stuffed animals and realism

Recently I've been applauding myself for getting work done in my independent studies, but I think that I've gone astray in my praise. Tonight I sat down and read four chapters in Introduction to Zen Buddhism, which has proved to be…ahem…enlightening… and three chapters in Quaker Education in Theory and Practice, which, believe it or not, I am reading for fun and to better understand how a meeting for business ought to function in an educational community. I also typed up my notes to Simple Guide to Shinto, but that's where I realized where I have been going wrong. When I read literature for any of my English classes, I don't tend to take notes (or highlight the text, which may be a poor decision), but when I try to read things for my study in Eastern religions and philosophies, I take tons of notes. I mean, I'm overdoing it. And that is why I think I'm a lot further behind than I would like to be. On the plus side, I found several other good books today to help with my literary studies, though with the center cleaning project tomorrow and Behind the Mask on Thursday, I doubt I'll have much pleasure time tomorrow night.

Anyhow, beyond the boring topic of academics, today was a really beautiful, moment filled day. I had envisioned myself getting a haircut today after biking into town, yet for some reason, probably because of the rainy weather, I have decided to put that off until either Thursday (if I wake up early enough) or Friday. Instead, I came home and completed some reading. For some reason, I chose to go to the window to see what the great outdoors looked like when I was confronted by two crows atop of the roof next door. I watched them for a while and drew from it a poem which I am actually extraordinarily satisfied with. It has broken my recent theme of bashing my inability to rhyme and self discovery. I suppose these are important themes, but at the same time, I belive that poetry should be a reflection of the external beauty of the world as it appears in the mirror of the author's mind and experience. The author's mirror warps the experience, showing beauty where others may never have noticed it before, and thus sharing that unique beauty with the rest of the world. Self-reflection, therefore, only remains to be doubly warped and obscure, and though it can be a rewarding topic, is often more aptly reflected in fiction than in poetry, although I laugh because, again, I have referred to fiction as a place for self reflection. We're all fictitious after all.

After my brief encounter with the Buddhist blackbirds, I was invited out to dinner. Although I was not sure if I truly wanted to go or not, I decided that I had spent a decent amount of time in my cave, so I went. We ended up meeting up with another student from the EAC who is Japanese. After searching endlessly for a place that would satisfy us, and many smiles about clocks that had day glow faces and rhythm of life occurrences, we were at a standstill. Yet somehow, the Japanese student selected this moment to have a burst of genius, and suggest that we try to be adventurous, and go to this restaurant where mice were likely to be running around in the walls. I was not sure what to think of this potential "experience," but at last we decided to give in to the will of adventure. At first, when we got to the dingy hole-in-the-wall restaurant, I was skeptical, but the guy was amazingly nice and we had all sorts of language exchange experiences, trying to talk to the other customers. The food was delicious, and the owner (and chef) made a special dish for the girl I was with who is vegetarian. I imagine that it may be one of the few 100% vegetarian meals that she has had here in Japan that she hasn't cooked herself. We left the restaurant very full and in a cheery mood. We saw some sights along the way, cutting through a temple (which may have been Kinkakuji, although I am still not quite certain where it is), where I insisted on taking pictures of everything, even in the dark.

When we got home, it was not yet very late, but the bike cubby was very dark. In my clumsiness, I ended up knocking over the entire row of bikes and had to struggle to pick them all up again. Bikes are fantastic for getting around, but they are cumbersome when you're not riding them! On the note of bikes, I was able to make all of the hills tonight, which is a victory, since usually I give up and walk my bike up the two steepest. Perhaps Japan really is getting me in shape.

I'm going to bed now, quite satisfied since I have my Kappa Delta bear at my side for the first time since being here in Japan (Mom sent him to me in the mail today). As silly as it is, it's wonderful to have a piece of "home" to hold on to.