The sights and sounds of the morning fresh
Are subsumed within your deep, black depths
For a time nothing else matters but that scalding, fresh kick
A jump-start towards the obstacles ahead.
An effervescent explosion of ideas begins
Soon lost to the diminishing aftermath
To be forgotten evermore
Just as soon as the banal everyday acts crowd in.
Yet in that diminutive, personal oasis of time
where calm battles a raging heart and mind
I find my contentment in this swirling juxtaposition
And reflect on just how flawless life can be.
Ways well worn
This familiar place of stone and brick
Temporal, yet not entirely material
Spectres of the past
memories distant impose themselves
On the present,
An overlay of times a world away
Recovered only in reminiscences
The bustling city
Shorn of its socialness,
A perturbing reminder of the past
Often we meet in imagination
Do I dream
Or the city?
In a Tokyo suburb, a young man named Toru Okada searches for his wife’s missing cat – and then for his wife as well – in a netherworld beneath the city’s placid surface. As these searches intersect, he encounters a bizarre group of allies and antagonists.
Reading this novel is certainly an arresting experience. There is a cold aspect to the writing, a sense of detachment, which makes it nonetheless strangely compelling. The relaxed tone of the narrator makes this a novel of normality and functionality of life, which heavily contrasts with the extraordinary and the imaginative (or is it supernatural?) rabbit hole it soon encompasses.
Murakami doesn’t always join the dots, or at least not in an obvious way. I like that. Instead he encourages the reader to consider the bigger themes. It’s a thought-provoking piece of literature in many ways, crammed full with lots of symbolism and elusive connections, and one exceptionally gory scene which was a bit much, when it came to the details.
There is a rare insight into the Japanese people and their history, regarding the occupation of Northern China and the Manchurian campaigns of World War II. The themes of how different types of power and pain that can drive a person, and how different spaces can affect the mind are a constant companion, the book is about the physical as much as the psychological. Continue reading “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle – Haruki Murakami”
It’s Monday and catching up on the YouTube I follow after a few day’s absence was predictably depressing. There was a ‘woke’ BBC sketch (this is the BBC that has admitted it would never commission something like Monty Python these days) that has been doing the rounds recently which was mildly amusing – at best – but (and although I don’t always agree with him) this Jonathan Pie tirade really gets the message across in a much more forceful way.
It’s a much-needed rant and I believe he speaks for many sane people on the subject, just with more expletives. We only get one life, we should concentrate on saving the culture as well as the physical planet. It would be great to hold all these virtue signallers to account and mock them mercilessly – as nobody has the right not to be offended – but if you notice, more and more websites are disabling or deleting comments that echo Mr Pie’s…funny that.
To the final post from this wonderful museum and more variety and intriguing works were to be seen,
and to kick things off, there is nothing like a bit of a nod to Europe to start, even it is of the dark days…
I love this painting for really showing not only the imagination of the artist but the crazy ideas we all possess that are waiting to get out.
This one was about an exploding woman made of cheese, if memory serves me correctly. I prefer the idea of the mainstream traditional media having egg all over themselves thanks to their increasingly questionable news reporting. Continue reading “And Out the Other Side”
Continuing the tour through various galleries of the Pintô Art Museum and the diverse work of Filipino artists took a slightly more whimsical, wooden direction this time.
I am rubbish at filters so sorry if these are again poor quality, it is partly that and also the lack of light which is a constant struggle to someone clueless when it comes to such things.
I like the wooden, framed effects of this artwork. Overall this was my favourite gallery for consistency in theme. Continue reading “Further inside the Pintô Art Museum”