I’ve moved into Yale, more or less, and I’m sitting here typing from the fifth floor of a slightly decrepit graduate dorm as the wind blows through the dingy vertical shades of my window.  Ah, life as a graduate student.  Since I have not fixed a window screen up with duct tape yet, various things have been flying in.  A ladybug came in and landed on my hand yesterday evening–since I don’t like bugs, I was about to violently deal with it despite its cuteness, so I was happy when it flew away.

I’m not sure anymore if I’m an artist.  I don’t write; I don’t draw; and I don’t play the piano.  I drift through life pondering all that may be in the future.  I wake up, eat my meals then empty it out, maybe play a bit in-between, and go to bed before doing it all over again.  I walk through the streets and feel the sun on my skin, and there is nothing else.

Maybe I don’t know how to try to create anymore because I was never meant to do it.

What have I been doing?  I packed up and left Japan, mailing half a dozen boxes to the U.S. and paying a fine for excess weight with my baggage to Taipei.  I saw my parents and thought about how much they love me, ate a huge amount of food, took some pictures (eventually to be posted), and then left for the U.S. after three weeks.

In Boston, I woke early in the mornings to nibble on the dried mango and plums that I had brought from Taiwan.  I walked around Newbury St., amazed at seeing people of different shapes & sizes, especially the women with their bare arms, curves, and flip-flops.  I switched from my standard black high-heel sandals into purple flip-flops; either managed to finish only half of each meal or stuffed myself silly almost every time I went out (whoa for big American-size portions); watched ducks dip their heads into the water, their feathered rear ends bobbing in the air; and drank in all these memories………………………………

There are certain things that no one but you remembers about a place.

Three more weeks, then I arrived here.

No more moving…unless it’s only down the street (sigh, housing issues).  Time to settle down.  Buy pretty things to build a nest for myself.  Shake the dust off from my feet, shake off everything (but I wouldn’t want to even if I could, because I love), and look up, up, up…

More coherence sometime, probably not soon.

高速船から写真を撮って、この景色は絶対捕らえられないと思ってた。
ちょっと想像してみない？

青い海に囲まれて、果てしなく空間や距離
小島が一つ一つ視界に浮かび上がる

ふと彼女のことを思い出す
二年前に隣の部屋に住む
ある日、彼女が亡くなる

生死の境
わずかな距離を離されて
私と彼女の人生は、もう複雑に絡み合ったいる

彼女が死んでいる、私が生きている―
それは、なぜ
それは、なんて不思議なことと思える

息をのむほどの景観美
風が容赦なく顔にうちつける
ああ、今私がここにいる
生きている
なんて不思議なこと
生死の境

心のなかでつぶやく
「見て」「ああ、見える？」
こんな時に、私の目を通して彼女に驚くほど美しいものだけを見せてみたい
通じるかな、その気持ち
もうそんなに無邪気じゃない
でも、大切にする

ああ

Hmm.

Um, on a different note, I’m slightly disturbed by the fact that my bikini & I are NOT IDEAL right now.  I know that no one who sees me in it in Thailand (besides my best friend) is ever going to see me again, but I think it’s like karma, right?  I don’t want to spread a serious Lack of Hotness in the world!!  Well, too bad.  Oh, I am also going to wear this bikini at some pool in Tokyo where a friend will (hopefully) teach me how to swim in June.  And in July at the pool at my parents’ apt. complex.  But by then, I will be generating serious waves of Hotness, and all will be well.

I guess this post is saying I am happy to be around with enough free time to be thinking about this.

Things are like asldkfja;sdf right now, but not in a totally bad way at all.  In a crazy, sort of poetic way.

I’m going to THAILAND!!!!!!!!!  My best friend is gonna run around Tokyo with me!!!!!!!!!!!!  This summer is going to help me feel awesome and get on the way to becoming a totally awesome person!!

‘k, thanks, bye.

Flowers inside the entrance of Ueno Zoo - a long row of radiant, delicate cupped pastel on thin green stalks held by gusts of wind. Otherwise, I couldn’t find anything worthwhile - only a lot of tired-looking zoo animals behind bars and glass. And a snapshot of part of a Rodin sculpture outside Ueno’s National Museum of Western Art, where I went to see a “Venus” exhibit.

I saw this movie about Rachmaninoff (the English name is “Lilacs”). When I began to tear up at the opening chords of his Piano Concerto No. 2 at the beginning of the movie, I realized again how much I care. Piano was my first intimation of mortality - you can never turn back time to create the circumstances that might have made you better, that would have polished your negligible amount of potential (and thirst & desire) into some form of great and shining success. But I would rather live my failure with grace; I have moments that I would rather keep for myself. When many a teacher said, during one of my frequent moments of dissatisfaction, “But I like to hear you play.” My teacher sitting in silence before saying, “That was beautiful” - because I missed notes, but this piece is everything to me. A spare space in time - a hushed moment kept tight in my heart - when, for once, I was on a stage or in a practice room, and I played honestly because I forgot myself entirely, or you could say I remembered myself fully, without any hesitation or self-deprecation. The knowledge that someone has really heard. I want to leave these things with myself. I would rather forget all the ugly thoughts - that I have bad technique, that my playing is appallingly bad to many people - and instead learn to embrace this wonderful love story that I have had. I am always mocking myself with a relentless, cruelly acute inner critic; I have an extremely difficult time taking myself seriously. Is it peculiar that piano has been such a big part of my consciousness, my personal growth, when I’m not even a very good pianist? But I am good, in that I have always gotten something out of a piece that has mattered to me.

At Yale, I want to keep on playing and accept the place that piano has for me. I cannot compete with anyone else; I cannot try to fight against time. Sometimes I forget what I have learned, that people can leave this world all too quickly, and under these circumstances, you should really just do everything that matters to you. I think about what a pleasure it will be to play the piano again, to share pieces like small jewels with people I care about.

A poem first found by a dear friend.

My part-time job, while exciting for the first day or so, seems like it won’t be a big part of my summer, since I’ll probably only be needed for special events or to fill in occasionally.  And yes, my right foot is still slightly swollen and aching, and I was told to stay off it until it’s better.  I decided to take that advice since it was starting to worry me - it’s been hurting since mid-April - and I’m going to be running around a lot during the second half of May.  So mostly I’ve been lurking around the house feeling caged and restless.

I sleep on the upper bunk, with the bottom one for storage space.  When the train passes by my house, the bed shakes, and I turn over and pull my blanket tighter around myself.

Once this is over with, I want to start running in the mornings.  It’ll feel good to pull on a t-shirt and exercise shorts and get sweaty and tired - to feel like I’m doing something.  And I’m tired of being weak or sick.  Enough with the endless string of bad colds in February and March, the stupid foot that gave out on me in April.  Drawn away from everything, feeling tired, colorless, bloated from lack of movement.  It’s almost summer, and I want to walk through it being strong, lean, stripped of all that’s unhealthy.

Since moving here, I’ve had vivid dreams heavy with nostalgia thread their way through my nights.  People I haven’t seen in years appear, getting married, mocking me, inviting me over.  Past loves telling me new and interesting things…this is only in dreams.  I make plans to stay at friends’ dorm rooms at Wellesley only to wake up and realize that these girls are now miles and miles away from me, that time is almost two years in the past, and I will never exactly return there again.

I went over to Togoshi Koen the other day and took a few lush pictures to show you.  According to this page, Togoshi Koen was created based on the garden of a feudal lord from the Edo Period.  What it doesn’t mention is that there are gnats swarming everywhere in the air, and it’s very hard to stop for even a few seconds to take a picture without having them attack you.  But it’s very pretty, isn’t it?  My morning jog is going to pass through here!

Does anyone want to climb Mt. Fuji with me in early July?  It’s commonly enough done that it shouldn’t be that difficult even for someone like me who isn’t very athletic.  Maybe climb Mt. Fuji, then see Chagall at the Pola Museum and soak at an onsen in Hakone the next day.