Breaking into the secret stash hauled back from the BC Invasion / JJBean Railtown roast ~ “dark and smoky” like my soul :) Memories of this brew daily in the Dunlevy days (which i’ll leave at that).

Ya remember?

Anyhow, the three of us set off on a little adventure by bus.

The first place we arrived to was the wrong place so another bus to get to the place which was rather confusing to find. We were in search of a “digital” Vincent van Gogh exhibit which I had seen in spectacular reviews and pictures in other cities. This one was the “not necessarily deluxe” version but still, what if it was awesome and we missed it…?

The location featured some kind of super fancy food court on the first floor, some exhibit and retail space on the second floor, maybe some office space on the third and fourth floor… If I sound a bit confused it’s because I didn’t quite understand the “magnet” to get folks to come here & it’s not on a usual transport route and the shops were quite specialized but what do I know. I do know it was just confusing.

By the time we got there, the little guy was eager for some ice cream, me up for an iced coffee, and well since we were there just before the 12 o’clock horn signals the rampage for lunch, some lunch before hitting the exhibit.

The exhibit frankly was pretty underwhelming, some flatscreen TVs with some not particularly hi-res reproduction of the paintings (keep in mind, I’ve seen the two major collection of van Goghs as well as many one offs so very familiar with the works) / in some cases there was the requisite baritone voice over, filled with sadness & melancholy while slide shows of works slip by at the pace you would watch your cousin in law’s crappy vacation slides to Cabo and unnecessary “special effects” to make the photos of the paintings move very unnaturally.

Aside from the underwhelming digital and projection works and the maudlin overdubs, there was a cool little reproduction of the bedroom Vincent prepared for Paul Gauguin which later became a painting which includes paintings, which are also paintings. So i stopped for a nap / or at least my usual cheesy pose with a floppy hat and a sunflower tie.

Old Vincent’s letters and the backstory between him and brother Theo and Theo’s widow Joanna Bognár are such an integral part of the way V’s story developed posthumously and I can barely look at the letters without seeing my own life as overblown as that sounds. I mean I see them and I know… how it feels to have your heart burn to only want to create create create, sleeping, eating, none of it is interesting, just a feeling of putting a thing out into the world… ahhhh forget it – blerg

Yeah we hit the gift shop, I bought a handkerchief (of the postman) and a postcard (of the husband and wife farmers nestled in a straw field taking a rest).

As I do – duh – I observed a few oddities like a vending machine selling salad dressing. Look at that luscious shade of seafoam green!

And, behind a net (because the bike shop inexplicably on the second floor of a strangely positioned pavilion and closed on a sunny summer day) was a magnificent Kona long tail Ute displayed with a coffee station on the back wooden bench. Oh the dreams!

While Ichi and Mama had their alone time, I was treated to a half-hour foot massage which was quite exquisite. I love massage yet live in the “East Asian country without Asian stuff like massages and pedicures everywhere” – I mean, a lot of countries which are our geographical neighbors have entirely different routines when it comes to night markets and self care but anyhow, this was quite lovely aside from the noise of the, did I mention, very strange building.

Then back on two buses as we talked about the upcoming routine in which I will pick Stanley up from “mountain preschool” and we will ride street car and then bus back home to the cottage. {There are 3 local bus companies with franchise agreements for serving different areas of the region but the one that comes to our house is by far the best. The bus loop at the Okayama train station is terribly designed and they should be redesigning that instead of the other construction they have going on but no one asks me.}

At last! Home (keeping in mind, the day after the tropical storm with bright sun an incredible humidity) where Papa took a rest and Mama whipped up a wonderful feast of venison from the wild boar trapper along with corn from the wizard in Nagano and blueberry sauce with berries from our garden. She is truly a wonder!

Mac-san showed up (arriving while I was snoozing) I rallied up, made us coffees before dinner with which he was duly impressed / dude has high standards and strong opinions so that’s always pleasant.

Of course our convos covered many many topics as we broke into the JJ Bean coffee, plus fig newtons, Cadbury fruit and nut chocolate and some other almond caramel confections brought back from Canada.

Plus we sampled some curious Lecure from Sons Of Vancouver which is usually used in fancy tiki drinks but we just did a little sipping from Sasquatch cups.

Mac and I went out to the kura and sifted through the stacks of records i keep on meeting to make videos about and properly clean, categorize, inventory and enjoy. Listened to REM “automatic for the people” and Lou Reed (listened to Leonard Cohen, Sunny Day Real Estate and Bocephus King during dinner by the way)

Also I had some “dude time” to talk about a few things that have been weighing on my mind since coming back from BC, his dreams and schemes for the goat farm, and while doing so, sifted through stickers, posters, papers, ephemera from the trip, sent him home with an envelope and I also assembled some mic stands and attached some microphones for some well… Dreams and schemes

I turn off the birthday notifications on the so-called social channels and trying to kind of hang out here when have something to say but still, of course friends remember and my buddy Banghi in Olympia remix’d a photo from a very strange night at Mr. Fredrikson’s house somewhere in Thurston County, burning artifacts to close a chapter. Now, I seem to be existing in the midst of an animated, articulated, quasi-realistic future scape with my phwa phwa hair and beverage intact. Thanks for that surprise.

So there it goes, 53, now to be worn by Teddy Blueger of Latvia for the Canucks.

Addendum: the morning of August 17 here in Japan is obviously still August 16 in North America so spent some time on the phone catching up with some friends and opened a few well-timed letters from Rancho Mirage, California and Austin, Texas. Thank you friend so very much.

“The present is an unfinished poem…”