Push rewind to come to a sunny backyard in Miami about three months ago.  I was standing in my brother and wife’s backyard when I spotted a scrawny looking tree that was covered with little fluffy puffs of white.  I was intrigued all of these puffs of white on the tree, and scattered about at its base.

I picked up one of the fluffs and pulled the strands apart to find dark black seeds.  Each puff held about 4-6 seeds.  I asked my brother what plant is this?  He answered that it was cotton.

I had never seen a cotton plant before.  It was amazing how the Creator provided the earth with a simple plant that we can then harvest and spin into thread.  I was astonished.  It really was looking at a tree covered in cotton balls.

A few days later I was out in his backyard again, and I collected some of the cotton and took about a dozen black seeds, wrapped them in a piece of paper and packed them away with all my goods to lug back to Tokyo.

When the weather started to warm a bit I placed about four of the seeds in a little black potting cup, and waited.  Nothing happened.  Two weeks pass by and still no growth in the pots.  I pretty much had given up, and decided to place a few more of the seeds in the cup.  The very next day, my wife tells me that one of the seeds from the previous batch had sprouted.  I was joyous and thanked the Creator for the little cotton seed that could.

In the late glow of the setting sun, we replanted this little 6 inch (15 cm)  seedling, into a proper sized pot.  I am thankful to have been able to bring a small piece of my brother’s family and transplant it to my family in the suburbs of Tokyo.

The rain came.  The rain left.  The cold returned, the wind stayed. The hum of the street lamp glowed in the darkness, as the skies above turned a darker shade of purple.

The neighborhood was quiet, my neighbors gathered around the kotatsu, and the youngest ones laid their heads on small pillows.  I made my way down the glistening streets, looking up at that purple tinged sky.

All just another autumn day in Kasai, my hood.

I don’t need a meteorologist to tell me that the rainy season has begun in Tokyo, for the hydrangeas have signaled with their luscious blossoms.  As Tokyo waited and waited for the meteorologists to officially declare the start of the rainy season, the hydrangeas know it in their genes that now is the time for them to dazzle.

The hydrangeas come in all shades from a true white to blues and aubergines.  I adore the way that the large blossoms explode with burst of color over a period of days.  After they are in full bloom, the blossoms do not depart from their parents.  They cling on and show themselves for weeks, if not months. Their hues even can vary on one plant depending on the acidity of the soil.  For me, personally, the hydrangeas are a highlight of the brief rainy season in Japan.

The skies may be full of endless grayness but the rich colors of the buds luminescence in the downpours.  The sopping petals reveal their inner velvet hues.  Hues that awaken soulful memories of a mater painter’s brush.

The rain doesn’t bother my spirit.  All the much needed rain invigorates a greener Tokyo even in the midst of the dull apartment buildings and cramped homes.  I am joyous to wander in the rain with my umbrella and just marvel at the queens of the monsoon. The only bloom once a year, and that happens to be during the June downpours.  It is just perfect to me.

Civilizations spring up along fertile rivers in the middle east and Africa.  The water was the fuel that gave the settles the needed life-force to survive without wandering.  The rivers would overflow their banks once a year and deposit their black gold.  The black gold would be rich with nutrients to maker their cereal crops grow.

As man’s dependence grow on the life giving waters so to did he attempt to regulate them.  To be able to guide where the rivers would overflow, or protect themselves from the ravages of the rivers after man began to live so closely to the edge.

Earthen works were constructed to keep the rising waters at bay.  They thought they had the technology to keep back the rhythmic cycles of nature.  For a time the works were successful, but eventually the levee would fall into disrepair and collapse.

Civilizations still build these levees.  In fact there is a huge earthen one within walking distance from my home.  Do I feel safe with them in place?  I feel only somewhat protected because I know no matter what man builds nature can always take them down with a blink of an eye.  The levees may be overrun in flash or they could crumple under the weight of debt.

Have no fear, it is not the levee that protects I, it is the love that does.  Let the blossoms bloom over the levees let their roots wiggle between the cracks in the cement and cover their surface with purple blossoms.  Have no fear.

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.

This little one, actually, very little one was dancing in color sound vibrations.  All around him the browns, yellows, and earthen reds abound.  This little one was just shinning.  The purple hairs on the small buds that are about to open, to the flaming violet reds that color its petals.

Living and loving the colors that never cease to surprise my soul.  In the midst of all these earthen tones, I stumble upon these colors that light up my soul.

Sit back and let the meditative vibrant colors of this little on wash over your soul.  Let them soothe your troubled spirits, and see the light at the end of that tunnel.

The heat is still on in my neighborhood.  The temperature hit 33 degrees (92) yesterday as the steamy summer has been continuing into fall.  I really don’t mean to complain, because before we know it the weather will be reversed.  We will be bundling up and mumbling to ourselves how cold it is.  So, for know I will embrace the warm weather.

On my walk back to the station, I took a long cut through the suburbs.  I do love to wander the backroads and see where people live.  It is thrilling to my lens to see how they care for the patches of land that make up their gardens.  The bright flowers are still contrasting against bitumen of the streets.  The heat rising of the streets was a constant reminder that the summer has yet to finish baking.

I have come across the Angel’s Trumpet flowers in my walks recently.  These long elegant flowers that have a reputation for causing visions if ingested.  It seems like these days that everywhere I turn I see these drooping yellowish orange flowers.  I wonder if anyone in Japan eats them and sees angels or demons.  It visual imprints that nature can be bountiful or, in this case, can cause hallucinations.

I need to get out more and see what there is to see in nature.  Even if that nature is confined to plastic garden pots.  Beauty is out there, somewhere.  All we have to do is to keep and open heart to see it.

Sometimes it is good to get lost with in the blurred colors of the natural world.  An escape, if only for a moment, from the hustle of my urban lifestyle.

Purple bubbles swirl in the lens.  They relieve my spirit and lift my head.

Purple

Bubble

Blossom

Flowers are an amazing gift of the Creator.  They come in all shapes, sizes, and hues.  I am always amazed at their diversity.  For me as an artist I can enjoy the flowers where ever they might pop up.  As I am walking around my neighborhood and I discover some beautiful flowers in terracotta pots in a tiny frontside garden.  Or I can be biking along and break upon seeing some lovely weeds that are in bloom in an abandoned distresses lot.  You see, the beauty is found everywhere.

Then there are the gardens.  Gardens are where man and the Creator come together in harmony.  Man takes what the Creator has given us in the beautiful diversity of flora and fauna and creates a hyper-real environment for humans to enjoy.  Man tenderly cares for the garden by watering, pruning and taking care of those plants that catch a cold.  The garden and grounds of Kawamura DIC Memorial Museum is one of those places.

The land has been catered to by the hands of human gardeners.  Some areas have been left in a rather raw state so that the visitor can appreciate what the area must have been like in the sticks of Chiba Prefecture 100 years ago.  Other areas have water gardens where lilies and lotuses thrive.

As we wandered around the gardens and grounds, I became attracted to the most minute of the flora in the park.  For all I know that may actually been unintentional weeds that had yet to be pulled by the gardeners hand.  But they are so beautiful, that I had to get down to the grounds level in order to fully appreciate them.  There tiny elephant shaped ears that were translucent in the noon day sun.  Or the spiked purple headed wonder that had sprung up on a corner of the path.  And finally to the wonderful white lilies that floated so effortlessly on the surface of the pond.

I am thankful for all the species of flowers in the world, in the same way that I a grateful for all the humans in the world.  Who would want to live in a world with only one kind of flower?  Therefore, we should celebrate our diversity.  See the beauty in what is different.  See humans as the beautiful creations as the the flowers in the garden.

And there it was.  A tree that was completely covered in this little white star, that had had their edges dipped in a light shade of lavender.  All blooming, or about to bloom.  Signaling to me the hot summer that is to come, and the micro universe that lies right in front of our senses.

Sometimes it is truly the simplest of things that change your mood.  On this particular day, the heat and humidity was high.  And generally my overall mood was one of frustration.  I come home, and check my Facebook and see my mate in Miami had posted up a Sekajipo and the Jungle track Hardtimes.  It just put things back into perspective.  Things are never as tough for me as they are for so many people out there.  I am thankful for the food I have, the family and friends that surround me.

It is time like this that I just want to dive into the colors that surround me.  I, through my lens, just want to swim with the colors.  Let them fill my fill up my vision until there is nothing I can see but colors.

purple

violet

aubergine

I saw two sides of flowership today in my walk back to the station in Chiba.  One was a a single budding flower.  It was pushing through between a stone wall and an iron fence.  It contrasted so nicely with the cool gray stone on this overcast day.

The other was a group of tiny purple flowers.  They had all budded and were growing in the tight space between a wall and sidewalk.  There were about half a meter off the main street I was walking on, but there flowerhood caught my eye.  They were all working together in a tight space.

I know that it takes a community to care for each other, just as these flowers were.  They might not be holding hands, but I’m sure their roots are all intertwined under the earth.  Search out those connection to each other.  Those connections that are so vital to humans well being.

Don’t be afraid to show a little flowership, or flowerhood to each other.

I went to my public health screening yesterday.  I am thankful that at least one thing the Japanese government has gotten right.  It provides access to health care to all.  However, the air was so stale inside the auditorium it gave me a blistering headache.  Once I finished the screening and stepped back into the fresh air, I felt refreshed, but the headache still persisted.

I took a slow bike ride back home, even through the headache, this purple just spoke to me.  Looking at it made me feel a bit better, I was only able to snap a quick picture, and kept on peddling.

Thinking about how we need to be apart of our surroundings.  We need to participate in our community as best we can.  Learn to live in some harmony.  Seek out the colors that make each community unique.

Rain has been forecasted for the next several days, leading up to a typhoon that will come by Tokyo on Tuesday.  There is no rest for us.  I am thankful at least that it isn’t hot yet.  Sometimes it just seems that there is one disaster after another.  Earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, severe thunderstorms, typhoons, hurricanes.  I wonder if it will ever end, or are these signs of the times?

Given all the turbulence in the world, I will spend my sabbath with family and being thankful for the end of another week.  It is a weekly reminder of what is important, and what is not.  It gives me the pause to let that which is not important to just slide off from my soul.

At lest there is a little purple sunshine on a rainy, mist filled afternoon.  I wish all my friends and family a restful and fulfilling sabbath.

The odd weather just continues.  The skies have slowly grayed over the course of the day. By the time I was making my way home the gray completely covered the Tokyo skies.

I found a little garden that a household owner had set up on the street across from their house.  The brilliant purple and yellow flows were just there and singing under the gray skies.  They without a doubt but a happy end to a long day.  I am so thankful for all the variety of colors, flowers in the Fathers kingdom.