How did I make a post on architecture about poo and food poisoning?

I have been obsessed with the TV program Grand Designs of late. It is affecting the way I see everything. I now see parallels even between the buildings in the garden of the Imperial Palace and the Barcelona Pavilion designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. You see, I have learned from watching the show that this guy is famous for saying that God - and not the Devil - is in the details. His idea of modernism was that you pare everything down to quite simple, plain lines and structures, and then glory in the craft and quality of the detailing and finish. This is exactly what strikes me about the traditional architecture in the palace.

I mean, look at this simple wooden bridge.


And then see the beauty of the decorative metalwork.




And maybe it's because the buildings are deceptively plain, that the roof dragons dive down at you through the pines or that the chrysanthemums - the Imperial family's insignia - shine on the slate eaves.












While on the subject of architecture, I think I have found the inspiration for the golden poo that I blogged about a few weeks ago. I mean look at this - the architect in Asakusa must surely have been echoing this famous 60s landmark.




L'il bro, do you recognize the building? Hint - think of tiny wrestlers flying through the air. That's right, it's the Nippon Budokan (日本武道館) where we went to see the wrestling when you were over.

I like to think that modern architects do make reference to older buildings in the same city. Of course, Kevin McCloud would talk of this as a common language of construction. And when you compare the old parts of Tokyo with the new parts, like this view taken from Ebisu,


you can see how important these repeated references become to giving some feeling of coherence to the place. Tokyo certainly doesn't have any very striking identity like other big cities like New York, Paris or Sydney. So maybe these golden poos are the glue that keeps an idea of Tokyo-ness together. Not sure the tourist board will be adopting my argument as an advertising campaign any time soon, though.

On to other business.

Let's have a blossom watch update. You can see that the plum blossoms are picking up the pace. This makes my heart sing as I am well ready to be done with winter.








As I've said many times before, following the progress of the flowering trees is serious business over here. I am certainly not the only one to be arranging my weekends around a trip to a park, a riverside or a mountain. However - while people taking photos of the blooms are a common sight, it's not that often that you see someone out sketching. I love how the woman's body has become one with the trunk of the tree. You'd almost miss her.


And the final item on the agenda this week - work! So for those of you keeping a tally of my ratio of tough weeks to easy ones, this was another toughie, I'm afraid.

In addition to it being busy, I managed to go and get myself food poisoned. This was definitely divine retribution. Only on Tuesday I was on the phone to my sister saying how I thought most cases of food poisoning are in peoples' minds and that our stomachs are much stronger than we think. And then THE VERY NEXT DAY, I ate a pasta salad for dinner and thought, 'hum, this mayonnaise tastes a bit cheesy - I wonder what they've put in here.' It didn't taste bad, but nor did it taste normal, and I shouldn't have persevered. Cut to a sleepless night of knives in the gut and wondering if I'd make it into work the next morning.

Now I take turning up for work very seriously. I haven't taken a sick day from work since 1999, and even at that I have only ever had one sick day in my entire career. I think this ethic probably arises from the guilt I feel at all the sickies I pulled in my academic life. In school, the slightest sniffle and I'd be at home under the covers. Moreover, I guess I have been influenced by the attitude in my adopted country to not shirking one's work responsibilities. For your reference, this classic Simpsons scene:

Homer has just ordered a 'Juice Loosener' and we see the machine getting packed in the factory in Osaka.


Worker A says, Please don't tell the supervisor I have the flu.'
Worker B answers laughing, 'I've been working with a shattered pelvis now for three weeks.'

And the thing to remember is that the joke is not a million miles from the truth. Remember I've chosen to make my career in a land that actually has a word for death from overwork （過労死 karoushi). I mean, you'd hope the notion wouldn't be so prevalent that it would need its own word. But there you go. I survived, I got my work done, and I was back in fighting form 24 hours later (vowing never to touch pasta salad again).