These days, it seems like everyone has some sort of blog. And if not, then they almost assuredly have a Facebook. Each of these things give people a medium to do something very important: think, and post those thoughts.
But these mediums are not perfect.
They're censored, often public, and not always great places to discuss personal ideas. So then what happens to these non-conforming thoughts? Because certainly, people think up an almost absurd amount of things every day. But when they're not recorded, they just get lost.
For almost a couple years, I've been writing down anything that feels important or moving, in a notepad on my phone. And it has probably been one of the best experiences of my life. I went to a concert about a year ago and I lost my phone, where all the notes were kept. And it didn't bother me that I'd lost my iPhone. The thing that really shook me was that I'd lost my collection of thoughts. Luckily, when I bought a new phone, my old notes had been backed up and re-added, so everything was saved. But really, my point is that if everyone chronicled their thoughts, if people didn't wait to get home to write about their day, if they didn't censor themselves the way they do in public spaces, then we could all come up with some pretty revolutionary ideas and learn huge amounts about ourself and the world. And this is not to say that I'm cooking up an intellectual response to the Communist Manifesto. Most of my "thoughts" probably don't seem life changing. To be honest, I'm probably pretty average. But I give myself room to grow and analyze and understand by keeping a diary, not of my day, but of my brain. The little pieces that begin to morph together reveal so much to me about myself, the people I interact with, and especially, the world I live in. I'd love for other people to do this, too. If you don't have a notepad on your phone, then just carry around a small notepad. It's simple, but it's worth it. Let me know if you start. It'd probably make my day.
Now, on an unrelated note, here is the second installment of pictures from my recent trip to the Kansai region of Japan (which is much more Southern than where I live). The places we explored were...incredible. Temples so large that they made people look like ants, wild deer and monkeys roaming streets and mountain trails, greens and blues and browns like they only exist in Crayola boxes. These places are called Kyoto and Nara. Enjoy.
Camera: Nikon FM10
Film: Portra 400
Previous: Kansai Trip, Pt. 1
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Time Malfunctions and Explorations Across Japan
At the end of every year, I feel like we (or at least me) always say that it felt like those 365 days flew by. This year is no different. 2011? Flash. Sometimes I forget what year we're even in because things move so quickly. It makes me wonder if when we eventually die, will our entire life have seemed to fly by, too? My guess is that it will, since it seems like my life so far has been nothing longer than a waking dream. And if that's true, then all I can think about is "time." Time is so interesting to me. Perhaps only because calendar-based societies made it so. But we slap a number on a unit of time, such as year, and we spread the idea that a year is a somewhat long period of time. And then when it passes, we're surprised at how quickly it left us. I wonder if time is only a construction of the human mind. Maybe we live in moments, memories, and feelings instead.
A housefly's lifespan is only about 10-25 days long. Do you think that when it passes away, it feels like it's lived a long life? Does it feel satisfied? Does each day quickly pass, or does its life feel more consistently paced since it has no perception of time besides the setting sun and rising moon? I feel like a housefly dies with the same completeness that we do as humans.
In a month, I have to decide whether or not to re-contract and stay another year in Japan. It's interesting how easily we can brand experiences based on the time they existed. Some people have already decided to hop on board for year number two. That's awesome. But it's hard for me to quantify this experience into minutes and months. Some days in Japan give me more life and inspiration than I felt like I've experienced all year. And other days blend together seamlessly and are forgotten by the next week. And then we feel bad about that. "I should do more." "I should make every day here count." What a Western way I've been thinking. Most moments in our life ultimately don't matter and are mere stepping stones to the ones that will, but boxing them into days makes it seem like they should. It's like one of those mosaic collages, where thousands of pictures are intricately placed and up close, feel important, individual, real...but only when we step back to see the bigger picture - the ultimate image that was there all along - do we really understand anything about ourselves. Perhaps when we stop thinking in terms of time, we can start thinking in terms of that bigger picture. Will I stay another year in Japan? I'm not sure. A year is an odd unit of time. It sounds long to think about it, flies by when it happens, and seems to almost have never existed once it becomes a memory. Either way, I know that when I leave, it will be with a smile, both for everything I've learned and loved in this country, and for everything I have to look forward to after.
And speaking of time, I just got back from a two-week vacation with one of my best friends. I'll expand on it more in another post, but those two weeks felt more expansive than almost any other measure of time I've felt here. I visited Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, and Osaka and took quite a lot of photos. Most of the ones below are from Tokyo, but expect to see the other cities in coming posts.
Lastly, I am a new member of a photo collective called The Sunday Huddle. I've really admired their photographers' work for awhile and I'm super excited and honored to be collaborating with them now. Check out the website at thesundayhuddle.com
Cameras Used: Nikon FM2, Nikon FM10
Film: Portra 400, Natura 1600
-M
A housefly's lifespan is only about 10-25 days long. Do you think that when it passes away, it feels like it's lived a long life? Does it feel satisfied? Does each day quickly pass, or does its life feel more consistently paced since it has no perception of time besides the setting sun and rising moon? I feel like a housefly dies with the same completeness that we do as humans.
In a month, I have to decide whether or not to re-contract and stay another year in Japan. It's interesting how easily we can brand experiences based on the time they existed. Some people have already decided to hop on board for year number two. That's awesome. But it's hard for me to quantify this experience into minutes and months. Some days in Japan give me more life and inspiration than I felt like I've experienced all year. And other days blend together seamlessly and are forgotten by the next week. And then we feel bad about that. "I should do more." "I should make every day here count." What a Western way I've been thinking. Most moments in our life ultimately don't matter and are mere stepping stones to the ones that will, but boxing them into days makes it seem like they should. It's like one of those mosaic collages, where thousands of pictures are intricately placed and up close, feel important, individual, real...but only when we step back to see the bigger picture - the ultimate image that was there all along - do we really understand anything about ourselves. Perhaps when we stop thinking in terms of time, we can start thinking in terms of that bigger picture. Will I stay another year in Japan? I'm not sure. A year is an odd unit of time. It sounds long to think about it, flies by when it happens, and seems to almost have never existed once it becomes a memory. Either way, I know that when I leave, it will be with a smile, both for everything I've learned and loved in this country, and for everything I have to look forward to after.
And speaking of time, I just got back from a two-week vacation with one of my best friends. I'll expand on it more in another post, but those two weeks felt more expansive than almost any other measure of time I've felt here. I visited Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, and Osaka and took quite a lot of photos. Most of the ones below are from Tokyo, but expect to see the other cities in coming posts.
Lastly, I am a new member of a photo collective called The Sunday Huddle. I've really admired their photographers' work for awhile and I'm super excited and honored to be collaborating with them now. Check out the website at thesundayhuddle.com
Cameras Used: Nikon FM2, Nikon FM10
Film: Portra 400, Natura 1600
the emptiness and fulfillment it creates
cute old couple with linked arms
-M
Tags:
film,
japan,
nikon fm10,
Nikon FM2,
tokyo
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