Shopping karma
Jun. 4th, 2011 07:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdymonkeyNo, I didn't get a tea bowl. Danny Dastrup didn't have any out for sale this time around. I did, however, purchase a large vase of his after walking past it several times and thinking, "No. I shouldn't. Where will I put it?" I tried taking pictures and they do not do this gorgeous glaze justice. (And LJ is being a butt about uploads.) I also bought some Venetian glass earrings and pendants by Janie Rose - they were deeply marked down and can go in the Christmas horde for presents. Bonus: Danny was at the register. Always nice to make an artist feel appreciated. Especially when he has a cute grin. 
Swung north to the Ichiban Kan in El Cerrito, seeing as a certain Daimyo of Cynagua has become addicted to Nori Ten nori and wasabi crackers. Replaced the bamboo strainer that got crushed in my kitchen box while I was at it. Cut back south through Berkeley and picked up tea at Lhasa Kharnak for Sciath who went bonkers for the Lapsang Souchong I served at Coronet. Found two books at Moe's for cheap: The Monkey as Metaphor and Tea Culture of Japan. Splurged and threw my cold, wet self on a Persian burger at Bongo Burger, then came home and watched Chushingura.
I first saw Chushingura in 2001. Gaius had toddled off to California, gotten cold feet and broken up with me via email. I was permitted exactly one weekend to wallow, then James decided to keep me occupied, dragging me out of the apartment to go do stuff or showing up on the doorstep with then-girlfriend Kellie, a pizza and a video. Chushingura was, in the eyes of the man who will always be my yojimbo, supposed to distract me from my own troubles without reminding me of them. I honestly don't remember much of it from the first time around other than a blur of costumes and subtitles and oh, there goes Toshiro Mifune, I think, and James nudging the pizza box at me across the futon and Kellie falling asleep....
A revisit was well worth it, particularly after seeing Takashi Miike's 13 Assassins recently. Lengthy exposition (clocking in at 206 minutes)means having to hit pause for bathroom breaks and tea refills, but Inagaki's epic is beautiful to look at, the characters get to develop and become recognizable and win your sympathy (that is, when you're not moping over a broken heart) , and the final raid on Kira's compound is satisfying, though, having been filmed in 1963, less grisly than Assassins. A seppuku scene goes out of focus at the final stroke, another is shown in silhouette against shoji (though there is a sudden spray of blood against the paper). We don't see Kira lose his head and the 47's mass suicide is referred to in an epilogue over a scene of fluttering camp curtains. My particular favorite is the Asano vassal who allays suspicions of plotting by spending all this time in the red light district. Informed that his son has committed suicide for having accidentally killed a woman, he tells the girls his pet sparrow died and suggests they hold a wake for it. "Oh, you've caught me crying!" he says, showing them how he splashed water on his face, and splashes their faces to squeals of laughter, then covers his own face with his hand.
Swung north to the Ichiban Kan in El Cerrito, seeing as a certain Daimyo of Cynagua has become addicted to Nori Ten nori and wasabi crackers. Replaced the bamboo strainer that got crushed in my kitchen box while I was at it. Cut back south through Berkeley and picked up tea at Lhasa Kharnak for Sciath who went bonkers for the Lapsang Souchong I served at Coronet. Found two books at Moe's for cheap: The Monkey as Metaphor and Tea Culture of Japan. Splurged and threw my cold, wet self on a Persian burger at Bongo Burger, then came home and watched Chushingura.
I first saw Chushingura in 2001. Gaius had toddled off to California, gotten cold feet and broken up with me via email. I was permitted exactly one weekend to wallow, then James decided to keep me occupied, dragging me out of the apartment to go do stuff or showing up on the doorstep with then-girlfriend Kellie, a pizza and a video. Chushingura was, in the eyes of the man who will always be my yojimbo, supposed to distract me from my own troubles without reminding me of them. I honestly don't remember much of it from the first time around other than a blur of costumes and subtitles and oh, there goes Toshiro Mifune, I think, and James nudging the pizza box at me across the futon and Kellie falling asleep....
A revisit was well worth it, particularly after seeing Takashi Miike's 13 Assassins recently. Lengthy exposition (clocking in at 206 minutes)means having to hit pause for bathroom breaks and tea refills, but Inagaki's epic is beautiful to look at, the characters get to develop and become recognizable and win your sympathy (that is, when you're not moping over a broken heart) , and the final raid on Kira's compound is satisfying, though, having been filmed in 1963, less grisly than Assassins. A seppuku scene goes out of focus at the final stroke, another is shown in silhouette against shoji (though there is a sudden spray of blood against the paper). We don't see Kira lose his head and the 47's mass suicide is referred to in an epilogue over a scene of fluttering camp curtains. My particular favorite is the Asano vassal who allays suspicions of plotting by spending all this time in the red light district. Informed that his son has committed suicide for having accidentally killed a woman, he tells the girls his pet sparrow died and suggests they hold a wake for it. "Oh, you've caught me crying!" he says, showing them how he splashed water on his face, and splashes their faces to squeals of laughter, then covers his own face with his hand.
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no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 08:08 pm (UTC)That vase looks like it must be even more lovely in person.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 11:43 pm (UTC)If the length is daunting, Chushingura is divided into two narrative sections, "Blossoms" and "Snow."
no subject
Date: 2011-06-06 03:06 am (UTC)