My Dad is using this new photo on his home page. It's him and the Blob (a.k.a. 'Bob' - our four-kilos-overweight pet demon dog). I think it's a fab photo... mainly because I took it!
Monday 29 January 2007
Cutest photo ever
My Dad is using this new photo on his home page. It's him and the Blob (a.k.a. 'Bob' - our four-kilos-overweight pet demon dog). I think it's a fab photo... mainly because I took it!
Man waving his wand about...
These past few days I have been suffering from delayed reaction homesickness. Being back in Japan these last two weeks, life has been too hectic to think about missing family and friends. But then it all went quiet and the low feelings hit.
By yesterday morning I was well over my life in Japan. The mood for the day was set to 'I've been here too long!'
On my weekend walk through Tokyo I came across a famous Shinto shrine I had been meaning to visit for ages. A wedding ceremony was taking place. The first time I stumbled across such an event I practically bounced around the place for joy and excitement. It was exotic and different and really underlined the amazing experience I was having living abroad.
But yesterday I was just like, 'What's the point in hanging around for the bride and groom's procession. I've seen it all before. Heck, I've even BEEN in of the ceremonies now.' In short, you could have coloured me underwhelmed.
I left the shrine and a few doors down I came across this little guy waving his wand about in public. And I kind of fell in love with Japan all over again. I mean living in a place that comes up with mechanical wand wavers for their construciton projects can't be all bad.
You see most roads in Japan are incredibly narrow. When these roads are under construction, the traffic would become chaotic if there weren't people employed to steer and control the vehicles (and pedestrians) around the blockage.
It must be the world's most boring job. It's a service populated by students and the retired (and probably comfy shoe wearers as you get a free smart blue uniform, reflective straps and wand! Just kidding).
What warmed my heart was that the road I took this picture on is one of the widest in the city. Its multiple lanes can accomodate large construction projects without difficulty. But I imagine Japanese people are more used to seeing these little guards than they are bollards and signs and so our mechanical friend above found his way into existence.
As technology improves and the need for manual labour diminshes, I wonder what other positions will soon be filled by wooden cut outs. Maybe the Dail (Irish Parliament) would be a good place to start.
By yesterday morning I was well over my life in Japan. The mood for the day was set to 'I've been here too long!'
On my weekend walk through Tokyo I came across a famous Shinto shrine I had been meaning to visit for ages. A wedding ceremony was taking place. The first time I stumbled across such an event I practically bounced around the place for joy and excitement. It was exotic and different and really underlined the amazing experience I was having living abroad.
But yesterday I was just like, 'What's the point in hanging around for the bride and groom's procession. I've seen it all before. Heck, I've even BEEN in of the ceremonies now.' In short, you could have coloured me underwhelmed.
I left the shrine and a few doors down I came across this little guy waving his wand about in public. And I kind of fell in love with Japan all over again. I mean living in a place that comes up with mechanical wand wavers for their construciton projects can't be all bad.
You see most roads in Japan are incredibly narrow. When these roads are under construction, the traffic would become chaotic if there weren't people employed to steer and control the vehicles (and pedestrians) around the blockage.
It must be the world's most boring job. It's a service populated by students and the retired (and probably comfy shoe wearers as you get a free smart blue uniform, reflective straps and wand! Just kidding).
What warmed my heart was that the road I took this picture on is one of the widest in the city. Its multiple lanes can accomodate large construction projects without difficulty. But I imagine Japanese people are more used to seeing these little guards than they are bollards and signs and so our mechanical friend above found his way into existence.
As technology improves and the need for manual labour diminshes, I wonder what other positions will soon be filled by wooden cut outs. Maybe the Dail (Irish Parliament) would be a good place to start.
A brush with some design
I was feeling down about having chosen a bloody difficult language as my potential new career. I guess negative thoughts about not passing my stupid finals have started circulating in my head.
So to cut off this dangerous spiral I went to the Idemitsu Art Gallery in Hibiya in central Tokyo. They're holding an exhibition at the moment called 'Calligraphy and Design.'
It was a fantastic collection and reinvigorated my passion for trying to study and make a life using Japanese in its endless beauty.
Calligraphy developed in China around 2000 BC with pictograms (an image representing something you can see in the real world), ideograms (an image representing an abstract idea), and characters which combine both pictogrammatic and ideogrammatic aspects.
These Chinese characters took off in Japan in the Heian Period more than one thousand years ago. Moreover the Japanese added their own native scripts, the two kana alphabets (which represent syllabic sounds) to their calligraphy. This gave an even wider scope fro expression and created what the exhibitors called 'a very Japanese aesthetic.'
To be honest, a lot of the works were way out of my league. You need to know ancient Japanese and understand how the writer deforms the standard character lines to create more artistic expression.
But one or two pieces really stood out and impressed me.
One was called 'ゆき' (Yuki - Snow) and was written / designed by the calligrapher Aoki Koryu. I've been searching madly on the net for a picture of it, but to no avail. If you can imagine a two metre squared white canvass on which the calligrapher has written a poem in black ink. The poem is by Kusano Shinpei and reads simply:
しんしんしん ゆき ふりつもる
(shinshinshin yuki furitsumoru - new new new snow falling and covering the ground).
The artist has arranged the characters in such a way that you can really see snow. You feel the silence. You imagine the snow sitting heavily on branches. You feel the cold clumps and soft flakes. It is pure and elegant and clean. As the organisers said - a very Japanese aesthetic.
The other piece I liked was called '草原' (Sogen - Meadow). It was the ancient character for grass repeated over and over again to look like a dot matrix picture of a meadow. You know like where somebody does a protrait of someone on their PC using only exes and question marks and the like. This was done in 1963 before any home printers so I guess the moral is that there's nothing new under the sun.
Anyway I felt really charged after the show and am ready to take on Japanese again full force. Pass or fail in February - who cares!
So to cut off this dangerous spiral I went to the Idemitsu Art Gallery in Hibiya in central Tokyo. They're holding an exhibition at the moment called 'Calligraphy and Design.'
It was a fantastic collection and reinvigorated my passion for trying to study and make a life using Japanese in its endless beauty.
Calligraphy developed in China around 2000 BC with pictograms (an image representing something you can see in the real world), ideograms (an image representing an abstract idea), and characters which combine both pictogrammatic and ideogrammatic aspects.
These Chinese characters took off in Japan in the Heian Period more than one thousand years ago. Moreover the Japanese added their own native scripts, the two kana alphabets (which represent syllabic sounds) to their calligraphy. This gave an even wider scope fro expression and created what the exhibitors called 'a very Japanese aesthetic.'
To be honest, a lot of the works were way out of my league. You need to know ancient Japanese and understand how the writer deforms the standard character lines to create more artistic expression.
But one or two pieces really stood out and impressed me.
One was called 'ゆき' (Yuki - Snow) and was written / designed by the calligrapher Aoki Koryu. I've been searching madly on the net for a picture of it, but to no avail. If you can imagine a two metre squared white canvass on which the calligrapher has written a poem in black ink. The poem is by Kusano Shinpei and reads simply:
しんしんしん ゆき ふりつもる
(shinshinshin yuki furitsumoru - new new new snow falling and covering the ground).
The artist has arranged the characters in such a way that you can really see snow. You feel the silence. You imagine the snow sitting heavily on branches. You feel the cold clumps and soft flakes. It is pure and elegant and clean. As the organisers said - a very Japanese aesthetic.
The other piece I liked was called '草原' (Sogen - Meadow). It was the ancient character for grass repeated over and over again to look like a dot matrix picture of a meadow. You know like where somebody does a protrait of someone on their PC using only exes and question marks and the like. This was done in 1963 before any home printers so I guess the moral is that there's nothing new under the sun.
Anyway I felt really charged after the show and am ready to take on Japanese again full force. Pass or fail in February - who cares!
Monday 22 January 2007
Attack of the Killer Tomatoes
Yikes! It's been almost two months since my last post. That's not good. I got preoccupied with living a real life and forgot my cyber existence. I'm back to humdrum lonely days now, so it's time to dust off the blog cap.
I originally intended to try and catch you up on all I've been doing. And there's been a lot: my brother's visit with highlights like wrestling and rollercoasters, a tonne of shopping and even a calligraphy lesson. Moreover I have all the fun and frolics of being home for Christmas to talk about. Oh and I also mustn't forget to wax a bit lyrical about Dutch urinals.
But that's quite a lot to prepare, so for now I'm just going to tell you what I did today.
I went to Otemachi in the centre of Tokyo to a massive skyscraper. One of the companies in this building has converted their basement space into a hydroponic farm. There are six rooms growing rice, herbs, flowers and vegetables under various light and water conditions, all in an enlosed space. There's also a restaurant where you can taste the fruits of their labour.
It's fascinating. I learned a lot about the different types of produce and how various colorus and types of light cause them to grow differently.
The concept is not only educational. They wanted to provide a place for stressed Tokyoites (and there are many - another suicide on the line on my way home!) to get a little closer to nature, see a farmer's work up close and personal, and have a chance to suck up a few negative ions during the day.
My favourite room was definitely the herb room. It was like a free aromatherapy session. Fifty varities of herb gave my nose a ticket out of the concrete jungle.
But second place would have to go to the tomato room. The reflecitve walls made me feel like I was in the Mir Space Station or something.
I had a free sample of their salad in the restaurant. It was really good. But I'm not sure if that was because of the qulaity of the lettuce or because it was free. I'm so stingy.
If you want to see my photos, go to the 'Hydropnics' album at the corner of the main page. I recommend you take a look. It's quite space-age and stylish in a typically Tokyo fashion.
I originally intended to try and catch you up on all I've been doing. And there's been a lot: my brother's visit with highlights like wrestling and rollercoasters, a tonne of shopping and even a calligraphy lesson. Moreover I have all the fun and frolics of being home for Christmas to talk about. Oh and I also mustn't forget to wax a bit lyrical about Dutch urinals.
But that's quite a lot to prepare, so for now I'm just going to tell you what I did today.
I went to Otemachi in the centre of Tokyo to a massive skyscraper. One of the companies in this building has converted their basement space into a hydroponic farm. There are six rooms growing rice, herbs, flowers and vegetables under various light and water conditions, all in an enlosed space. There's also a restaurant where you can taste the fruits of their labour.
It's fascinating. I learned a lot about the different types of produce and how various colorus and types of light cause them to grow differently.
The concept is not only educational. They wanted to provide a place for stressed Tokyoites (and there are many - another suicide on the line on my way home!) to get a little closer to nature, see a farmer's work up close and personal, and have a chance to suck up a few negative ions during the day.
My favourite room was definitely the herb room. It was like a free aromatherapy session. Fifty varities of herb gave my nose a ticket out of the concrete jungle.
But second place would have to go to the tomato room. The reflecitve walls made me feel like I was in the Mir Space Station or something.
I had a free sample of their salad in the restaurant. It was really good. But I'm not sure if that was because of the qulaity of the lettuce or because it was free. I'm so stingy.
If you want to see my photos, go to the 'Hydropnics' album at the corner of the main page. I recommend you take a look. It's quite space-age and stylish in a typically Tokyo fashion.
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