Friday, October 5, 2007
That feeling of over full. That distance, where my mind skips among tangents. Outside is so clear. A large box on the kitchen table sent from grandma in Saitama. Kai asleep in her friend's house, where math help was the pretext while solidarity and friendship more likely the inspiration. Zen is now hidden away in his bed has awakened and come up to use the upstairs toilet. The sweet silence of Hieidaira on a sunny Saturday late morning. I have been up for hours moving between podcasts, sorted microphones and cables, cleaning dishes, stuffing my face, napping, watering plants, folding laundry, all the gestures that slice my time into manageable distractions. All I have planned is to make some kind of movie to document our life here for my dad, and later meet a friend. Monday is sports day here in Japan. I am off. My life is a mystery, my obsessive behavior some textbook model for lessons being taught on another planet. A strange disturbing odor whiffs through my window. Is it vent gas, a dead cat, or a rancid planter.
Posted by Robert L. Seltman