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What I submitted.
Dec. 3rd, 2009 11:17 amI'm home sick. I am not happy. My head hurts and I'm in a hungry-but-nauseated-by-food mode.
So, since the contest deadline has passed and I'm not likely to win because I never win anything and because I'm pretty pleased with this bit of writing, I am posting what I submitted to the Japan in 2010 contest last month.
You ask why I want to go to Japan?
I want to sit beneath a blazing maple and compose poetry about an impermanent moment. I want to follow the gliding footsteps of such formidable women as Sei Shonagon and Ben no Naishi. I want to gaze into the depths at Dan no Ura and mourn the passing of a child Emperor and the horrific loss of millions at Hiroshima, for Japan is its history.
I want to linger before Kano Hideyoshi's The Maple Viewers and puzzle over the fate of the Gaki Zoshi. I want to weep at the kabuki and laugh at kyogen. I want to marvel at the virtuosity of shibori and yuzen embellishment of silk kimono. I want to watch masters at their crafts, creating beauty, for Japan is its art.
I want to breathe in the peace of a garden, and gaze at the heights of Fuji and walk beneath green forest branches and watch the moon rise above the sea, for Japan is its landscape.
I want to eat takoyaki that wasn't made with hamburger meat, and slurp ramen at a food stall. I want to nibble dorayaki and savor fresh caught sashimi. I want to sip sake and contemplate tea and taste incense, for Japan has its own flavors.
I want to dance at a matsuri. I want to ask for directions. I want to bow and be bowed to. I want to find friends I just haven't met yet, and play rock-paper-scissors over a cup or two of sake, for Japan is its people.
I fell in love with Japan through its history and its arts. To be able to visit, well, I hesitate to call it a dream for that idealizes and belittles it at the same time. The acquaintance I have made with Japan through books, film, literature in translation and the internet is rather like the Shining Prince hearing a lovely voice in another room or glimpsing a silken hem and thinking to himself, "I must find out who she is!"
It's that simple. I must find out who Japan is. I must meet her face to face.
(EDIT: Fact check. That should be "thousands," not "millions" on the atomic bomb casualties. I composed this thing using the online form the contest provided, which had a built-in limit of 2010 keystrokes, and then cut-and-pasted it into a document on my PC so I could save a copy.)
So, since the contest deadline has passed and I'm not likely to win because I never win anything and because I'm pretty pleased with this bit of writing, I am posting what I submitted to the Japan in 2010 contest last month.
You ask why I want to go to Japan?
I want to sit beneath a blazing maple and compose poetry about an impermanent moment. I want to follow the gliding footsteps of such formidable women as Sei Shonagon and Ben no Naishi. I want to gaze into the depths at Dan no Ura and mourn the passing of a child Emperor and the horrific loss of millions at Hiroshima, for Japan is its history.
I want to linger before Kano Hideyoshi's The Maple Viewers and puzzle over the fate of the Gaki Zoshi. I want to weep at the kabuki and laugh at kyogen. I want to marvel at the virtuosity of shibori and yuzen embellishment of silk kimono. I want to watch masters at their crafts, creating beauty, for Japan is its art.
I want to breathe in the peace of a garden, and gaze at the heights of Fuji and walk beneath green forest branches and watch the moon rise above the sea, for Japan is its landscape.
I want to eat takoyaki that wasn't made with hamburger meat, and slurp ramen at a food stall. I want to nibble dorayaki and savor fresh caught sashimi. I want to sip sake and contemplate tea and taste incense, for Japan has its own flavors.
I want to dance at a matsuri. I want to ask for directions. I want to bow and be bowed to. I want to find friends I just haven't met yet, and play rock-paper-scissors over a cup or two of sake, for Japan is its people.
I fell in love with Japan through its history and its arts. To be able to visit, well, I hesitate to call it a dream for that idealizes and belittles it at the same time. The acquaintance I have made with Japan through books, film, literature in translation and the internet is rather like the Shining Prince hearing a lovely voice in another room or glimpsing a silken hem and thinking to himself, "I must find out who she is!"
It's that simple. I must find out who Japan is. I must meet her face to face.
(EDIT: Fact check. That should be "thousands," not "millions" on the atomic bomb casualties. I composed this thing using the online form the contest provided, which had a built-in limit of 2010 keystrokes, and then cut-and-pasted it into a document on my PC so I could save a copy.)
