I was thinking about what to write in today’s post, when I realized I was not going to write what I had planed to do.  I was going to go through my images and post up the 10 most important images for me over the past year.  I kind of visual journey thought the ups and downs of 2011.

We, especially in Japan, have been though so much.  Every disaster imaginable has happened to this country and we are still dealing with the after effects of the March 11 triple disasters.  We are still dealing with the daily stress of not knowing what the future holds for our communities.

I thought deeply on this matter.  I even had begun to map out which images I would use in the post.  I have decided to change my focus from the past to the future.  It is important to revaluate one’s life in order to create a better future.  Those that are in tune with their spirit take the time to review their actions, and take steps to redirect our lives to be on the path that we want to travel.  In some cases, the path that we need to travel on.

I have chosen on the end of the Gregorian calendar to look forward.  To put the past behind us, and to forward to the year to come.  To look upwards into the endless skies and see the possibilities for what the future can bring.  To forge ahead down the roads that we need to travel.  To find ourselves in the bluest blues of the universe.

As many revel in the end of the year, I choose to look froward to the next.  Where will my artistic explorations take me?  I do not know, but I am excited about the freedom that lies ahead.

2011 into 2012

The other day I made my way from the Tokyo side of the Kyoedogawa RIver to the Urayasu side to just wander around in the clear winter air.  I love wandering around the old part of the fisherman town of Urayasu.  The tight alleys and the corrugated metal homes that sit along the river that comes off the main river.

Urayasu for many years was a hub of clam harvesting, fishing, and seaweed gathering.  Urayasu was a town of fisherman.  They were utterly dependent on the sea to provide for them.  Those fisherman days are all but completely over.  There are a few families that make their living from the sea, but most now travel into Tokyo and have company jobs.

I am a bit saddened as Japan looses these pockets of old culture as the mad dash to modernize and compete on the world stage.  As I biked around the neighborhood, I was astonished to see the amount of rebuilding in the old neighborhood.  Everywhere I looked I saw houses being taken down, empty lots being prepped and building going up.  There was so much construction that was dismantling the tight community of Urayasu.

I came upon a large patch of land that had recently been bulldozed and graded relatively flat.  Buried though out the earth were thousands of shells. A reminder of the properties seaside past, or past profession.  They I spotted something unusual next to a cinderblock wall, I spied a Japanese stone lantern, and assorted rocks making up a small zen, meditative garden.  This little patch of tranquility had been sparred the bulldozer, and hopefully will be preserved for the next house that is to come.  It gives me some hope that all might not be lost in the old neighborhood of Urayasu.

This little kitty was out enjoying the clear winter sunlight the other day, just like me.  The kitten was peeking out at me through the parking lot’s garden.  His/her eyes met my lens, as I pressed the shutter button. I hope that one day he/she will find a home.  Someone out there will take care of this kitten.  However, for now he’ll just continue to take advantage of winter’s sunny skies.

The day was beautiful out.  The skies were so clear it felt as if I could see clear across the ocean all the way to San Francisco.  It is one of the amazing things about being in Tokyo in the winter time, is that the air becomes so clear that the skies are boundless.  On a day like today I had to just get out on my mountain bike and just pedal around to see what could be seen.  I needed to get out and breathe in the cool dry air, and fill my heart with better tomorrows.

Eventually I made it all the way to the edge of Tokyo bay.  The end of the road in Urayasu, and just gazed off into the curve of Chiba peninsula as it makes its way down to Tateyama.  I could even see bits of Kanegawa that borders on Tokyo, that is just how clear it was.

Now, if only I could make my mind as clear as the skies.  At times it seems like all the clouds flood my brain and heart.  I try hard to stay focused on what really matters in this crazy world.  There is so much nonsense we all have to go through that distracts us from what really matters.  It is times like this that I am so thankful to have family that I can reason with, and for the Creator to watch over us all.

I have faith that tomorrow will be better.  That tomorrow might be far off, but it might not.  I prepare for the worst, and pray for the best.  I know that the path I am on is the right one, and if it isn’t that I will be wise in my choices to keep on the path that I am suppose to be on.

Stare off into the boundless horizon.  Follow those curves.  Breathe deeply and let that brain fog clear away.

I was happy to spend some time with my close friends on Sunday.  We were riding into Tokyo with their young, almost 3 year old child Tobias, aka Toby.  He is full of energy as young ones go; however, he was out cold on the train ride into the city  He is usually on the prowl with his shark fin hat, but not this time.  So quiet, so peaceful as he slept, the world of Tokyo spun by station by station.

I too, try to see the world through the eyes of a child.  To see things fresh and for the first time, even if I have seen the same thing for the millionth time.  Be childlike, but not childish.  Be young without being naive. We must learn to be comfortable with our selves so that we to can sleep as quietly and soundly as Tobias.

Winter is here with a vengeance.  Even though as I type this blog, my window is slightly ajar to let in some fresh air and that amazing yellow light.  I know the light will not last to much longer as the days are short.  The cold air comes quickly and I will be bundled up and headed for my homemade kotatsu (heated table).

These weeds on the concrete embankment of a small river is Ichikawa caught my eye the other day.  Their roots had managed to edge themselves into the cracks in the cement and had been able to grow strong and powerful.  They were reaching for that winter sunlight that makes me marvel.  They are survivors.  They have managed to eek out an existence in the inhospitable of places.  Actually they aren’t really struggling, they are thriving in this urban environment.

To be a weed.  To grow strong in the sunshine and make its home where ever its seed shall land.

Shabbat is the time to rest and separate oneself from the worldly world and refocus our energies, thoughts, and hearts towards the Creator.  I like to begin my meditation by cooking the shabbat meal.  When I am working I do not have much time to labor in the kitchen; however, this Friday I and most of Japan had the day off for the emperor’s birthday.  I decided to cook up a feast for dinner.

My friend had brought in a spice box that his family had sent him from the Boston area.  It smelled so fresh, strongly scented with sage and oregano.  The product is called Bell’s Seasoning, and it came in a box that the design probably hasn’t changed for 60 years.  After smelling these herbs I had an urge to make stuffing from scratch.  This was one of the the components of my meal.  I also roasted up some chicken with a red wine and pomegranate reduction sauce, with some garlic potatoes and turnips.

I wanted to welcome the shabbat the best way I could by creating and beginning my meditations with the food to be eaten slowly and enjoyed with my family.

I have begun to become interested in the still life genre, mainly because of my friend E. John  Walford’s images.  His still-lifes has stirred in me a desire to return to s classic genre style as a further exploration on my photography.  This one is not still, it is FULL of life.

Shabbat Shalom

May you all have a peaceful and restful day.

On the pre winter solstice day I watched the sun slink slowly towards the horizon.  All day the sun refused to shine, but at the last hours of sunlight it made an appearance far off on the edge of the earth. I began to think about what a rough year this has been for myself, for Japan, and in fact for the entire world.  Japan has experienced every disaster imaginable:  earthquakes, tsunami, typhoon, mud slides, torrential rainfall, nuclear disaster, power shortages, and now there are record breaking snowfalls.  All in all a very rough year.  These thoughts were all going through my mind as my train was passing over the Kyo-Edogawa river looking out over Tokyo Bay.

This I know.  The sun was going down, on the last few days left of the year.  I have no idea what the future may hold.  I have no idea if things will get worse before they get better.  What I do know is that sometimes things must come to an end.  And by coming to an end and this can allow for something to take its place.

So, the sun sets.  The sun will rise again.  We will live in cold and darkness, but this is only temporary.

I try to keep these writings as positive as possible because to live negatively just induces more stress.  However, there are some issues that I need to address in this post.  I hope you will indulge me for a moment.  There is a madness to my method.  I promise.

These are some crazy times we are all living in.  Sometimes I feel like I have been hauled away in captivity to Babylon.  I am truly a stranger in a strange land.  I am surrounded by the ultra consumerism of Christmas in Japan.  It is so devoid of any real emotion that it makes me feel ill.  I have no problem with people wanting to celebrate a holiday, but here it makes absolutely no sense.  I ride the trains and women clutch bags of presents, with brightly colored packaging.  The shelves are lined with the Christmas boots that parents will give their children on Christmas day.  I am at a moment where I don’t think I can take it any longer.

I have tried to address the issue with fellow Japanese how strange it is to celebrate a holiday that you know just about nothing about.  I have compared it to how would the Japanese feel if Americans suddenly adopted the Obon holiday because it looked cool.  And most cannot make the connection that by doing so is ultimately strange.

Growing up Jewish in America was always strange around this time of year, but here in Japan it ups that emotional to a whole other level that can only be expressed in the images that I have selected to accompany today’s blog posting.  It is assumed by most I encounter that I am Christian, and that I celebrate Christmas.  I have to school people I come in contact with that NOT all Americans are Christians, and not all Americans celebrate Christmas (even if you might be Christian).  This is difficult for many to comprehend.

That is why today’s post is titled, Dreaming of Zion, While Exiled in Babylon.

I hope you forgive me for going off a little bit today, but I do feel so much better for doing so.

I do not mean to offend anyone by this, I am just expressing some bottled up emotions in a positive and constructive manner.  I levitate this post to all Jews, Christians, and Muslims trying to make sense of this time of year in Japan. Peace to all!

Dwelling 02 (Dreaming of Zion)

Dwelling 01 (Exiled in Babylon)

I know I have Miami blood.  I can get used to the cold weather here, even if that weather is never that cold, but I don’t really love the weather in the winter time.  I dress fro it.  Wrap my neck in a scarf, pull gloves over my fingers, and double up on socks.  It helps, but I still feel cold.

I spotted this little one the other day as I was walking through a quiet Chiba neighborhood.  Still amazed at how many flowers are actually in bloom, considering it is just about the end of December.  Here she was rolling its tint petals in on themselves trying to keep warm just like me.  Turning its head towards the sunshine to keep all of its petals warm, just as I love it as I ride the train and the sunlight flickers as we zoom past the concrete shapes of Tokyo.

Just being myself, trying to keep warm.  Bundle up everyone.

I love geometry.  Now you might think that to be a little crazy.  Even if you are thinking about the geometry that we all have to study in school, but honestly out of all the math that I studied in school geometry was the only one that made any sense to me.  My reasoning behind that is I am without any doubt am a visual person.  I think visually.  I approach the world and how I relate back to the world though how I visually experience the world.  Now, I would never really go back and study geometry again.  I’m pretty sure the boat has sailed on that part of my life, but the lines, tangents, and bisecting lines have become part of my visual vocabulary.

The cubists did it the best.  They oversimplified the world that they were apart of into line, shapes, and tone.  A world that is visually experienced through shapes.  I have learned to see the world very mush though these same lenses.  I cannot help but look out into Tokyo, where I live, and see the world sometimes reduced to nothing more than lines and cubes.  I, however, know in my heart that the world is far more complicated than that.  There are shapes that cannot so easy be reduced to just a square.  The natural world, even though, it is full of repeating fractal patterns they are never quite as straight as a line of hewn stone.

This is where my lens comes in to help me navigate my way through the visual world.  Trying to bridge the two ways to seeing the world together.  That world of the straight hard edge lines that follow the rules of geometry and composition.  Then there are the rulers of the plant and natural kingdom.  The ways in which a branch grows divides and multiplies as it reached out to the sun.  I am a part of both worlds.  My physical form comes from nature.  There are now straight lines to be found on my person.  Yet I love to see a rectangular door, meeting a window at just the right moment in space and forming can conforming to our geometric rules.

The door in todays group of images is a geometric homecoming.  There are no plants visible.  There is only the hint of the natural world by the shadows that are being cast on the image.  A piece of my inner mind has left its imprint on this image.

Welcome home.  Welcome to lucid communication with myself.

I am not sure why I used to thing the whole natural world dies off in winter time.  I guess it was because i assumed it just got to cold for flowers to bloom or for fruit to ripen on the its branches.  It is probably just because I didn’t take the time to pause and to really observe the natural world around me.

Living in the urban jungle of modern day Japan I loose myself in the concrete and steel of its man-made structures. All the twist and turns of the human created environment my eye had become trapped.  It wasn’t until experiencing the after effects of the March 11th disasters that my eye had refocused to see the natural world around me.  Even if that natural whorl is confined to tiny roadside gardens and terra-cotta pots, the natural world is right there in front of my lens, if I choose to look for it.

This brings me too the bounty being spotted in the cold winter air.  I have come across trees that are just bursting with winter citrus.  Yuzu trees, an asian citrus used in seasoning, are ripe and bright yellow among the home gardens out in the suburbs of Chiba Prefecture.  They are all plump and ready for the picking.

Open your heart and eyes to the changing seasons.  Enjoy the bounty that we are blessed with even during the chilly winter  month.  Peel open a nice juicy citrus and get some of that vital vitamins and minerals.

We humans like to build walls.  Walls to keep something out.  Walls to keep something in.  Walls to separate the known from the unknown.  Walls of all sizes shapes and materials.  We humans are wall builders.  Some of the walls we construct are purely mental.  We put that wall up in order to block off something that displeases us.  There is something to this wall building that I haven’t quite figured out yet.

However, it doesn’t take much to cause those walls to come tumbling down.  Whether it is the faith of the Israelites as they blew their shofars as they marched around the walled city of Jericho or the walls that have been constructed in our subconscious.  It takes only a few cracks in the wall to begin the process of bringing it crashing to the ground.  It might not happen quickly, it might take eons to deconstruct what we humans have constructed.  But given enough time, and any wall will crack crumble and fall to the earth.

It can start with a lowly weed atop a wall in Ichikawa, Japan.

Even though it is winter here in Tokyo, the autumn leaves are still coming. It seems that they arrived so late that the gingko leaves are carpeting the ground in their warm yellow hues.  The leaves are splattering over the land and bringing some much needed color to the often dreary grays of the urban life.

It is rather simple, isn’t it?

Leaves change and in do time they fall from their branches and drift down to the earth.  They will blow this way or that way for a while before some one comes along and sweeps them all into a plastic garbage bag.  But I have chosen to see them in their glory.  As they stick closely to the ground.  They cover, changes, and become part of my urban landscape, intermingled with those yellow hues that only the gingko tree can bring.

The lack of sleep is catching up with me.  The wandering back to the station seemed like a dream.  I was jut floating on snow the road, being pulled this way of that way by something that caught my eye.  I am not sure the path I took, but i do know that it was the right path for today because I came upon this tree that was shedding violet tears.

Those patches of colors fell from a small street side shrine in Ichikawa.  Violet teardrops on the cold cement side of the road.  There they were just lining up to catch my dream state that I was in.  I just lost myself in the violet bokeh softness as I wandered back to the station.

Shedding those violet tears again.  For a autumn that was too short?  For a winter that will be too long?  I do not know, but there are these purple drops to comfort me in my waking dream.