enough miraculously good karma to justify at least the next twenty rebirths to be in the hell realms. I am such a lucky asshole. How did this happen?

That is also when I got to receive the bodhisattva vow from the Dalai Lama at his monastary in India, and when I got to make new love with my best friends.

It’s my mom’s fault.

The sad part of this story is that my last meeting with Robert Brawley was canceled because he had to go to the hospital, and soon after that, he died. You may remember me crying in the rain. But also, one of the greatest days of my life was last year when I got to spend 6 hours with his wife, who then sold me the very first Robert Brawly painting I ever saw, the one with his self portrait right in the middle. That circular mirror. The symbolism of all this is very dreamy, yes?

Anyway, enough about me. Let’s talk about my new niece and nephew!!!!!!!!!!!! My oldest sister is now a mommy! It happened!!! And I am going to be the strangest, craziest, “gayest,” awesomest uncle in the world, I promise. When David and Margot turn 18, I'm taking them to Assam!

Lightning River

2009-05-07T00:20:00.000-07:00

Last dinner. It was like a dream.

We hiked up a mountain to the Tengu Penis Shrine. Japan.

Shinboku in Nikko.

We met Kei and Yasuchika outside a hookah bar in Tokyo.
Yoshi took us to see Taro Okamoto's mural "Myth of Tomorrow" installed at Shibuya station. This was a huge highlight of my trip.

Yoshi

Satoru with Misa and her beautifully androgynous friends in front of the entrance to Meiji Jingu shrine.

Nikko. This World Heritage site (because the woodwork and paintwork is un-fucking-believable) was packed with people (and thus, packed with angels). ridiculous. Golden Week is like that.
Amazing woodwork, with shide hanging from a doorway. I am growing very fond of these symbols. and can you see the tiny shrine within of the big one? "It's shrines all the way down."
The circular mirror on the alter at Tengu Shrine. Man I love the symbolism in Japanese Shinto shrines. You climb up a mountain or a thousand stairs to finally reach the shrine at the top. You peer inside the sacred room and see sitting on the alter a mirror. Which is to say, you see yourself. Ah. But you also can't really see yourself because it's dark and the mirror is dirty, so you see a circular disc representing a mirror. Are you offering God a mirror? "Here you are, God. Look at yourself!" Is it the mirror Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, used to look at herself in the Shinto story? Is the circular mirror a symbol for the sun goddess herself? Altars are not just where offerings are made; they are also sometimes where the symbolic God sits, like in Christianity and Buddhism. By putting a mirror on the altar in that context, it is pointing yet again to the God-presence Within, looking out through your very own eyes. Or at least the mirror is pointing to one important source of your world...You. Needless to say, circular mirrors contain many meanings and symbolic powers, and discovering one in a secret room on top of a holy mountain can rapidly unravel higher and deeper levels of mind, meaning, and symbolism, making the mirror a great object to have on the alter! (And it's also a core symbol used in the Tibetan Dzogchen tradition (of which Dream Yoga is a part). In Buddhism, circular mirrors may be warn around the neck as well, so that when another person looks at your heart they see their own.

(Furthermore, the mirror-mind is also an analogy (along with the crystal ball) for how the nature of mind is always looking me right in the face but is missed. I miss it by focusing on the objects arising within it. How often are you conscious of the surface of the mirror--that unchanging reflecting pool of clear silver light allowing the objects to be seen in the first place? When you look the mirror, how often are you aware of the mirror surface, really? And why would you be? The amazing, unending diversity of forms arising and passing within the mirror-mind is so hypnotizing, so breathtaking, and rightly so...it's a miracle anything is happening at all.

Nikko.
Meiji Jingu. This is a very important shine right next to Yoyogi park. We were lucky enough to get to see Kyogen and Noh theater there for free. People took pictures even though they were asked nicely not to. (Not me, though. I took these before the performance started.) During the Noh, which is a very intense kind of theater, a happy, beautiful wedding party walked by, attracting everyone's attention. It was a bit KY, but also a profound juxtaposition.

.

Satoru Kikuchi I got David Titterington. He is sleeping in my room!!!!

Satoru Kikuchi David Titterington is on the way to his home. I miss him already! And I had to catch up Emily in Shinagawa station

Golden week, golden eyes, golden sunshine streaming in through the Shiokaze "salt wind" train windows and soul windows, golden pink sunlight making the blue silver mountains purple for my way back from Ibaraki Sunday evening. I clutched my iphone and sunk deep into my chair of missingness, with dazzlingly beautiful Japanese people sleeping all around me.

Sad sad sad is leaving a place so full of love and light and pineapples!!!! Satoru must have remembered what my favorite foods are from when he was in America, and told his family because I had pineapple everyday and spinach salad... and Satoru has 3 cute, big, funny dogs, and an awesome, beautiful sister, a hilarious, handsome older brother, and of course two glowing parents with a lightning river, belligerently blissed-out grandmother living next door. His parents reminded me of so many amazing parents I know, but they were most like the Johnsons, if you can imagine. Those of you who met Satoru might like to imagine what his family must have been like, and his best friend Yoshi...a lot like Eli. Yoshi and I drummed together for an hour under the hot sun at Yoyogi park, and were both happily sunburned for days afterward. hippies. I thank their my type.

But Satoru is not a hippy. He is not anything. His name means "Enlightenment Itself." Traditionally we could start there for some sort of interpretation. Whatever he is, Satoru is my teacher in Happiness, Playfulness, and Truthfulness. He told me one night that his religion is Honesty, and I believe him.

Margot and David

2009-04-28T06:29:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the typos. I'm updating using my iPhone.
The word for poop in Japanese is "unko" which sounds just like "uncle," so the kids laugh when I tell them the news.

I am now a poop!!!

Usually I feel like the only one left out of family events, but this most important one met my other sisters through the telephone as well. It was a mutual miss, and we bonded deeply in the simple fact that we were both missing out--a strange way to bond, isn't it? But is was meaningful on my end, that's for sure.

But actually, where we lack the physical experience and memory of “being there,” with the family, we had a very deep and powerful internal experience of tears and emotions and thoughts, one that was maybe freer than the others. We got to feel everything in our own way alone and not performing socially at all. Maybe that's a silly idea.

But oh man, when I called Martha to get an update she was bawling hysterically. Prepanic began to tornado my mind, my heart began to race, and then she managed to spit out, “I’m crying because I’m so happy!” I looked up at the sky. “It’s a boy and a girl!”

"Yes! Yay! You Knew It!" Bubba called Martha from the hospital room, Martha told me, and then I updated my status on facebook, which my family and friends were monitoring. In this way, people all over the country knew about the news before the people in the waiting room did!

I my mind I can see my dad's beaming face, and I can hear my mom’s total tears, and I can hear my aunts' and uncles' voices, and see their beautiful faces, and god I wanted to be there! Damn Japan. But first, of course, I was ecstatic. cloud nine. After I hung up the phone with Martha I suddenly had a desire to work out, so I did push-ups (probably to repress the scream of JOY that wanted to release itself from my body. Even alone in Japan, no screaming aloud. Sudden screaming is only aloud where nobody can hear you and worry about you.)

Yes! Yay! Everything has changed! New responsibilities, new projects to complete. Almost all my family members have said to me,“Now you have an even better reason to come back home!” It goes without saying, the fist grandchild (初孫)"hatsumago", is a big deal, but those two little angels are not the only reason I want to come home. I miss everything.

I wanted to be there so bad this morning!!!! I wonder if my cousin Liz knew that when she emailed and invited me to meditate with her during the birth. I really appreciated that. It hit me deep, since meditating together with another person is a very real way to reside in that place where you both do meet, that spaceless center deep in the heart. Thanks to her, we were both (t)here, in spaceless, timeless spirit. That was awesome.

So yeah, I had an interesting unclem "poop" experience. I can't wait to hear about everyone else's!!!

Sunday

2009-04-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

Hideyuki and Jack.

and Bri

Look at the order! those spores are so nicely lined up....can you see them under the leaves?

That's Bri way back there. this tree is bigger than it looks.
I like this picture a lot. blow it up and look at that moss.

Hideyuki took Bri, Jack, and me to the holy tree today. You all might be getting sick of this thing, but I'm sure not! And look at these beautiful people who talked to me today!

Underpaintings

2009-04-22T04:01:00.000-07:00

Here is the second layer of a new little painting.

And for those of you interested, here are examples of my underpaintings.

This first layer is done very fast: It's unfocused, gestural....a quick sketch to suggest color fields and space--an atmosphere to resonate behind the forms of the particular scene; the chaos behind the content, the underpainting is a secret room that the eyes do not detect but the mind feels and holds lightly as an energetic field and inner structure.

And since oil paint is slightly transparent, the underpainting isn’t completely covered up by the painting.

"Out of chaos comes order."

another visit to the shinboku 神木　"god tree"

2009-04-19T20:36:00.000-07:00

The weather yesterday was heaven, so Daisuke and I visited the shinboku and then played in the crystal river.

Hanami 花見　flower viewing

2009-04-05T06:45:00.001-07:00

Ty, Tricia, and Emily

Yesterday it rained, but that doesn't stop Hanami! I went to a party under the bridge new my house.

Crystal Clear

2009-03-29T20:25:00.000-07:00

So Mom, I've finally started that series of 16 small dream/nature studies, of which this is the first. Not quite finished yet. Can you see what it is?

Looking out the city hall widow with my boss--a short, chubby, balding Japanese man with glasses, who looks just like Sogyal Rinpoche,
we conversed in English:

“Today we have a very clear view of Mt. Ishizuchi,” he said.
“Yes, it’s crystal clear.”
“Crystal clear.”
“I love that English word.”
“Crystal clear. Like your paintings.”
“Oh you are so nice.”
“But your paintings are also wet, and breathing, and contain the flow of time. They are alive. Have you been to the exhibit in Matsuyama yet?”
“No. not yet. Whose work?”
“Jimmy Onishi. His paintings are the opposite of yours. They are extremely primitive, loud, bright colors, and have a powerful impact. Yours make us silent.”
“Some people say my paintings make a sound,”
“That means they are alive. Your paintings have an identity. And yes, some of them hum.”
My boss
He then turned around and went back to his computer.

“Oh, and I just found out…I am staying here another year,” he added.

“Thank God! That’s good news for me!!! But you must be sad…”
“Yes, you know me well! It’s bittersweet. I really want to go back to school. But hey, let's have fun working this year!”

I’d love for him to be a teacher again. Teaching junior high school kids with this guy was incredible! We’d spend an entire class talking about our UFO and spiritual experiences in simple English... the kids loved it, shared their own UFO and ghost stories, and nailed “have you ever”.)

Then my teacher moved into city hall to become my boss and head advisor, sitting behind a computer, no kids around at all.

You see, every three or four years Japanese teachers (and city hall workers) move. Teachers move schools, some move cities, some move up and become vice principals or department officials at city hall. My boss is on for a fourth year now, thank god almighty. He’s an amazing boss. For example, when my sister Jane visited he gave me $100 and said,
“Go get drunk with your sister.” But he was also an amazing teacher.

This Japanese custom of changing people around in the spring is fruitful but also sad.

Finally, the end-of-the-year cherry blossoms arrive, and the collective interior question “who is going to move” is answered by the Superintendant, who chooses everyone’s fate.

His choices are not totally random, of course. For example, If a certain teacher isn’t working well at a school, or a certain school needs more masculine energy, teachers get moved.

“This Japanese custom keeps the teachers and schools fresh and balanced.”

‘Makes sense. Spring Cleaning. But having hundreds of people moving, some against their will, is very stressful for everyone.

Just in time for the all-day drinking and eating under cherry trees!
Hanayoridango!花より団子！ Dumplings more than flowers.
check out this great Jimmy Onishi collaboration!

Do you know where this is? Answer below.

Chiiori, that 300-year-old farmhouse in the mountains. Were you right?

peace fam,

2009-03-29T03:37:00.000-07:00

I went to Starbucks in Matsuyama with the hip-hop rapper Shing02, and there we discussed Japanese and American views towords public bathing, respecting personal space, homo/hetero sexuality, drug laws, and the overall moods of rebellion vs. conformity, individuality vs. membership, modern vs. traditional, disrespect vs. respect. America vs. Japan. Shingo is in a particularly integral position because he has lived in vanguard California for the past 15 years as a Japanese Artist. Our conversation was caffeinated and fantastic. Notes coming soon.

The other day, while eating lunch with some third graders, I was taking apart my empty milk carton in a way different than theirs, and they were saying, “no no, you can't do it that way! Do it this way!’ And I just kept doing it my way, and the kids at my table were laughing and saying “No, no, stop! Sensei, he's doing it wrong!” having a great time, and then, one of the other kids in the classroom who looked quite grumpy blurted out, “Moh, iiyo! Jibun no yarikata demo ii shi.” Which means: “Enough already! Doing things your own way is ok too.”

Deep wisdom entered into the classroom. I stopped unfolding my milk and asked him to repeat what he just said. The boy looked to his teacher confused, but she and I were on the same page. “What you just said about letting others do it their own way..that was wonderful. Say it again, please,” she said.
So he did, and the teacher and I both said to him: “Very good. Nice idea.”

I finally finished unfolding my milk and the little girl next to me held up her empty carton, pushed her thumbs into the center of the top and magically had the thing unfolded in two seconds.
“See? This way is faster.” She said.
“Wow! I see. Thank you for teaching me! You are also a very good teacher.”
Moral of the story: Respecting that there is a rainbow of ways to do things is good, but that doesn't mean that all ways are equally efficient.
All is light, and some lights are faster than others.

Who watches the watchmen?

2009-03-28T03:29:00.000-07:00

warning. this post includes Japanese and European master artists' hyperreal depictions of genitalia and erotic acts,
as well as the naked Dr. Manhattan.

hokusai
Courbet

Leonardo

"In art, immorality cannot exist. Art is always sacred" - August Rodin

I just saw Watchmen on the big screen. $18 and it was worth it, because I loved the comic and thought from beginning to end this thing was right on the money. I few changes, but necessary for the length.

My cousin, who I deeply respect, saw it, liked it, and told me that the media in America is jumping all over Dr. Manhatton's cg penis.
I checked it out, and sure enough, he was right. I guess critics are uncomfortable not addressing the fact that there is a naked man in the film, and that his penis is uncircumcised. and big. sounds like penis envy? And valid, as far as that goes.
Sometimes people want distraction from sexual energy?
My two cents--the explanation I sent to John was that you know the general rule is "repression leads to obsession, which leads to distraction," and in this case that’s distraction from the rest of the film, from other characters in a scene, or from any meaningful criticism.

But this rather predictable response from the media is not shallow. It's actually the tip of very deep iceberg, one that reaches down into the depths of our shared homophobia, erotiphobia, genitalphobia, and the power-politics that go with them. (John Ince is the man)

Our culture’s general repression of the penis is evident in the lack of them in movies, on alians, but also in the social norm to not look down in a group shower, or not compare size at the urinal. These last two norms are not evident in Japan though, (which is fine with me).

A 15-year-old student was standing next to me in the bathroom staring down at my peen and I said, “What are you doing?” He looked up and said “What, Is looking at other penises rude in America?”
“Yes, it is." I said, and laughed.

It shouldn't be, though. After all, we compare other body parts, other muscles, why not penises? It’s because we have eroticized the penis, and "sex is dirty and bad." (?) Therefore looking at one is considered “gay” or “peeping” or whatever. If it wasn't erotic, then it wouldn't be a big deal, seeing a naked blue man would be no big deal, and heterosexuals could give each other handjobs like they can give each other massage. This is not the case in our culture.

I went on to talk about genitalphobia, which I find fascinating, and ended by anticipating the Japanese people's reaction to Dr. Manhattan's penis. It will be very different, considering this culture's fame for having the most erotic comic books on earth. Compare erotic arts from Japan 1800 with erotic art from Europe 1800 and you will see a big difference. Here, adult men read "cartoon porn" at convenience stores, and general pornography is more acceptable, accessible, respectable, than in America. Japan has come to terms with its perversion, moved on, while America hasn't, and so we get caught in these discussions about whether genitals are fundamentally dirty or not....it's pathetic, and yet, it's there. When are we going to come to terms with our genitals and erotic arts? That's another great art history class: Human Genitals.

Japan is so interesting though, because, in order to keep genitals erotic, in (most) porn movies (real and cartooned) the genitals are fuzzed out. Paradoxical, and yet it makes sense. At first I though this was part of their own genitalphobia, but now I'm beginning to think it's just the opposite. Fuzzing out the genitals actually saves them from media mutilation. It keeps the real experience more exciting as well, I can imagine.

Snow-viewing doors

2009-03-25T22:58:00.000-07:00

I visited the Hirose house today. This is a historic mansion that is now a park and museum.
Hanami Flower Viewing has begun, and these trees are now at "sanbu zaki" or 30% bloom. As soon as they start blooming people begin picnicking beneath them...it's beautiful in Japan this time of year. See the picnickers?

This is a view from Hirose's "Smoke-viewing room." He liked to watch the ships out there in the Seto-naikai Sea. My apartment is down there by the sea. You can see it if you know where to look.

In the stunning old Japanese house were a few glass windows, extremely rare to have in Japan in those days, and these here acted as the home’s yukimishoji, 雪見障子、which means: snow-viewing sliding doors.

“The glass protects you from the cold wind! Isn’t that wonderful?” Our guide was as excited as we were.

The glass was old and warped, which made the scene beyond look dreamy and drawn.

It made me think about art. People often experience paintings like a window, an opening into a soul. The viewers get to peer into these inner worlds from the safety of the gallery wall, or a couch in a living room. Paintings are like yukimishoji. The cold, biting winds of those subjective worlds don't make it in. Warm and safe behind slightly warped glass, we unflinchingly face the world beyond. I think of the gifts of dark, erotic arts, fantastic realists, surrealists. confronting the demons, the nightmares.
Facing your fears is easy with practice. Thats what the picture cards are for.

I guess we could say that painters, like actors, like shamans, like butoh dancers, go to those dark, inner worlds, and come back build a yukimishoji, and take the others there, safely.

Japanese kids hate caterpillars.

2009-03-23T06:17:00.001-07:00

If they find one, they kill it. Why? It’s soft and icky like a worm, and the hairy ones can hurt your skin. I told them that American kids, if they are lucky enough to find one, might keep the caterpillar as a pet to see it grow into a beautiful butterfly.
“No way! A pet!??!”

They don't think butterflies are that cool either. Over here kids like beetles and dragonflies. Don’t even say the word centipede though; you will cause a tiny panic.

Remember how shocked I was when I found the kid in my building killing the caterpillar in the parking lot? Now I know.

I learned from Wikipedia that the American revolutionist Patrick Henry gave his fa mouse “Give me liberty or give me death” speech today, 1775.
Being an America, this speech holds a special place in my heart.

Give me liberty or give me death! However, to many people death is liberty--the great emancipation from the torture and agony inherent to living through a human body. God death is a release.

For others, Life is the great Liberation, by itself, as is, and if one were not manifesting that Liberty though every cell in their body, that would be death. Patrick Henry’s idea put “Liberty” up on a pedestal, called it Goodness, and saw it as a Perfection humanity deserved. It was our right, which is something inherent to living in a human body.

Fortunately, his speech was like Dr. Kings`s: prophetic. Unfortunately, that right to liberty quickly turned into a right to irresponsibility, a right to consume belligerently. We may have left witch burning, child sacrifice, and slavery behind, which is good, but we also left our feeling of duty to a higher order behind, which left us narcissistic a little bit too free. But actually, were we ever responsible consumers? Or did we just not have the means to consume so quickly as we do today? I`ve heard that if I had slaves providing me with my current lifestyle, I`d have about 55 men working for me. Who am I working for?
Progression and digression, spirals all the way down.

Kungfu

2009-03-22T03:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to a CD realease party for my friends' band Kungfu. Here is the promotional video. Please watch it and leave a nice comment on youtube.
A good punk band performed there too. This guy is wearing a pink leather jacket. (click to enlarge)

Pilgrim

2009-03-15T15:11:00.000-07:00

Walking home from school the other day I ran into a pilgrim doing the 88 temple pilgrimage around the island and ended up talking to him all night. What an inspiration!

proverbs and "common sense"

2009-03-06T00:03:00.000-08:00

"Patience is a virtue."
It's been 50 years and the Tibetans still don't have their country back.

"It's Easier Said Than Done."

Below is a picture of the mural I've been working on. I put a few more hours into it last night. Murals are hard work! I've never painted this big before! And the last time I drew trees on a wall I think I was five years old.

can you see the crows?

"practice makes perfect"

here is another watercolor

of that holy tree near my house

"A picture is worth a thousand words."
pro-verbs? By definition they are cliché, overused, and yet also brilliant truisms, profound wisdom teachings, no doubt. They point to truths, but what is most interesting is that each person interprets proverbs differently, with their own experiences to validate their own right interpretation.

Check out these English proverbs I've collected. Please pick one and tell us what you think it means, or how profound it is, (also, apply it to an everyday experience, or current event, or to the issues of same-sex marriage, if you can.)

Live and let live.

It takes one to know one.

Two heads are better than one.
Patience is a virtue.
Time will tell.
Better late than never.
All things in moderation.
The Devil is in the details.

Practice what you preach.

God helps those who help themselves.

Different strokes for different folks.

Never say never.

It's easier said than done.

Don't judge a book by its cover.

Beauty is in the eye (I) of the beholder.

Birds of a feather flock together.

Great minds think alike.

Strength in numbers.

Home is where the heart is.

If you want a friend, be a friend.

You reap what you sow.

You sow what you reap.

Stop beating the dead horse.

It's always darkest before dawn.

Kindness is contagious.

Practice makes perfect.

The Kingdom of Heaven is within.

The grass is always greener on the other side

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Silence is Golden.

Ladies First.

Better safe than sorry.

Where there's smoke, there's fire.

The magician never tells.

Here are some Japanese proverbs I like.

Ten People, Ten Colors.

Chase two rabbits, catch neither.

The base of the lighthouse is always the darkest.

Every meeting is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Poor person, no free time.

Fall seven times, rise eight times

Not-speaking is a flower.

pick one.

afterward: It is fascinating how the interior of the collective (our cultural dimension) is filled with proverbs, isn't it? And since we are all plugged into the collective, our own interior is also filled with the same proverbs! There are huge rivers down there! However, as I said before, the meanings of those common proverbs are uniquely one's own, which is what I'd like to demonstrate with your comments, if you please. What's also fascinating is that the global interior (spatially AND the one right inside of you) is likewise filled with common proverbs, in all sorts of different languages. I'm surprised at how many proverbs are cross cultural. However, I'm interested in how different our proverbs are, even though they are supposed to point to a "common sense." Proverbs can actually point to powerful differences between the way cultures think. We are one, we are many. Which brings me to the forigner living in another motherland insight...

"Common sense"

(or common consciousness) is often culturally relative, which is sometimes hard to swallow. For example, in Japan it is "common sense" to take off your shoes when entering a home. In America, just the opposite (although, you better wipe your feet!) But we can understand if they look at us like we're idiots, "without any common sense," for walking around in our homes with our shoes on! I probably looked at Satoru in a similar way when he tracked mud into the house. He didn't know to wipe his feet. The proverb "Always wipe your feet" was replaced with the Japanese, "Always take off your shoes," I bet.

Maybe that's not very interesting. But what is is that consciousness has many different types, many different flavors, rainbows within rainbows of shimmering diversity, and thank god. It's no wonder (and totally wonderful) Nobody Thinks Alike. I hope you comment with your proverb and provide another window into the unfolding depth of our collective interior. If you please.

powerlinerflyers from wes johnson on Vimeo.

random pictures from my iphone

2009-02-27T19:20:00.000-08:00

Bodhidharma, Daruma, Father of Zen.

"Who the hell are you?" the emporor asked Bodhidharma.

"I don't know," he replied, and walked away.

I visited Niihama's Zen Temple and Monastary after school yesterday. The misty air was wet, the moss fully open, the colors unreal. To my surprise the entrance gate had been completely rebuilt. The new wood smelled so strong, so fresh, and so clean. I was saddened, while also breathing deeply the smells and marveling at the creamy orange color.

It looked really great next to the light green.
Cemetery wall.

At the base of the forest leading up to the gate before the temple is that other tree I like to paint. Stunning, isn't she? The iphone captures the crazy light pretty well, dontcha think?
As you know Japanese students clean their own schools. Here are some freshman cleaning the bathroom. This always cracks me up.

.

This is the japanese food pyramid. I love how they include water ("or tea") as the center around which the entire pyramid turns.

Typical roadside grave. The water bottles are to keep cats away.
These are all the Kapibara I took to America for Christmas.
Party at Emily's.

My friend Misa Yanagi, left, sent my phone this picture of her and her sister. These girls are so cool.

Close up from the picture above. These are drawings of Niihama's beloved taikodai--the portable shrines carried during festival.
I visit the largest elementary school in my prefecture. The morning assembly today was a talent show! About 20 kids showed off their skills, from singing to cutting shapes out of apples to touching the tongue to the nose.
And this little boy just kanchoed me.

The day after rain

2009-02-21T02:06:00.000-08:00

My bus ride to school. Maybe it's because I'm from Kansas, but the mountains here, when the clouds get low...they blow me away.

As you know, I am a sucker for puddles...reflections in water. Gimme a flock of birds, a mountain, or a sky of clouds reflected upside-down in water and I'm a very happy camper. Today wet silver sky-licked surfaces play with my mind. I'm wearing a coat of mirrors. The graveyard is next to my school.

whisper of the heart

2009-02-17T06:27:00.001-08:00

Here is the newest layer to "Ground." I hope the couple who commissioned this painting like it. I sure do. Babies like bubbles.

And I started this other baby painting today. It's a little portrait of my friend Rin. Can you see the gorinto tombstone in the background? I also painted in a crow, shide, and space beings. The blues are much brighter than in this photograph.
The annual global party happend in niihama last sunday. It was amazing, having so much diversity in one afternoon; sharing, laughing, learning. Universal Heart was opened.
These are pics from the night before, Valentines Day at Bellinis.
enlarge this one and look at these amazing people!
Beautiful people showed up.

And these are from my birthday party. More beautiful people.

The World of GOLDEN EGGS

This is a really funny Japanese show that some of my students refer to sometimes. The comedians doing the voices are brilliant, and the animation is pretty clever.

One of my teachers asked me the difference between finally and at last. Hmm. That's a tough one.

I finally saw Whisper of the Heart.

I saw Whisper of the Heart at last.

Whisper of the Heart is another movie by master Miyazaki Hayao. My family told me to see is ages ago, but I never did. "It's my favorite Miyazaki film," my aunt said. Well, I (finally) saw it (at last). And yeah, the song "Country Roads" plays an interesting role throughout the entire film. It's fascinating. And not unexpectedly the art by Kazuo Oga is superb. I saw an exhibition of his paintings in Matuyama a few weeks ago with Takashi, who also told me this was his favorite Miyazaki film. I saw some of the backgrounds to this movie at the museum and the play between detail, realism, and abstraction made me think of Norman Rockwell. I want my friends and family to know that this is what Japan looks like. You don't all have to visit; just watch a Miyazaki film like this one.

This film is also fitting because it's about Junior High School students, who I'm surrounded by all day everyday. I think I cried.

The story is about two young artists, a writer and a violinist, who read the same books, and fall in love with each other. These are good clips. The last one is a great introduction to the art.