Pray

sky1 (2)_processed
Food is not enough to live. It may be enough for surviving, but surviving cannot substitute living. We need spiritual nourishment to feel alive. We need a way to grow.

If this is a journey, then photography is a means of transportation for me. It is my way for getting to the other side.

I do not particularly like comfort. It’s not that I want to be uncomfortable, and we all need a sense of security too. But I do not take photos because it’s fun.

Sure, you could say it’s kind of fun. It is definitely not boring, and it’s such a great excuse to meet other people. And I like to discuss about photography with strangers. But it’s is sometimes like getting naked in front of others. They can see you, but you can’t see them; you are exposed while they are under protective covers. Especially when you exhibit your work.

How many times I have said that I will quit? Well, too many times. I should stop doing that. But somehow, I always end up returning, just like this.

Then, photography is a way for me to feel free and connected.

I wish we humans would have more opportunities to enhance ourselves spiritually in our daily lives.
This wish is my prayer. I pray for the spontaneous conversation to happen.

When I ride my bicycle

When I was a young, my father taught me a basic bicycle maintenance. Just a basic things like checking the air in the tires, putting the chain back back on the gears when it fell off, and patching the tires if they got broken. His hands were strong and steady and I felt there was nothing he couldn’t fix.

You could say that in our world today, knowledge like that doesn’t make much difference. All you need to do is take the bicycle to the shop and they’ll repair and maintain it, often for free.  But I want to teach my son one day how to do those things, just the same.

I love riding a bicycle. Bicycles are simple, agile and quiet. They don’t make noise or pollution and they never block the traffic. On weekdays I take my son to the kindergarten by my pink electric assist bicycle, “a mother chariot” (mama-chari) as they are known in Japan. It’s super comfortable to drive. “Japanese women really are smart”, I thought when I tried it first time.

I love the feeling of fresh air on my cheek in morning when we ride together with my son. I say good morning to the handsome man checking the traffic near a construction site on the way, and sometimes I chat with some of the mothers in the kindergarten. Sometimes we talk about bicycles, sometimes about weather or other topics. These moments are treasures of my life.

I think about death a lot. I used to think about it when I was in my twenties but now even more. I might get hit by a truck when I’m crossing a road. Or maybe I fall on stairs and my skull cracks open. There is no way of knowing when, but one day for sure will be the last day. We must have courage to look at the beauty in our lives.. No, we must celebrate it!

Like many others such as me, I have spent my days in a fog, locking myself into my small space. I was stupid and selfish and hurt my friends who just wanted to help me. I said I was depressed, but actually I was just a shit head, as the crow outside my window said. Yet people forgave me. Ignoring my selfish words, they offered me their hand again. Thinking about my friends is like feeling the sunshine on my cheek.

There are many kinds of roads to choose, expressways, landscape routes and even small paths in the forest you can only walk. If this was your last day, which one would you choose?

There is a song by Blonde Redhead which has the line “But we’ll have fine time not getting there”. Perhaps arriving there doesn’t matter as much as how we spend the time getting there. The biggest present we can give to someone is time.

One day I will drive my bicycle in Kamakura and stare at the sea. It will be a perfect day, and I will say thanks for the crow. The sea will be gentle a there will be neither regret or fear. Perhaps my son will be driving his bicycle elsewhere, gaining mileage in his own odometer, looking at the same scenery.

You only live once.

Song of Yesterday, Flood of Today

I love Michael Moore’s “Capitalism, Love Story”.

I realized how HUGE impact the movie made within these four years. We just don’t live in same world than we did in 2009. Capitalism is yesterday’s song. It’s gone. Communities are formed everywhere, people are waking up to realize the value of each other’s help and spiritual thinking. People grow healthy food by themselves and share it with their friends. Money just isn’t as valuable as it was before. True innovation and originality is suddenly more valuable than gold.

It’s pretty remarkable to live in this era and see this change happening. It’s huge flood; something impossible to stop.

It was snowing this morning

I came to my wife’s hometown Ise couple of days ago. Since this is very local place and foreigners are a rare sight here, I must admit I have been a bit nervous sometimes to take a walk outside with my camera.

In some strange way, I have been worried I get into some trouble, or that people wouldn’t accept my existence. You know how closed agricultural society can be.

But this morning as it was snowing, I was greeted by elderly lady just nearby the house, you know she had warmest, most heartfelt smile, and she just kept talking about the weather, and asked how cold it gets in Finland. She treated me just the same as she would treat any  other resident of the town, and it was so natural. I felt warm by her kind words.

I realize that there’s no slightest reason to be nervous. People are same everywhere. I am always me and you are always you.

So don’t be afraid to go out and take a picture.