A 40-week Project: VII

Dear child,

How are you? Have you been enjoying your small habitat in my belly?

You have been a popular topic whenever I go these days, no matter it is an academic occasion or a work place. I remember a passage about the heroine's pregnancy in Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake, in which the heroine, an Indian immigrant who has just settled down in New York, suddenly finds the entire world smiling at her because of her newborn. It didn't make any particular impression on me when I read the episode for the first time; however, it seems to explain exactly what has happened to me these days.

A 40-week Project: VI

Last month after I entered the sixth month of pregnancy, my parents-in-law took us to Suitengu.

In Japan, when expecting mothers are half-way through their pregnancy, they would visit shrines on a day called the day of canine (usually twice a month at a 12-day interval) in order to pray for safe delivery and a healthy newborn.

A 40-week Project: V

I haven't updated about the progress of this growing project in my belly for some time. There have been many things deserving to be written down, especially some cultural shocks that I haven't thought of in terms of the concept of motherhood.

A 40-week Project: IV

In a dinner party last Friday, I happened to eat some delicious raw seafood, which I had been reminding myself to avoid since my pregnancy began. I was not ready to divulge my cause yet, so I, probably, took the liberty to enjoy the delicacy.

A 40-week Project: II

I understand very well that I am way too sober and still resistant to acknowledge any possible joy this project means to people in general. However, despite all biological changes that are taking place in me now, I still want to be in control of myself and still fear of intensive attention (from my own parents, for instance). Sometimes, I wonder if the new life in me would feel very lonely since both K and I are still somehow detached.

A 40-week Project: I

19/July/2014 (Sat)

We visited a local gynaecological centre for the first time on the 19th to begin a 40-week project. By now the small life has already settled down in me for more than 8 weeks. I thought that I should keep some record during this long and patient process, but there is no guarantee of feelings of excitement in my future writings, as readers of my blog would know that I am quite incapable of expressing elated emotion in general.

Gardening in Spring, 2014 (IV): Hydrangea

Finally after almost 3 years since it was introduced to the garden, our hydrangea is going to bloom this year.

It has been a anxiety-making process since the first flower buds were discovered beneath folded leaves in early May. I started to look for information regarding the ways in which to ensure its blossoms. Many days were spent worrying about slight signs of invasion of insects; many more days were wasted on wondering if my home-concocted insecticide would damage those flourishing mopheads.

In the end, despite all my concerns, they seem all managed to emerge from their leafy cradles and get ready for their time: the rainy season.

Our hydrangea is supposed to yield flowers of the colour of lazurite. However, given that the colour of hydrangea is determined by the pH of soil, and that it has been 3 years since its arrival, I do not know what shade I should expect this year. No discrimination against other colours though. Yet, I still think the colour of lazurite gives a mysterious and regal look, while others seem too amicable. Therefore, after all the worries regarding whether it would bloom or not, my new anxiety is as to what shade the flowers would be. (Will there be an end???!!!) Some research on the Internet told me that the level of acidity in the soil has to be reduced; therefore, I started covering the ground around its root with used ground coffee and tea leaves, which are expected to balance the pH level.

Today, I spotted an almost invisible tint of blue at the edge of one of the greenish white petals, a diluted shade which my camera is doomed to miss, and which is very likely undetectable to others.

Fingers crossed for lazurite blue.

Update on 4/June/2014

The mopheads are growing under unexpected heat before the rainy season, which is bound to start tomorrow. The shade of the petals is changing everyday, and excitingly the colour of blue seems to be emerging!

Update on 10 June, 2014

The photo was taken on the third day of the rainy season, which kicked off with a quite unbelievable pour.  Regrettably, the mopheads look very pale with only a very light tinge of blue and purple on some edges of petals. Yet, I am already very grateful to the blossoms.

Gardening before Rainy Season 2014 (V): Lavender

Quietly lavenders have also joined the ensemble in the garden. They smell wonderfully sweet as everybody knows. The shade of lavender looks best in early dawn, when the air is still moist and somehow grey. Strong sun beam easily discolours their soft tone and disables camera to see it.





Update on 8 June, 2014

It has been pouring since the day before yesterday when the rainy season officially kicked off. Many of the lavenders have been bent by the heavy rain. I rescued some of them to be displayed in a newly-adopted flower vase.

Gardening in Spring, 2014 (III)

The front yard

Distant Drums and California Poppies

Compliments from passers-by these days really flattered my vanity.
I have heard that parents who helplessly admire their own babies for no reason are considered foolish. I guess, along with this logic, I would be a foolishly infatuated gardener.

Poppies and Roses are blooming at their peak despite the howling wind of printemp in Japan.

Corn Poppies

 This is the first corn poppy in the yard. There is a long story about the ways in which I simply uprooted all of its sprouts imagining that they would be invasive weeds. Thanks to my poor vision though, some have survived my destructive hands, and now it is blooming like beautiful a red saucer.

The Blue Moon

Voluminous, gently coloured and fragrant are the Blue Moon. I sometimes wonder how I would count roses, since that the blossoms are as big as one's palm. Perhaps, a head of rose?

Gardening in Spring, 2014 (II)

Here is a collection of roses this year. In general, they are doing pretty well compared with last year. Royal sunset and distant drums have probably adapted themselves to their new home well enough to produce very healthy-looking flowers.

While the distant drum is shorter in build, the royal sunset winds its way to the top of a spire that is fixed on the ground. 

Royal Sunset

Distant Drums

Our blue moon is an old friend in the garden. It has never failed to amaze us over the past three years; however, after its first blossom last week, the following flowers, though abundant in quantity, look smaller in size.

I was unable to cut back one main stem of the blue moon last winter, and now, despite that it still manages to pride itself on carrying more than a handful of buds, it seems to be too tall to balance the bush.

The Blue Moon

Garden in Spring, 2014 (I)

Our garden has been blooming all the way since March after a frosty February. Exciting!

I have unknowingly developed this strange anxiety about posting photos of flowers on fb, worrying that I would be bombarding others with my personal hobby. In the end, photos of, for instance, babies are definitely more inviting and exciting. Therefore, for the time being, I would grow my private interest here instead.

I sometimes felt funny that when the public side of the self gets too much publicized, there is a tendency in me to privatize it.

In a Christmas party last year, a neighbour said that he always saw me in the garden. I understood that he meant no harm; however, it is difficult for me to take it as a compliment, given that most adult females in this neighbourhood are young mothers preoccupied with their toddlers. I have been feeling a certain degree of pressure on childless couple, who have had too much time to spend on plants. (I do believe, however, I would never abandon the lives in the garden even if there are other lives in the household.)

Comparatively, I believe, I made much less efforts in my garden than the years before. Apart from giving regular fertilizer and water last winter, I did minimum. However, when the first sign of life showed up in spring, this obsession with the vegetable matter was duly awakened.  

Here are some of this year's highlights.

Baby's breath spirea in March, 2014

Tulips in April, 2014

Tulips in April, 2014 

Flower buds of peony in April 2014

Peonies in late April, 2014

Poppies of different kinds from late April

A close-up of the front yard crowded with peonies, pansies and a purple ground cover in the back, since late April

Poppies may sound like a cheap choice in a garden, but they are one of my favourites every year. They are very colourful, resilient and simple. And most of all, they remind me of the four years I spent in another country.

What would come next is no less exciting, and, truely, I have never been so looking forward to rainy season in Japan. After two years' bareness, the hydrangea has finally produced some flower buds.

Exhibition: The Beautiful: Art for Art's Sake: The Aesthetic Movement from 1860-1900

Bruce James Talbert, Design for 'The Sunflower' Wallpaper, 1878
V&A, London

We visited an exhibition on the aesthetic movement from 1860-1900 in Mitsubishi Museum, Tokyo.

The style of the late Raphaelite was once my favourite when I was a teen. It was the elaborate and dream-like ambiance that fascinated me. As I have grown more critical, these works of art no longer mesmerise me, but they are still beautiful to look at.

This design for 'The Sunflower' wallpaper is something that has stayed in my mind since the visit. I remember I used to like painting sunflowers, of which the circular arrangement of petals and elongated stems were what I never grew tired of drawing.

Two Holiday Guests

We are having two gold fish holidaying in our house at the moment during the 10-day absence of their masters.

It is the first time for us to keep pets in the house, and it has been unexpectedly entertaining. They are two creatures which have quite a personality. Being voiceless does not mean that they don't show much emotion. Whenever the bottle of fish food is lifted from a nearby table or carelessly passed across in front of them, they would get extraordinarily stirred. They would open wide their mouths as if they are mumbling a silent protest if nothing ends up in the aquarium.

They also follow human beings' movement unbelievably well. Whenever somebody is near to the small tank, they would immediately crowd to a certain corner to seek attention. Exactly like pet dogs to a certain degree. Occasionally, they become small audiences to watch me dancing aerobics in the room.

Sometimes they would peck at each other, but no serious crime has been committed so far. They also suck up stones and throw them up afterwards to look for more food. Additionally, we were both quite surprised to know that they two would actually, probably by accident, move around the decorative seaweed and miniature bridge. One morning, I found them dislocated and scattered in separate corners.

While we pet them, they also seem to pet a dummy fish in the aquarium. The plastic yellow fish usually rests motionless on the bed of the tank, but it swims around following the water flow caused by the the two gold fish. Sometimes, the two gold masters would go to peck at the yellow object to make it move.

I have the impression that gold fish or carp in outdoor ponds are quite voracious, but I have never thought that pet fish would be as animated as the drama that our two guests create everyday.

A friend once told me that her husband would spend hours watching his aquarium after work everyday. Now I have started to understand the feeling. In the end, life in an aquarium can be quite a theatrical piece, especially when they know there is an audience out there.

Some conspiracy is going on here...

Exhibition: Flowers in Bloom: the Culture of Gardening in Edo

This is an overdue entry regarding an exhibition on the art of gardening in Edo-period Tokyo last year (July 2013): Flowers in Bloom: the Culture of Gardening in Edo. 

It is not a theme popular among young people in Japan, and the relatively young Edo-Tokyo Museum hasn't claimed its importance on the map of tourism of Tokyo. I was then blessed with a quiet morning in leisure with my Korean friend at the exhibition. 

The exhibition showed the ways in which gardening and the passion for plants were a fashion in Tokyo during the Edo period. It was part of the Samurai culture to love and grow plants, and later on the zeal reached out to the general public. 

Unfortunately now I cannot recall much about the exhibition in details. Below are some images that I really love. 

歌川貞秀 亜墨利加之商人小樹之桜を求めて大に歓喜之図

This is a portrait of an American merchant who is said to be overjoyed with his new acquisition of a cherry tree. The image of the lady on top left was probably the one to whom the cherry tree was to be presented. 

歌川国芳 百種接分苗 

Chrysanthemum is the national flower of Japan, and certainly it also created frenzies of adoration during the Edo period. This image shows grafted chrysanthemums blooming in all sorts of colours on one single trunk. Chrysanthemum-viewing events like this are still widely enjoyed in autumn these days. 

戸田熊次郎/序 狩野素川(勝波方信凌雲斎)/画 久留米藩士 江戸勤番長屋絵巻(粉本)

戸田熊次郎/序 狩野素川(勝波方信凌雲斎)/画 久留米藩士 江戸勤番長屋絵巻(粉本)

The two images above show two samurais growing plants in their respective dormitory rooms. Even if the rooms were only small cubicles, it is amazing that their occupants still managed to create a small patch dedicated to gardening, on which they meditate and cultivate the green. In both of the images, one of the common plants is morning glory. Apparently, morning glory was extremely popular at the time. The popularity of that flower can be seen in the image below, too. 

歌川国芳／五行之内 朝顔の土性／個人蔵

Toothbrush was an indispensable element in the depiction of blooming morning glories in woodcuts. Morning would be the time for early-risers and for people to groom before a day. Some other images in the exhibition showed a lady looking into a mirror to wear makeup (to prepare her face) with a morning glory in the background. The everyday-ness of the combination of the elements is intriguing. The love for flowers, for garden, and more generally for nature is considered inseparable from one's everyday life. It feels as if the first thing one would do before a day's routine is to check on his garden. It is also amusing to toss the idea, which is suggested by the motif, that one should prepare a 'morning face' (朝顔), the name of morning glory in Japanese.

歌川広重　東都名所　上野不忍蓮池

One of the motifs of Edo-period woodcuts is the depiction of sightseeing spots in Tokyo. The lotus pond in the image is Ueno park, still a must-see nowadays when people visit Japan. 

 三代歌川豊国　向ふ島の夜桜

Night-viewing of cherry-blossoms is a total soul-cleansing event. Here I particularly like the colour of lapis lazuli for the kimono and the inky trunk of the cherry tree. 

松亭金水[十返舎十九]/題 歌川広重(初代・二代)/画　絵本江戸土産 第4編　小金井の桜

The cherry blossoms in Koganei city, where I live, has been a hot spot since the Edo period. I do not know to which direction Mt. Fuji will be seen though. However, Koganei park still maintains its fame and commands its authority during hanami season now. 

葛飾北齋 菊図

This is another depiction of chrysanthemums blooming like fireworks on summer nights. 

Source

The triptych here shows a flower-vending space. The three images respectively represent flowers in different seasons. I am fond of flowers but not leaves; however, foliage was the most valuable and prestigious possession a real expert would appreciate in the Edo period. A large percentage of the plants on display on the shelf are leaves. According to some manuals for horticulturists in the Edo period, spotty leaves rather than simple green foliage were more likely to be the gems in the market. For instance, leaves with white stripes or spots of other colours were more pricy than anything else. If my memory does not fail me, I remember they even had charts illustrating the hierarchy of the values of leaves.

Source

I like some components contributing to this triptych. It also depicts a florist, but it sells fish and fishing tools (?) at the same time. The central image has some baskets of fish in the background, and in the first image on the left, the white-and-blue-checked shelf stores some braided baskets on the top. Inside the baskets are worms for sale, possibly, to be used as baits. I don't know if these two businesses are still closely related in modern days, but I found amusing the ecological concept behind the mixture of the two activities: gardening and fishing. 

Funerals and Weddings

Having been informed that it would be only a small event for colleagues and friends in relation to the career of the deceased, I gave up the idea of attending the memorial gathering for him.

He passed away last October, a distressing loss to people around him. I did not know him well, but he interviewed me for a job, and although we did not see each other often after that, I had always thought that he was a respectable acquaintance.

I was upset when being denied my condolence in person, but it does not bother me any more. No matter how much one minds, nothing will change the fact of death.

My dismay did not result from the absence of an invitation, perhaps. It was probably a more selfish reason that I felt strongly being prevented from showing my gratitude and sending my heart. So it was perhaps more about the living rather than the dead in this case.

A friend of mine believes that invitations to occasions, such as weddings, are a testament to friendship. Is this thought applicable to the understanding of the significance of a funeral note? Perhaps not, given that the deceased is no longer in charge of the guest list for his own party. I do not believe in the analogy between invitation and friendship, as there are many indeterminable factors to complicate the issue. Funerals and weddings are supposed to be occasions, I think, where a relationship is re-established or created between hosts and guests.

Interestingly, funerals and weddings have become an issue on which I muse since then. Having been living away from my hometown for half of my life now, I have missed many weddings and some funerals. Geographical distance has been the main hindrance. Although I do not necessarily believe in the importance of these rituals, I cannot help but feel lost many times. I think that wedding is the last chance for friends to be just friends before they go on separate ways to make their respective families; funeral is another last (already too late) opportunity before an extant relationship falls apart gradually. I have no objection to the value of family or to the natural development for human beings to peel off from their shared life and to march on their due course. Therefore, such moment proves to be significant in the sense that one has to say goodbye to his foregone past. These occasions help to nurture a self-acknowledge of what is lost and a preparation for what it will become in the future.

On the one hand, I am probably blessed with the fact that I am always far away to be exempted from the formalities all these customs would involve; on the other, I feel inevitably deprived of a sense of belonging in a social surrounding in which there is no custom to oblige me.

Without these rites de passage, existence feels innocent and somehow weightless. 

BBC Mini Series: North and South

The other day we watched a BBC costume drama, North and South, a 2004 TV adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel. 

I have owned the DVD for a couple of years, which was bought together with another BBC period drama, Cranford. At that time, I was unaware of either Gaskell the author or her work.

I still haven’t read the original of North and South but have heard that the TV adaptation is quite faithful to the written story. The drama itself is worth watching for its romance, social concerns, its first-class acting, great chemistry between the main actors and atmosphere-creating cinematography.   

The story takes place in England in the nineteenth-century when English society was divided between its industrial north and the middle-class south. A young lady, Margaret Hale, moves to Milton with her middle-class family from a southern town, Helston; she then struggles to overcome her shock at the ruthlessness of the northern culture, learns to adapt herself to appreciating the working-class environ, gets to speak her social conscience aloud, and falls in love with a mill owner, John Thornton.

In the first episode of the serial, there is one scene that struck me. One day after the Hales have just moved to Milton, Margaret takes her routine stroll through the town. Descending a long staircase in a deprived area, she is suddenly crowded out of the main path by a group of workers who have just rushed out of mills for a break. Her distinctive beauty makes her a ready target for ridicule. Some of them start to tease her though without any obvious intent to harm, but the approach terrifies her. Higgins, one of the workers, comes to her rescue and escorts her to pass through the crowd. Showing gratitude, Margaret offers a coin to Higgins, who, however, replies instead ‘no charge, miss.’ 

The brief encounter reminds me of an incident during my stay in England. I used to share a rented house with friends. In one winter, the boiler of the house was in a terrible shape; it would stop functioning up to 3 or 4 times within a short span of one shower. Technicians were called in several times to no avail. The landowner was reluctant to replace the boiler, as it was costly. One day, another technician was contacted to check on the boiler again after another disastrous night. He informed me that scales had already piled up in the pipes and left very small space for water to go through, and the boiler would simply cease working if water pressure got low. He suggested that the best solution was a replacement given that the old boiler had already toiled for some good years. I phoned the landlady to explain the situation, but she remained unwilling and doubtful. I remember my language faltered as I did not understand much about the problem myself, and I also lacked the verbal ability to argue and persuade. I must have sounded even worse in a language that is not my mother tongue. The technician probably had heard my struggle and offered to take over the negotiation. In the end, the landlady made a concession to our favour. 

My personal experience is an issue complicated with multiple layers of differences between landlords and tenants, between blue collar and white collar, between the foreign and the native. While I was trapped in my own awkwardness when faced with these gaps, the one who helped me solve the problem was a total stranger, someone who had the least to do with the trouble. The landlady, however, who had the legal responsibility to offer comfort of accommodation, was reluctant to offer any assistance that might result in further expense.

My personal note and the fictional episode might not seem to have any obvious connection, but they together offer some elements for thoughts, I think. The contrastive views on money are employed to denote class differences in an interesting way. Those who are economically advantaged have the tendency of measuring human relationships in monetary terms. On the one hand, they are brought up to believe that money can solve problems and, on the other hand, they are also taught to expect that people who are economically inferior would always crave material return. The centrality of money here deprives a social being of the faith in innocent kindness and inculcates instead a false principal according to which everything can be, and should be, evaluated by its material worth.   

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As I have said, the serial of North and South was a pleasant watch. The leading actors, Richard Armitage as John Thornton and Daniela Denby-Ashe as Margaret Hale, were extremely charming, and they created such great chemistry in their performance. It is really difficult to take eyes away from the lovely couple. Armitage is definitely a rare gem in many aspects as an actor, let alone his beautiful look (!). He also played Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the dwarves, in Peter Jackson’s new trilogy of The Hobbit.

The setup of the ending in the drama is slightly different from that of the book, but I do prefer the television version. A banal happy ending in print was transformed into a very romantic and magical moment, which would definitely tickle every single viewer. To use Armitage’s own comment on this favourite scene of his, ‘it is a nice way to spend an afternoon.’