Little Oases

As I've said in a previous post, I love to travel. And while I have liked almost everywhere I've been to, some places I really, really love. Germany is one of those places, and so is Austria. But most recently, one of those places has been Japan. How I love Japan! And one of the things I love most of all about it is the attention to detail. This appeals both to my own love of detail (I take everything in) and a perhaps slightly less positive trait - a hankering for order. The giant waterlilly pads in a park in Ueno, Tokyo, pictured above are an example of the former. Even amongst the thriving (and I do mean thriving) metropolis of Tokyo, there was this nurturing oasis of green calm. And even in less organised ways, on street corners throughout the city, people had thought to arrange pot plants just so that there were some greenery amongst the concrete jungle.

I watched "Around the World in 80 Gardens" on TV the other night and the host's visit to a Zen garden in Japan and to a Japanese teahouse brought it all back to me. Although I realise it has far more cultural and historical significance than anything I, as a non-Japanese person, could perhaps hope to understand, I have to love a country that devotes a ceremony to drinking tea! The teahouse above - again in Tokyo - was apparently a favourite of the Emperor.

Autumn

We are in the midst of autumn here in the South (Hemisphere, that is) and autumn is always especially lovely around our way. In fact, it's my favourite season. Today, for example, it was delightfully foggy in the morning and then a sort of misty haze hung over the city for most of the day. A lot of people don't like fog, I'm sure, but being the overly thoughtful type that I am, I love it for a couple of kinda wishy-washy reasons. Or, at least, I love it in the safe confines of our urban environment. I probably wouldn't be too mad on it if I was driving on a dangerous, winding road or being pursued by Jack-the-Ripper through 19th century London. But since I was doing neither of those things this morning as I stood on the doorstep, it made me smile. It envelops otherwise familiar (and sometimes dreary) scenes in an air of mystery, indeed, of mysticism. Above is a photo I took on my phone as I walked up from the train station this afternoon. It captures just what I like about autumn; the stark loveliness of the trees and the clear, almost brittle, blue skies.

Hello from Feronia

Some of you may have noticed that I have had an ID change since last you checked in here in the Yellow Wood. I am now going by the Nom du Net of Feronia and I'll tell you why. Feronia, I have very recently discovered, was an Ancient Etruscan goddess of travelers and freedom and this seems very appropriate to me right now. So there you are, all is explained. Well, all on that small matter anyway.

On another note, I have also very recently discovered the poems of Edgar Allan Poe. A bit shameful, I know, for someone who claims to have a major in English Lit but there it is. And hey, he wasn't English! (yes, I know that doesn't get me off the hook) But, anyway, I have been doing some research for a chapter I'm writing on Neofolk music (and that will be another story for another day) and Mr Poe has oft been cited. So, like a good researcher, I duly checked him out, and for deliciously gothic imagery and beautiful, alliterative language, look no further, my friends. I especially recommend "Annabel Lee".

Eurovision

Who watched Eurovision? Go on, admit it. Eurovision has this slightly shameful, pathetic image (at least around these parts) and this year I very nearly bought into that, despite having watched and enjoyed it in previous years. Pah!, I said cynically, Eurovision. Load of commercialised rot, sub-standard music, ridiculous costumes etc., etc. And the two nights of semi-finals screened on tv here seemed to confirm that. But the finals were really something else. The winning song from Norway, "Fairytale", is just great (http://www.eurovision.tv/event/artistdetail?song=24699&event=1481). A wonderful pop song, in the truest sense of the term, but a great Eurovision song too in that it did have that bit of dagginess, that bit of sentimentalism (folk violin!) and so, that bit of heart. And it's got a bit of Abba too, and a bit of "Those Were the Days" for those who remember back that far, so really a very good song in a couple of respects. Another terrific one in my view was the entry from Portugal, "Todas As Ruas Do Amor" (http://www.eurovision.tv/event/artistdetail?song=24683&event=1480). Gentle, folksy, little bit of the Sundays. Lovely. Hooray for a bit of the daggy! Douze pointe!!

Western Skies

Well, here I am, back again after quite a break. These have been difficult times for me in many ways and I am quite sure I am not out of the woods yet. Difficult but perhaps also ultimately important and rewarding times of transition. Who knows? I guess I'll just have to wait and see. What I had thought I would be doing with my life professionally has fairly definitively ground to a halt and proved to be something of a dead end, rather than the highway to glory and satisfaction! This is distressing, unsettling, challenging and liberating news for someone in (as it was described to me) "early middle age" (!!) So I have been going through (and continue to go through) a slow process of rebuilding: how can I adapt the skills I have? Do I need to start all over again? What really interests me?, as well as encountering a few of the recognised stages of denial about it all: anger, hurt, blame, jealousy etc. Perhaps these are not the official recognised stages of denial, but they're the ones I've been feeling.

What prompted me especially to post is a post I've just read from a blogging friend of mine at Another Beautiful Day (http://milk-and-berries.blogspot.com/). In her latest entry, she ponders the nature of youth and this is what I have been thinking about lately too. How full of promise life seems when you're young! Everything seems possible, time and opportunity stretch out before you. What I now think is really amazing is to recapture at least some of that feeling later, when you've taken a few knocks, while also balancing it out with a useful dash of 30-something reality. Can it be done? I'll let you know. Meanwhile, I think Roddy Frame (he of 80s indie-pop group Aztec Camera, ironically part of the soundtrack of my youth) says it best in "Western Skies":

The road you chose to follow
Slowly turned into a cul-de-sac.
There's no shame in turning back
And trying something new.

Reasons to be cheerful 2

1. Turning over a new leaf, and really turning it over.
2. Realising just a little bit more of what it's really all about. I think.
3. Making scones but getting some really tasty biscuits instead.

Reasons to be cheerful 1:

A beautiful day. Not hot but warm, warming the bed which sits underneath the window.
A light breeze on the face.
Good milk chocolate.
Peanut butter on hot toast.
Just a little glimpse of promise, despite everything.