today. you and we. happy birthday miss asuka
a year passes – 誕生日お目出度う happy birthday, aka-chan 生日快乐 – the day whiles away… late afternoon, almost evening… more space these days for time, for thought for re-collecting, gathering, re-organizing, arranging, and you, ever-preparing for an unfinished moment, future, now in a box, the a-4 papers placed on top as they don’t fit, remembering in april to prepare for may, but when? after ten? after twenty? alas the archive! a year passes – 誕生日お目出度う happy birthday, aka-chan 生日快乐 – the day whiles away… a day with the memory of you and your birthday, perhaps not so different from the year before just that we didn’t record or we didn’t say. so today we learn new things, we capture video, eat a good crispy jian bing, we wear things long forgotten, we receive a phone call from japan, do grocery shopping, cycle to the village, we watch dance, we buy more food in the village, apples, bananas, pears, peanuts mixed with raisins, two filled pancakes and an egg pancake, and we search for a picture of a birthday cake we don’t find, only the not so good one where the candle wasn’t lit and more food is visible on the table, while searching we collect other images, we stop for a moment, we miss you – a year passes – 誕生日お目出度う happy birthday, aka-chan 生日快乐 – the day nears its end… miss asuka-chan, how was your day?
on the verge
回来了，回去了. the hours in between. a trying, an attempt, to make sense of it all, or, digestion, reflection, but, no tripod, or quick thinking, books on a table, and the weather, the weather, apologies, it might have been more interesting, to you, had i made recordings, a spontaneous idea from a flight on sterling, a quick purchase at hema, yet a nasty view of the hotel swimming pool at the holiday inn topkapi, and a continuous falling asleep, the inability to get up at the crack of dawn, and a fear of hotel personnel, so then your memory (always fails) for the last (four) hours before the dash for a forgotten jacket – “i’m only here for a day, i don’t live here anymore, i don’t think it would work out for your greenpeace promotion.. sorry….” in haste forgetting thoughts of afore: contemporary swedish souvenirs: svensson jeans and henry geldzahlers words: “russians are the worst expats, no matter how long they’ve been living in another country, 20 years or more, they’re still yearning for russia.” and yes or no quotation marks, alternate shots, dot dot, wipe, dot dot, wipe, and ‘child’ might have been better than ‘baby’, a shock at the dinner table, and the wonders of photoshop when misspelling words in foreign languages, and perhaps one should stick to single lines in future… …but thank you very much for your words, it was nice to see you (again)…
Posted by a | more »the street without glove
today as i was cycling i passed over a small crumpled brown satin glove on the street, and, as i always do, thought of aka, about taking a photo of a glove on the street for her, as she always did, as she perhaps still does. but it’s a busy process, this taking of photos of lost gloves on streets, and at some point i stopped to do it anymore, because there are just so many lost gloves on streets around the world, and maybe they are quite even the most lost things in the world, beyond money and pets and love. f says that she always thinks of aka when she sees gloves, too. so we are consistently finding the lost things, and whether or not we take the picture, we keep losing and finding and losing again —- the thought. the money, the pets, the love.
and these thoughts happened within the space of about 50 meters, at which point i happened to ride right past the matching small brown satin glove, and though i didn’t stop, i slowed down a bit, thinking how this may be the first time in my life to see a whole pair lost, not quite together, but close. and maybe they weren’t lost, maybe the woman riding her bicycle could feel the spring as i do when i ride my bicycle these days, and she decided to fling her gloves away in joy. oh, the thought!
and so i couldn’t resist anymore, the chance to find and take a photo of a pair of lost brown satin gloves, so i slowed down more, turned around and started to go back to the place where i passed them. But just as i turned around, a man on a scooter slows down and swiftly picks up the small brown satin glove from the street and rides right past me.
so… the gloves and the money and the pets and the love.
sigh…
and a photograph for you.
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