I've thought of many ways and rewritten this blog entry many times to capture what celebratory essence was liberated today in us for you to read...and thrown it all away again and again. It's a frustration.
Women in my family don't complain, so let's immediately throw away any presupposed images of Gabi whining or sulking throughout the day about leaving her twenties behind. There was none of that.
Instead, her thirtieth birthday (given as a whole to be the entirety of our time in Japan, taken specifically as this her day of birth) was fun and much enjoyed rather than feared. No need to play it cute and turn thirty "again," next year.
Today's mission: treat her to everything, and say yes to anything.
You know, we didn't plan this trip further than cycling torwards things we wanted to see and do in a gerneral direction, so I was not entirely sure where or how we would actually celebrate today. Turns out, if you live life in that way long enough, everything falls succinctly into place.
So many things to do over the day that we completely missed this other, red, pumpkin. I only had time for this quick snap as we boarded the ferry back to Takamatsu.
Lunch consisted of the best Udon I have ever had. It wasn't just the taste that had me. Hand made noodles that can be told apart from those machine cut strings of dough by the natural inconsistency in length and straightness, a select your own cart of tempura sides including all varieties of shrimp and eggplant and other delights, and a dark brown broth so filled with spices and herbs that it left me yearning for seconds though I was filled to the brim.
This first house was small and nothing spectacular. Simple, it is a nice remodeling of a classic two room Japanese home with a small one tree yard. The intentional use of burnt wood in the external paneling did make up for the home's lack of charm, little else did.
Second house was larger, with a bathroom mural tall enough to realistically illustrate a three walled scenery of an impressive waterfall. Must have been lovey when put into use.
This third house was the most artsy. As you can see from the outside, it's curators have no issue with standing part from the other houses on this block. Inside is an all black room, an ocean themed bedroom, and a giant indoor two storied replica of the Staue of Liberty, painted white, highlighted with pink neon. Yes.
This house is my favorite. It remains the most interactive of all the art houses. Design by Turrell. You wait outside in the sun for fifteen minutes to let the ones already inside have their go. Then, you and everyone in your ten to fifteen person group are aligned in single file along the side of the entrance. The one in front (me) is guided into an immediate dark space. The others follow. One hand touching the wall to my right, I followed whispers of "this way," spoken by the guide. Through the maze, designed without a doubt to be the most effective way to keep light from following us, we felt for a bench at our knees and took a seat in absolute pitch black darkness. Then, we waited. We waited as something grew into focus, something of a white fuzzy box. In reality, it was our eyes. Our eyes needed adjusting from the outside sunlight to the blackout within. What we saw as white fuzz only slowly turns out to be another whole white, empty room staring back at you. The adjustment period is the effect and the point of the dark roomed exhibit, I don't think any words can describe the slowly coming into focus of what is something you are never completely sure of, not even in the end. The time you spend with yourself through the adjustment period makes the piece personal, and hence one of my favorites. The whole process takes about fifteen minutes.
The last stop, a shrine. Check out those glass stairs leading up to the main room in the back.
Further up the road from the temple is this building. Not open for the public to wonder around in, though enjoyable to look at from afar.
Another side of the hill top building.
That's exactly how we ended up here: Naoshima. It's one of many islands between Takamatsu and the initial route we made out of Osaka that we have been circling around back to. The island itself is dedicated to artists, filled with museums, outdoor works of art, and spots to stop and ponder whether life influences art, or art, life. A perfect spot, I say, to spend a day with 'ol sis.
In the wild, yellow and black reptiles and insects usually means "stay back, and don't eat me unless you want to be poisoned." But on fruit, all it makes me want to do is take a big 'ol bite out of it and let the juice wash down my chin.
Huge, and yet small enough to fit in your hand.
Gabi had many birthday lovers on the island from stray cats to vending machines. No judgements!
I mentioned that there are many museums on the island, including one or two underground that we walked into. The Benesse museum of art is my favorite of these, although like most, we weren't allowed pictures.
Still, I can say that Hockneys, Pollocks, R. Longs, and even Warhols ornamented the walls here; the walls themselves that are in fact part of the exhibition. On purpose, little manicured green weeds sprout from inbetween the two by one metered rectangular grey cement slabs of stone studded with four bolts each. The slabs, resembling a child's building toy set, built a fine three story museum and are the design and plan of the self taught architecture student turned master. The entire three floors effortlessly offer themselves in contrast to the more vivid and bright themes and colors portrayed by the artists.
After our fill of fine art had been reached, we participated in a small scavenger hunt that kept us busy for a few hours. Scattered around the island neighborhood are six "art houses" (that we were, again, not allowed to take pictures in) to find and walk through for enjoyment.
This second to last house was special, as sister mentioned, she had seen a similar display of this work (by the same artist) in Denver. The center room in this wooden house is carved out and replaced with a peacefully still square pond, lined with a wooden walkway along it's fringe for people to observe from. The still water never moved. Underneath, or immediately above the surface, little digital waterproof dials in all colors counted off numbers 0 through 9 and back over again. Some counters were brighter than others, all were either red, blue, yellow or green, a few counted at a faster rate, three counted painfully slow. The scene as a whole resembled looking into a starry night compiled of digital countdowns; a pond of twinkling tranquilly spotted with a reminder of time and expenditure. Color me impressed.
Down the alley way where more paths that led to different areas in the grounds.
Finally, after we had washed, rinsed, and repeated, I felt new again. And the nice, clean set of clothes I packed made us feel sharp like a new tuxedo. Crisp on this new keen state of mind and debonair demeanor, there was really only one thing left to do. Visit the James Bond museum.
Goldfinger
The Living Daylights
Alas, the last ship back to the island, our hotel, and all our belongings was fit to leave and we had to board her; to leave Naoshima, but not necessarily call it a day.
Back on the main island, we stayed at the Toyoko Inn which we are now very familiar with. Although we know they will have breakfast ready for us in just a few hours, and despite the home made lunch still lingerd in our bellys, second dinner, like all good birthdays with sis, is going to involve a little sushi.
And now the day is over and we are exhausted. Could not pack more into the day if we tried. Sleepy, and with good reason, I type these last words before falling asleep again knowing that although the day is over, we still look forward to the last third of this trip! A run to the famouse city of Kyoto is in our sights. If all goes according to a our indolent plans, we should arrive shortly.
All the Best,
-A
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