Tag: personal

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Thoughts on home country

Living 19 years in Japan, how often I have been asked “Don’t you miss back home?”. It is one of the standard questions foreigners in Japan get asked, along with “do you like natto?”.

I haven’t been able to answer that question really honestly or deeply. “Sure of course”, has been one of the versions I have offered as an easy answer. It is true, but there is more to it than that.

It takes some time and distance, to truly understand the meaning of a home country. In fact I have lived more longer in a foreign country than in my own home town. It is only now that I understand what I truly felt about living in Finland.

To return back, feeling the atmosphere, smells and climate, it’s such a feeling that only those living permanently abroad can understand.

The smell of the wooden floor of Helsinki airport is what hits home first. That special sweet kind of smell, I am not quite sure what that is. The air even feels different here.

When I lived in Espoo, I used to spend a lot of time alone, just by myself. And I used to hang out in Helsinki Airport a lot. I listened Brian Eno in my iPod and looked at departing planes. And I was reading Banana Yoshimoto or edgy novels of Kenzaburo Oe. And I always dreamed of flying to Japan.

Dreams tend to come true. So not before long I found myself living in Japan permanently.

To me as of now, Finland to me feels as innocent as my dream was about living in Japan.

There was a time that I just felt I had to get away. I hurt my back in the compulsory Finnish Defense Forces training, and was released from service under special circumstances. My father did not take it well, seeing me as a somewhat challenged child.

I just had to go, no question about it. And now it feels like years have stretched longer than I thought.

Loving something or someone, that always is a very private feeling. When there is real love, there can never be one reason to it. We just either love or we don’t. Not being able to explain it is usually sign that the love is real.

Questioning one’s own identity, looking at places I have lived long time ago, is a powerful, purifying thing. It enables us to know ourselves more. I am still on that journey, maybe perhaps now more than ever.

Now at age of 46 I recognize how lucky I am to know these two worlds.
I feel like I have had chance to live two lifetimes.

We humans are not smart enough to understand time. And nostalgy is a mirror into ourselves.

I really recommend to experience living abroad. It is worth it, even if you decide to return.

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Exhibition

My exhibition 金木犀 “Fragrant Tree” was finished today. I am thankful for everyone who came to see my photos.

I feel happiness whenever I can feel human connection with someone. That is why I take a photo.

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Pre-Raphaelites

I found my new treasure last week. A book about Pre-Raphaelites, Masterpieces of Art by Gordon Kerr.

The paintings depict religious figures as normal people, then aspects of the society of the era and love and female beauty.

The strong emotional concepts of the paintings are so natural but never overstated. There was a painting of a sailor boy who learned about the passing of his mother after his return from the sea. The boy’s face is partially buried on the green grass, his cheeks red. His emotion is not shown directly, but by the face of a female figure next to him. It’s natural and beautiful.

The book makes me feel the strong empathy by the artists to the ordinary human suffering. The paintings never ridicule but wrap their subjects in a gentle fabric of artistic expression. Jesus stretching his arms in leisurely, his shadow accidentally being cast on a wood beam resembling his crucifixion, his mother shocked by the realization. His face is carefree and gay, maybe even stupidly so, yet this must be how the person lived in the real world.

The pictures surprise and I love to be surprised by art. “Art is love”, the book states. Maybe art is kind of celebration of human, the love expressed by the passion and sometimes chosen suffering of the artist, to express a higher truth about our existence.

For me art offers a kind of safe room to think about my life and past.

I wish we could live our lives more spiritually, celebrating our desire and existence.

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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.

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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.

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since I saw her..

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last time I spoke with her, she told me “don’t waste your life”.
I was shocked, me pitiful coward. So I ran away.

Peeking at the remaining evidence I realise,
None of these belongs to me

Forever, but never again

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Treasure

My friend presented me this beautiful box of Chinese tea. It tastes sweet.
I will serve this on my next exhibition day 7/18.

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Love is Black and White! 7/4 at Goodman

It was such a special day! I really felt moved by the beautiful people who came.
I had great time playing piano with my brother Ida-san. Music will come soon.
Also there was spontaneous session with two special artists. What a delight!
Thank you all for coming to this event. You made it so special.

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About my photography

I wrote in my old blog about my photography;

I used to hang out in bars and one of the most common question I was asked regarding my photos was “did you get a hard on?”. I try not to mind, and I sometimes just laughed and said “Of course!”. But in my heart I guess those comments always hurted me. These people have no idea.

and,

I was born naked to this world and my mother held me against her breasts. So I became alive. I became Jaakko. Without my mother’s love, I would not exist. There would be no world of Jaakko.

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Debriefing

You know sometimes things just fall in place naturally, you feel like you are auto-completing a puzzle; pieces just fit automatically and it’s a smooth ride from the start.

Well, making Maria was not one of those times. I had to cancel my exhibition once actually since my boy got a virus from his kindergarden. I had to give up months of work, just bite the bullet, and let it all vanish. I had just rented the frames, packed my works and shipped them to the gallery, then I got a call from my wife; “it’s a virus”. I knew it; to give up is the only way, abort mission, call the birds back, you know.

To my surprise, the gallery actually offered me four days from the following week, very kind of them. So I took the chance, although quite frankly, I was not in excellent mood.

The difficulties did not stop here however. In the following week while I was taking care of my feverish son, I caught a fever. 40C. I could barely get up on my feet. I knew if I let this chance pass, rest of the year for Maria is out of the question.

But I managed to make it on Sunday and with help of two important friends I could start the exhibition. Maria became a reality.

I learned something very important. It’s good to give up if you do it for the right reasons.

You have to be able to do it, because it’s never that serious or important. Sometimes it’s not just the right time; but then you also find out that the opportunity will come again. Like, when you receive gift from someone, it’s actually kind of really humbling, because all you can say is thanks. Thank you. What big and numerous gifts I received this time, not only beautiful flowers and cookies, but spiritually as well! Indeed, I want to say most humbly, “thank you”.

It’s always hard to do something like this but it really is worth of it, because of all the wonderful people who come to see my photos. It seems like Saint Maria was calling for them.. and then they wrote me these beautiful letters that made me cry.

It’s all big fun to start something and then finish it, plus, it’s great excuse to hang out with some really cool folks!