Vessel Log: 2009 08 31

: festival preparations; roam from room to room, inspecting, commenting, saying ‘hello’; magazine mosaics of a kabuki actor, Vincent Van Gogh’s sunflowers Did you know he cut his ear off?, and a Magritte; an 1-nensei student approaches me with his file, asking me every question in the book; “Are you from America?” “What’s your favorite subject?”; even with his limited English we manage to find out a lot about each other, he likes science and finds English difficult but interesting; “English… study… hard… but… interesting.” Me too, I tell him. Studying Japanese is hard for me but I think it’s very interesting. We’re the same. And he like this analogy.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 30

: coming to into silence, a gray and ready, larval morning; the occasionally sweep from the front room curtains against the floor; Super Soya train into Sapporo, the one unreserved car overwhelmed; stuffy and difficult to breathe in the here; Lucinda Williams, "Words Fell"; book shopping, Junot Diaz: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Jao, Haruki Murakami: Underground, J.R.R. Tolkien: The Silmarillion, as well as some Japanese grammar books; a band festival or competition; school kids with brass instruments in matching track suits; a coffee while reading the Middle-Earth creation myth; a world developed out of music and vision; the raw food café is closed; record shops, clean and orderly, jazz LPs, American and British rock, have an urge for Peggy Lee; the spines remind me of used CD days; Korean, spicy pork; the cook and I chat about the books I bought; clothing stores, new slip-on Vans for school, a hobby and tobacco shop with Halloween masks and military paraphernalia in the windows; Pete’s Bar for a beer before heading home; run into E. on our bikes; back from welcome party, camping on Shikotsu-ko; a fluorescent and peach sunset; J. and I for soup curry.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 29

: transportation bookie; the freedom to make a plan and alter it; sweatshirt coach surfing reading Out with chilled socked feet; breeze through white curtains tunneling with fading sunlight; the final roar of megaphone vans; snaking through streets sending out their messages like bats; from far away they sound like frantic evacuation announcements; loud enough to be imagined as light; call J. to meet at Mos Burger for dinner; a bicycle parked in the middle of the sidewalk; we chat to exhaustion, to the point where I crave orange juice; 4 1/2 hours; lives we left back home - his in South Africa and mine in the US.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 28

: sunflower fields chopped down leaving behind felled stragglers; yellow heads with patchy petals; dense air, streets slick with rain; a 2-nensei boy has his head on his desk; crouch down next to him, snickers from students that surround him; Sleepy, huh? I ask. He stirs, returns my smile and says, “Yes.” Do you have your note(book)? If you write you will wake up, I lie; I always nod off studying into a notebook; He opens it and I tap his desk in Good Job code; roam from room to hallway to room; more newspapers; stencil art portraits of a Cambodian temple, a dragon, an autumnal river scene; “You look like Neville Longbottom!” a girl shouts; we shake hands, I get purple paint; the threat of a storm; grocery shopping for wine, chocopies, Australian beef; white corn, red pepper; housekeeping whirlwind; this night will be wine, The West Wing, and The Sopranos.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 27

: a testing day for 1-nensei and 2-nensei; I’m an American Idol judge, sitting in the back of 3-nensei’s rooms, listening to their recitation of A Mother’s Lullaby, a story about a tree present and reminiscing about the bombing of Hiroshima and a young girl and boy it sheltered; the boy who hid under a bridge has come back from a long truant absence; Where have you been? “Home,” he says. I’m happy you’re back; he’s lucky to have the foreign language instinct; lunchtime I get great news from SHAMPOO; after the bell, chalkboard instruct the pronunciation difference between “lives” the noun and “lives” the verb; I’m quick, peppering my instruction in Japanese which they enjoy; wandering room to room; poster-sized newspapers, hand-drawn graphics, the construction of models, a haunted house, a giant Anpanman; soba down the road; just J., H.-chan, and myself for Japanese class; H.-chan gives a lesson on local town name etymology; derived from the indigenous Ainu language.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 26

: swift, enchanting fall; B. approaches the bus stop dressed in black slacks and crisp white dress shirt; a female passenger in a passing car smirks with amusement; we part as I board the bus; L. wears sunglasses in the morning like E.; walking to school an elementary school kid trips, dropping his shoe; meet J. on my way to 7-11; plane tickets and such; cold ramen dinner; bike to the gym for yoga class; we’re in the kiddie room, primary color mats, stuffed animals, yellow plastic bricks shaped like Tetris; a wall is windows showcasing the gymnasium; high school boys play basketball and chuckle watching us pose, bend, and breathe.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 25

: day two of politicians at a blue-gray desk, speaking into the camera with cultish authority; behind them a woman fiercely striking her JSL poses; then, eerie choral music with film of glaciers, their colossal arches planted in thirst-inspiring blue ocean, a mourning vocal for the murder of Frost Caesar; refinding old writings and projects; Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac; bike-riding the moderate incline across route 12; we walk the mild evening to Bombay Blue; Sag Chicken curry, garlic naan; we might be done testing boundaries; when we first learned about sex – physiognomy, action, gender; is Shikotsu-ko in the future again; “I’d go up Mount Tarumae again if it wasn’t so cloudy.”; “Kind of like the Fairy Tooth Princess.”

Vessel Log: 2009 08 24

: like the first day of school; bejeweled sun, youthful wind, sentinel clouds; O-sensei shows me the wild raspberries growing on the edge of the forest by the bus stop; visited 2A and 2C for the first time in a while; reading their compositions; natsuyasumi stories about visiting relatives, catching frogs, running from wasps; You haven’t been here in a while, I say to a student who’s from Korea, maybe 6 months new and whose English is quite good. Where have you been? “Home,” he says. Well, I’m glad you’re back; sit with 3-nensei students, tearing up pieces of magazine for their mosaic; I work in yellow; three 3-nensei boys are holding a printout of a girl in a French maid outfit; Is that for your costume for the school festival? “Yes,” they say. “This is Japanese culture,” they laugh; they paint crinkled malleable paper and shape it into patterns; red, brown, yellow, blue; the plans I excitedly generate fall backward into mirages; sudden burst shower; dinner indecision; this apartment is awkward adolescent.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 23

: play card drinking games; escape to 7-11; riding back into the drive I spill on the gravel scraping parallel lines up my arm; “Where were you? What happened to your arm?”; not too much longer and I’m stricken with the urge to ride home; crash into a futon;

* * *

Asses the situation; this could be bad; blood stain on the bedsheet; breakfast of champions is frosted cornflake cereal and chocopies washed down with a sweet canned coffee; spaghetti; eating like a co-ed; iTunes geeking out, new playlists, sorting; waiting to watch Project Runway; A. and I ride to Seize the Day; afterwards we ride around town; up and down the streets we hear firework booms; we start for the train station; the sound is closer but nowhere near; see R. on his way home from Sapporo carrying Jupiter bags; stop in front of a barber shop; Kurt Cobain is the mascot for a haircutters union; talk about an I. zine; the frantic and polite voices of politicians over loudspeakers; we follow the sounds, a new game, of chase the candidates vans; waving red light sticks, swinging lanterns; they wave with white gloves while pontificating through the microphone, their voices ricochet off building faces; we follow the ghostly sound; near an ENEOS it catches us like a nightmarish sentinel, its bullhorn a weapon, its lights feverish; new drinking game – take a shot everytime someone cries on Project Runway.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 22

: dancing on the seats; the too sweet wine; she evolves into spasms or a conniption or a possession, shaking her head, resting on the newly separated gentleman; elevator down and up; pizza, fries, and edamame at Nat’s; the slow ambling home with A.; exhaustion infused limbs; quick shower before bed;

* * *

too early for this; systems check; slumming it; still sticks and furry knobs scattered on the carpet; good day to rearrange, clean and launder; grocery shopping is a struggle against chocopies and chicken consumme flavored potato chips; meet B. on the front lawn at 8:15; ride to Mos Burger and pick up two boxes of fried chicken; E.’s pot luck party is fried chicken, tortilla pizza, cucumber salad and lots of booze.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 21

: sunflower fields, use the train station skyway to cross the street; vice-principle meets me at the front door; classroom is wiry, bouncy, excitable; the castle game with elective students; M-sensei and I talk about the observed lesson for next month; brainstorming ideas; walk around the school; photo portraits of previous principles, PTA presidents; health posters that scare you into brushing your teeth; students paint a poster for their production of Dream Gate; sit down to chat until we’re too loud; intense sunshine for the afternoon; bread from the bakery; a quick nap before 6:30 dinner; our room is red tile with one corner a homestyle kitchen; meats and vegetables simmer in a shallow buttered pan over a gas grill; plastic pitchers of cold Asahi beer; Old Time’s Bar with the music teacher, art teacher and vice principle; meet A. and E. at Obar’s where they’re with two teachers of E.’s; proceed to karaoke where we steal L. away from her gathering.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 19

: here comes the rain again; opening ceremonies; new teacher, student teachers, students; a few noticeably absent desks; the small one arrives late, carrying his chair into the gymnasium, wearing a flashy red belt; “He didn’t finish his homework.”; saw him yesterday, dressed in loitering flannel, entering the train station with two friends; a hodgepodge dinner of bread from the bakery and an orange; Aki-chan picks me up for yoga; stretching, contorting the body, opening blocked passageways.

vessel Log: 2009 08 16

: cereal breakfast; R. and A. meet outside and we ride to the grocery store; it’s hot and sunny already; grilling meats, beer, tea, rice, potato chips; A. and I take a cab to Iwamizawa Park near Greenland; a small petting zoo; green grass, behind the roller coasters; there we see K., A., B., and E.; a day of lounging, grazing, talking or listening to others talk; met C. and his wife for the first; a gentle river, a wood and sunbleached obstacle course; amateur painter trees dotting the hill; we cab back early; another day to let it be.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 15

: Korean soju and a cap flicking game; I knock it out of the park and chug 3 shots mixed with lemonade; round the table it goes; a girl with a perm, yellow t-shirt, and black suspenders; the thin and small boy who keeps saying she’s his girlfriend; tall guy works there, wears a white towel on his head, looks familiar, sits next to me; afterwards, we join Obar’s 30; B. hands me a Red Stripe; a hookah, dancing, T. looks confused; E., T. and I make it outside, the light is gray, it’s morning; on my bike I’m saying goodbye; A. left her bag in the izakaya, the cook took her there; riding home I realize I have the freedom to go to McDonald’s if I want; wait the fifteen minutes for breakfast to start; at home, eating a sausage and egg McGriddle, hash brown and coffee I watch an episode of Weeds;

* * *

: not feeling too bad; head to the grocery store for needed supplies; send E. a text, “Did you go/Are you going to Kitamura today?”; lounge around; A. wants soup curry which sounds fabulous to me; it doesn’t open for another hour; we ride around town, stopping at the art gallery, sitting at the fountain outside Ginza Pachinko; the soup hits well; bike soft cream to the cultural center and wait as the sun peels down; the sky a range of bruising colors; yellow, silver, white, blue, pink and purple; talk about her return from Canada, flash mob synchronized dancing; I walk down wooden steps that lead to the river; “This space was meant to be used.”; the rest of the night resting, watching program after program.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 14

: just Kyoutou and Kouchou sensei today; a little like being watched by someone else’s grandparents; kyoutou-sensei asked me if I’d eaten any ice cream or drank any tea yet; sat alone in the teacher’s room, laughing with the “I’m All Like” script; curry at Bombay Blue; a stopover at Tsutaya for a few CDs; house climbs gradations of destroyed; sticks and twigs and pussywillow paws; sushi for dinner followed by a stop at MisDo; A. meets us at Thriller; big hugs; buy menthol cigarettes after running across the street in my sandals; many songs; we all go crazy with “Tubthumping” and “Paper Planes”; bike ride downtown; some of A.’s friends, join us at an izakaya; drinking games and sake bombs.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 13

: welcoming rain; streets are car busy, the office is quiet; today is Obon; cars pull into the cemetery, the office is empty; Kyoutou-sensei shows me the contents of the refrigerator; “Please eat and drink.”; there is iced tea, Aquarius, jellies and ice cream; walk to an omuraisu restaurant; country-style, TV news the rotating clips of a Japanese celebrity caught with MDMA after a girl overdosed; a man smoking at the counter; the automatic doors are decorated in lattice; omuraisu – ketchup flavored rice wrapped in a layer of scrambled egg on a pool of beef curry sauce lightly lined with mayonnaise, on the side – a small cabbage salad flavored with a sesame dressing and a mug of chicken consommé; contemplate a trip to Tsutaya before heading home; download new St. Vincent album and an Indigo Girls album from emusic; is this new subscription model worth it?; I tire easily reading the complaints in their forums; Out on my chest, the door bell rings, the electric man is here but I stay on the couch with my eyes closed; dinner is a contest; ride to Seicomart and get myself a point card; finish the remaining thrilling though predictable episodes of Harper’s Island.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 12

: workers lay black pebbles and stone; deliver it with a purple dump-truck, lay it with an orange distributor-truck, smooth it with yellow rollers, and patch it with a turquoise shovel-truck; an older woman in a kitchen’s apron clears the excess with a metal shovel; rinse, wash, repeat; lunch in the park near the red bridge; the subtle differences are wrinkles; two boys circle the pond with a skyblue net and a PET bottle; the silver blanket protects us from the Perseids like it did with the eclipse; two earthquakes in two days; the woman, the “girl-next-door”, the one in possession of illegal amphetamines and was on the run is always on TV, the same interview from earlier this month; Duffy: RockFerry; yoga is evidence that I have no connection to my body; A.-chan gives me a ride home; comes in to see the cat; we watch her emasculate the akai teru teru bouzu; “It is dangerous to go to the ocean during Obon. It is said spirits reside their and pull the living in.” Do people go to the ocean anyway? “Yes, but if I have friends who go to the ocean during Obon I warn them. I know people who have died in the ocean during Obon.”; the floor littered with red thread, bits of branch and pussy-willow.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 11

: long row of glaring bicycles, like knives in sheaths; E. got engaged in Las Vegas by the Bellagio fountains, mom sent a text; S.’s movie scene involving JB’s makes me laugh; back in the wooden room, reciting lines from A Mothers’ Lullaby, The Hungry Lion, Can Anyone Hear Me, A Magic Box, and Freddie The Leaf; T.-sensei and T.-sensei and I have lunch at a neighborhood restaurant; tonkatsu; T. gives me some omiyage she got from her trip to Tokyo, postcard of an Edo era print from found artwork in Greece, a pack of kabuki performer print cards, and a bottle of organic olive oil as a birthday present; sweating through a new shirt; grocery basket the recommended color assortment; it clings to the curtains, climbing them with grappling claws.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 10

: cold ramen lunch from 7-11; walk the purple ramp into the garden park I’ve walked by a hundred times; red footbridge, water lilies, cigarette filters stamped into gray gravel; water segregated by rock and boulder irrigation; vacuum the ripped and torn shreds of a willow branches; suddenly it doesn’t feel as crowded.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 09

: a refrigerator of condiments, champagne, sliced bread, and sake; passive aggressive notes has me worried about a note that’s an invitation and nowhere near passive aggressive; like beer bust but not; trains and accents, unintentional aphrodisiacs; slow stroll towards the park, iced coffee in hand; gots me red hat and sunglasses on; each block sectioned off for a major beer company; Suntory, Asahi, Kirin, Sapporo; we gather with a mini-keg, order okonomiyaki, edamame, yakisoba, etc; air thick with heat; the man who sings mellow gold; J., T. and I peruse Uni Qlo and Right On; “You’re really fast at changing pants”; why is it always the ones you want that never have your size?; the three of us for Seize the Day; a karai bump; feels like I’m looking at the clock wrong.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 08

: I look for my wallet out in the bike shed in my underwear;

* * *

cottonmouth; could’ve been a beer garden afternoon but I think I could sleep more; eggs and toast; even the cat won’t eat the processed fish semi-circle found in the 7-11 soba container; hot as; photos and flickr; playing catch up; Mos Burger for dinner; the cool evening; busloads of school girls leave the cultural center; squeals and laughter; a Takikawa bus rides by, some stand and they’re all eating; rewatch Citizen Ruth; the neighbors BBQ after midnight.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 07

: moths, their wings, dragonflies, bees motionless on the tar; carried away by janitorial ants; spiders the size of guilt if you were to murder them; heat and glare; walk the distance to Bombay Blue for lunch; pleasurable heat of a curry meal; walk the distance back through an archaeological drive and parking lot; 30 degrees now means hot instead of frigid; stop by city hall on my way home; omiyage for the office, squid-ink chocolate; a chat with J. about her back, etc; coated in shine; an early evening shower before the 5:56 express; meet T. in front of Daimaru; three stops too many on the subway; as the sun sets, the breeze picks up; this side of town is seagull territory, I wonder if the crows know this; K. in front of the shop; we’re given a small bag with a child’s drawing on the flap; a 2 hour lecture with short video and pictures about a small village in Cambodia, the building of a school and animism; not the izakaya and beer we were promised; scoff an onigiri in the 7-11 parking lot; meet L., T., and E. at Tlida; Hisashiburi!; then to a chain izakaya; since last month it’s been completely redesigned; no longer open and cruiseable; then karaoke at the box.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 06

: the 64th anniversary of the bombing at Hiroshima; on TV a young boy and girl take turns orating a memorized speech; is everyone wearing white?; camera view of the wrecked dome and piles of brick; yellow flowers and Aso-sama bowing before an archway; just make the train; assist students with pre-recitation contest for a school mini competition; F.-sensei and I talk about Hiroshima, how it is or isn’t taught in Japan and America; riding home a group of high school boys, tan on bikes, say hello; one of whom was maybe a former student but his hair is shaved and much thinner; tell B. about soup curry at Goyen; hot sunlight, movie trailers, folding laundry, washing dishes; the floor is littered in litter, dry cat food; conversation is loud; table for six is a table for eight; a prelude to the coming year.

Vessel Log: 2009 08 05

: this one is for the bird; popped against the school’s window; a ball of fluttering black and white feathers; vice-principle brings water to shock it back to flight; a drop on the fragile skull; its mouth open, panting, blinking eyelids; a curled and retracted twiggy leg; kowaiiso; we kill the flies and save the birds; read about Antony, eating lunch (salad, onigiri); Tonda, N.-sensei announces; the bird flies toward the windows; resting on a sill, staring inside, its mouth gaped open, its wings beating;

"As I was raised Catholic, I was raised with a very rigid sense of what had spiritual content, of what was valuable. Human beings had soul. The Earth didn't. This place was a holding cell for people to figure out their spirit value," says Antony. "There was this whole idea that we had separated from nature. I think that's all fallen down for me. As I've gotten older, I've returned more and more to my environment." – Antony Hegarty, August 4, 2009, article by Grayson Currin;

the stop motion animation of small and mid-sized shovel trucks; kinjiki, forbidden colors; the man with a farmers’ tan at the eyebrows; apples, Out, a nap under curtained window; meet B., the new neighbor; I worry about R.'s cat being seen; we walk to soba; the owner gives me box of canned coffee drinks as a thank you.