|Winter sun on a wooden corner above the trains,|
a break half way between Tokyo Station and Shinjuku
half way between me and the others.
naaahhhh...Whatever. Just another excuse to down a matcha latte.
First week end out. First day of February.
First steps in Tokyo again, I stumbled upon the same kaiten sushi I used to eat at every day. Somehow up there my brain took me where good cheap food was, though I couldn't tell you where it is to save my own life.
Amongst other things, this week end in tokyo was made of, in no particular order:
golden dry grass smelling like summer,
Hazuki-san, muse-mother-friend I cannot not record one way or another, Yuichi-san, a friendly face and voice amongst the masses of glass and metal of Shinjuku,
a saturday night screening of To Catch a Thief to give my poor feet a break
(-where's the screen please?
-On floor 11.
-I'm sorry? The cinema screen?
- Yes, on floor 11...?
welcome to vertical urbanism) ,
a wooden capsule bed in a hostel that was so cheap you feel the floor with your hips through your futon, walking with one shoe on and the other in my hand in the middle of the night searching the public bath,
buying cute stamps and ink and paper letter and drawing paper, drawing pens made in japan for something like 2 pounds each (sorry guys),
crossing my eyes in front of zoom mics in what you think is just a computer shop but happens to be 3 f*cking building with 7 floors of anything electronicamerapplestuff ever produced on planet earth the last 3 years (you HAVE to ask for your way out or you risk sleeping in there, there is so much stuff on so many floors even with a map and compas you would get lost, it's like diving, there's no more sky no more ground no direction nothing but electronic stuff, everywhere you look),
a botanical garden with warm moist air and kindness from two awesome people,
matcha dango watching passers by in a station, seeing in complete disbelief hundreds of people queuing for the store/mall/gigantic store/small city of shops on sunday morning, eating my own weight in onigiri,
spending a fortune on plasters for my feet (who the hell puts on new shoes to walk a city, man I can be dumb sometimes, damn), recording the sound of the underground a little, rethinking my photography practice camera wise, feeling the underground passing 9 floors underneath me while falling asleep and loving it each time.