Kamo river is an important landmark in Kyoto. Every day I see this river that flows near my apartment. It's a 1000 m walk to the city center along it. My days pass by wondering while wandering and getting my life started here in my new hometown. It's been pretty complicated and hard these past days. At times it feels Japan doesn't want me here, like it rejects me. Me and Japan, oil and water.
The river changes daily. The water is clear and there are birds and even big fish. When the weather's fine, lots of people come to hang around the river banks. I would have never believed that Kyoto and Kamo river would become my daily surroundings. But still here I am, getting used to this.
The river has already acquired a symbolic meaning in my world. When I walk along this water, my mind flows easily and I could dictate my thoughts exactly. It's easy to hear the music, so to speak. And when I actually start telling you things by writing, my mind is closed down. There are so much more happening than I can tell you now. I can't take photos of these things of course, but I can't describe them either, because there is a curse in the way things work. Also in painting: now you see it, now you don't. Revelations come and go, the flow stops and it's just gone. It happens all the time to everybody, I think. Images, words, sounds, the forms we produce - they are just by-products of flashes in the dark. The flashing is there, that is important. That only.
But still it's the most frustrating thing - hands tied, tongue cut, spirit absent. And the flashing is there, grinning at our disabilities.
(Actually I'm planning on starting a writing project on something else than this blog in near future when the pressure is up enough. I don't know if anybody will ever see it but I feel like something more has to come out of this.)
Eagles flying by