Beginning to let the light in

The laptop is not a welcome guest in my ancient glass veranda. It precariously topples aloft an imperfect wooden stool, commanding a more linear clean surface than it's designated wabi sabi perch. There is a thin cobweb dangling from the bamboo pole being teased by the breeze. The sun shines once more through the cloudy glass and bathes my toes and wrists in the glorious. I am beginning to notice what I need. I sometimes buck the structure of the day, rearing my head to the learning of the Japanese language, choosing instead to watch the plants, the light. I want to notice nature as much as the Hiragana, Katakana and Kanji that dominate the world outside these paper walls. In turn I am also examining myself. Without the people, things and rituals that provided daily definition, I turn my eyes to the rest. It is a discovery, as though each day I explore both within and around, but struggle to articulate my findings. I take afternoon strolls to get lost in the newness and attempt to start dialogues about all I observe. Those dialogues, that I have always needed to have, wherever in the world I have been, have taken place over tea, across bridges, in parks, on sofas. Here they are all virgin thoughts, some naive or ridiculous, others obvious or contrary, some are laced with wonder and awe. And I feel reluctant to give them flight. In search of where they could reside, without them causing distractions, I wonder and wander. 

There has been a shift here in this dreamy country since the earthquake. I feel that, though I have never visited Japan before. I read about a change in attitude for the future, for the better and I read about the feelings of futility expressed by some. The futility of love, of connecting with another person. I am fearful and then I am inquisitive and questioning. I turn these thoughts into ideas on wood. I study, draw and carve a woodcut in hope. Perhaps this is what Japanese craftsmen have always done. 

Ideas into wood. Concepts to nature. Nature into understanding.

I spend a good deal of each day with my nature.