Shiju no tenarai (taking up something new at 40)

I'm an awfully fickle person. I often take up something new -- like yoga, macrobiotics, classical music -- and devote my time and energy to learning it, but after a while I suddenly get tired of doing it and move on to the next interest. In the world of my ever-changing interests, few things can survive. That's what my past experiences tell me.

So I'm not at all confident that my latest interest, photography, can keep me interested for a long time. I hope it will, at least for some more time, since I've just signed up for a photography class. 

The photos are from a shooting tour we went on recently as part of the class. The place is Sakura-zaka, a nightlife district in Naha. The area is full of things to catch your attention, with its old rusting buildings, dark little alleys, and colorful signs of bars with funny names on them. It is uniquely photogenic and I was really like a kid in a candy store. 

But as I found out later, my photos of this very unique and interesting place are neither unique nor interesting. 

I don't know how I could have made them unique and interesting. I have absolutely no idea. But I know that it must be really hard and take a lot of learning, experience and talent to do that. A friend of mine who is a professional photographer has told me that taking good photos is as difficult as painting good pictures but most people don't understand that and value photos unfairly lower. After my disappointing first shooting tour, I totally agree with him.

When I become an eccentric person

I don't consider myself to be any more eccentric than other people. I think I am a quite normal person. There are, however, times when I cannot help behaving weirdly. It is when I am at art exhibitions. Good exhibitions, to be more precise.

When I find something I really like at exhibitions, I start acting weirdly, according to my husband. I roam around galleries, sometimes for hours, with strange sparkles in my eyes. I stand still for an unusually long time in front of my favorite works, often without noticing I am in the way of other people who are interested in the works.

Today was the day I had to become a weird person. There was an exhibition at a local cafe, by Ryo Kodomari, a young potter in his 30s who is one of Okinawa's emerging artists.

The exhibition was fun and inspiring. His works were, so to speak, abstract paintings in clay. Enjoying Mr. Kodomari's works, I felt that there is a new wave of art in the making in Okinawa. And I somehow felt that the wave may be powerful and far-reaching enough to make artists in the mainland Japan, who regard themselves as standard-bearers of Japanese art, pay more attention to what contemporary artists of Okinawa can offer. It may be just my wishful thinking, but it may not.

Coolest latchkey in the world

Have you ever seen anything like this? This is a latchkey for a door of our "kominkan" community center that is a half-a-century old. The design is really cool and amazing. It even looks like a piece of art. Don't you agree?

After rain

A festive day

On the day of the harvest moon, which fell upon last Sunday this year, our town had two festivals to celebrate good harvests and pray for another bumper year. One was a tug-of-war that is held every six years in Toguchi, the central district of our town. And the other was a "honen-sai" harvest festival in Bise, an area known for its traditional streetscape. 

As a curtain raiser for the "o-tsunahiki" tug-of-war, a "michijune" dancing parade by Toguchi residents marched down the main street, amusing hundreds of spectators with adorable dances by children, elegant folk dances by colorfully-dressed women, and comic performances by men in weird costumes. 

The festival came to a climax with the tug-of-war which was fought between the east and west teams. A few minutes of heated battle ended in the victory of the west team, which locals believe to be a sign of a bountiful catch in the next fishing season. 

As the sun went down, we and many other town people moved north in droves for the honen festival in Bise. A staggering number of people came out to see it, packing a small square in front of an "ashagi" shrine, despite a threat of rain due to an approaching typhoon. All of the more than dozen performances, ranging from "Ryukyu" dances to "bo-jutsu" stick fighting to a "Kumi-odori" musical drama, were entirely by locals, most of whom were non-professionals and had been practicing for weeks for the big day. They were rewarded for their hard work. Shortly after a sudden rain shower which drove the crowd to temporarily take shelter under tents and trees, the moon emerged, a little hesitantly, from behind the dark, thick clouds, lighting up the happy faces of the audience who were enjoying the performances of their children, grandchildren, friends and relatives under the beautiful mantle of autumnal night.

A man who delivers fun

Mr. M is a delivery man, but he's not your typical delivery man. He is more like a comedian or an entertainer pretending to be a delivery man. I suspect that working as a delivery man is merely a disguise for him to get to know people he can entertain. 

A couple days ago, he delivered a package and asked if we had "a few minutes to spare." Of course we did. Looking pleased, he went back to his little van and returned with a mysterious white plastic bag. He took out a sketchbook and two unused pencils from it and sharpened the pencils slowly. Tantalizingly slowly.

As our expectation was reaching its peak, he finally started drawing something, using his both hands simultaneously. The drawing turned out to be of a dragonfly which he saw that morning. He said the dragonfly was a messenger of an approaching autumn and added a "haiku" poem he'd just composed to the drawing. 

A few deliveries back, Mr. M performed an impromptu one-man show in our garden, mimicking chirpings of several different birds. It was such a brilliant performance that it's a real pity the audience was just two of us. 

Mr. M once said he was always trying to find new ways to entertain himself because he was single and had a lot of time to kill. When I heard it, the words "entertain himself" echoed in my mind. And I realized how poorly I've been entertaining myself all my life. I've always relied on such predictable and unimaginative ways as shopping, watching DVDs, or surfing the Net. 

Mr. M may not have what many of us have but it seems to me that he is enjoying his life more. I think it's because he knows how to play by himself. If my husband and I are left alone in a deserted island, we couldn't enjoy the life there, thinking only about how to get out. But I'm pretty sure Mr. M would be totally happy and I admire him for that.