June Monologue, Day 17

Recently I have had headache, like this pressure behind my right eye. It comes and goes. I think it might be just sinutisis. So I am having my own treatment for it, drinking lots of water and a special herb tea. (Plus a humidifier). It has always kept this at bay and I think it will this time too. I don’t like taking pain killers because they feel like cheating. I want my body to tell me the truth.

There is possibility that it is not sinutisis and it’s something worse. I am actually glad about this possibility, because this forces me to saviour every moment of the remaining time I have left in this world. We only have now.

It’s rainy season in Japan. Somehow I have to write. I don’t know why.

Recently I saw exhibition of my friend Yoshimi Yokoyama, called “Praha, Monologue”. I was so impressed. How long has it been since I felt so much about pictures? Yokoyama’s photos made a permanent influence in my life. Photography should be honest and innocent like this. ”Praha, Monologue” is a rare flower .

There was another thing about the exhibition that really moved me, it was the music, Avalon Sutra by Harold Budd that was played in the gallery. I can understand exactly why the owner of the gallery chose it.


The owner of the gallery was  so kind and warm hearted. Even my 4 year old son got a  crying fit, (he just wanted to stay longer, didn’t want to return), the owner just smiled and made us relax. He even sent me a warm message afterwards and asked me to visit again with my son.

I continue to insist that art is necessary for life. We cannot live with food and water alone. We maybe able to survive, but surviving can not substitute living. We need emotional impact to drive us to seek for a higher place. Art is that impact.

Beauty is actually kind of dangerous, like the title of Harold Budd’s song, “It’s Steeper Near the Roses” says. Art needs risk, like standing on incline. But if we never stand on incline, we will never get higher.

If there is one thing that I have hold on to during all these years that have passed, it is to assert that I am not afraid of beauty. I will not run away from the beautiful place. We will get tired at entertainment, but never beauty.

Good thing about growing older is that we start to care less about the little nuisance. Slowly we start to realise that we have nothing to lose. We will surely pass away. Absolutely, completely certainly, there’s no question about it. Even gods will die. We will slow down.

Freedom does not mean a plane ticket to somewhere. I don’t want to go to other place. I will choose my thoughts by myself. I cannot choose the wind I am facing,  but I can choose my approach, my attitude, like in aviation world.

I am 37 years old. It feels like a fresh start.