The picture you see at the top of this blog is of the Shinkansen pulling into Nagoya Station. It was taken in my first week of Japan during my teacher’s training. It seems so long ago. Years, but a blink of the eye in any way you look upon it.

Memories, I am deluged by memories.
No, not memories. That bespeaks of stories. Maybe they are stories. But above all else they are sensations. Impressions. I float through life living impression by impression. It doesn’t matter if it’s a picture of a train on a humid summer’s day, far away in time and place (and what is time and place anyways?) or the bubbles that trail through a freshly poured glass of beer. It all builds and folds into each other.

That’s what I want to tell you. That’s why I can’t keep putting things into boxes. The train, the beer, the opening bars of a song, the silk cravat around the neck…

The winds have picked up tonight and gust strongly. They blow within and without.

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