7 July 2005 to 21 June 2005
Tokyo Metro, Tsukiji to Omote-Sando
Tokyu Hands, Shibuya
Nishi Shinjuku Hotel, Shinjuku
Tokyo Metro, Asakusa to Shinjuku
Mori Center 50F, Roppongi Hills
Mori Center 52F, Roppongi Hills
Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum, Shin-Yokohama
Pronto, Shinjuku
Pura Dalem Agung, Ubud
Segara Giri Kencana, Menjangan Island
Taman Sari, Pemuteran
Delta Dewata supermarket, Ubud
Ngurah Rai Airport, Denpasar
shinkansen platform, Shinagawa
Hikari shinkansen, Shinagawa to Kyoto
Kiyomizu-dera, Kyoto
Kyoto Museum for World Peace, Ritsumeikan University, Kyoto
Ryoanji, Kyoto
OPA department store, Kyoto
Shinagawa station, Tokyo
toro and hamachi, Daiwa Sushi, Tsukiji
breakfast hotdog, Presto, East Shinjuku
unidentified pastry, Presto, East Shinjuku
takoyaki, sidewalk cart, Ueno Park
Japan half-and-half, Bar Del Sole, Roppongi
bi bim bap and bulgogi, Saikabo, Shinjuku My City
ramen, Komurasaki, Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum
lukewarm soup, unnamed warung, Candi Kuning
banana fritter, Ngiring Ngawedang, Munduk
palm-sugar crepes, Taman Sari, Pemuteran
Pocari Sweat, boat off Menjangan Island
nasi goreng ananda, Ananda, Candi Kuning
random ekiben #1, Shinagawa
random ekiben #2, Shinagawa
ramen, near Kinkakuji, Kyoto
tea spigot, Musashi kaitenzushi, Kyoto
¶ 30 June 2005
Zapruder Point: The O.M. (0.9M mp3)
from It's Always the Quiet Ones
I loaded the CD-changer in my car before the trip, so interspersed with all the new Japanese pop and trip-photo sorting and back-at-work denial and willful continuing other-cultural immersion, I've been hearing a few records I was pondering before I left. I'm dancing around to ultra-produced big-corporate techno-pop in a language I only sporadically understand and even less often actually empathize with, but I'm also standing still, humming small, wistful, under-produced, uncalculated reasons for being home to feel right.
from It's Always the Quiet Ones
I loaded the CD-changer in my car before the trip, so interspersed with all the new Japanese pop and trip-photo sorting and back-at-work denial and willful continuing other-cultural immersion, I've been hearing a few records I was pondering before I left. I'm dancing around to ultra-produced big-corporate techno-pop in a language I only sporadically understand and even less often actually empathize with, but I'm also standing still, humming small, wistful, under-produced, uncalculated reasons for being home to feel right.
¶ our trip as a movement of objects · 26 June 2005
¶ telegram from the future · 26 June 2005
It is 12:14am on Sunday in Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA. About 30 hours ago it was 7am on Saturday in Kyoto, Japan, so after two buses, two trains, two planes and too many benches to count B and I are well into Sunday afternoon. Time-travel is possible, but you end up far too tired to think of any clever way to exploit it. We're going to sleep now, and tomorrow it will finally be today again.
¶ telegram from Kyoto · 23 June 2005
If I had 1001 40-armed guardians watching over me I'd probably be more Zen, too.
¶ telegram from Ubud · 21 June 2005
From being anomalous and anonymous, we have gone to being obvious and implored. Bali is both stunning and desperate in nearly every frame. "Will you come back to Bali?" is the fourth question everyone asks us, and we've barely even arrived. Tropical aquariums are now ruined for me, wider roads now enchanted. An oceanside palace for 4 in Pemuteran costs more than a bed-size room in Shinjuku, but only by about $4. Which is about 50 cents for each form in which I ate bananas.
The geckos and B and I all send our love.
The geckos and B and I all send our love.