Broken Arrows - Slow Moves
You know those moments in your life, when an old memory reaches to you, in most unexpected moment?Well, recently I had my own, kind of a miniscule flashback. It's hard to explain the feeling really, but I will try.
I was in Shinjuku, I met an old friend that day in Takashimaya Times Square, we had a lunch. She told about space art.
After I met her I went to have a glass of wine in the metropolitan towers as I had nothing to do. When I was walking back, I crossed a bus platform of Shinjuku, and it came back to me. The memory more vivid in color than Brazilian designer's shirt.
I must have went through the bus platform many times before, and the memory never really came back to me. But now I remembered the time, exactly two years back, when I was going out with the Japanese photographer. And I used to live in Suginami.
The tastes, smells, fragrances. That lost time, you know. And the music that never left me, and that breeze of March, and the cherry blossoms.
That time she borrowed me her father's camera, Film Nikon that is, a fully mechanical camera, heavy as a brick but a camera that takes exquisite photos, pictures with feeling. I took so many pictures. And we met friends with her, mostly her friends though and got drunk. Faces I've forgotten by now. Memory is a funny thing.
I only remember clearly the music we listened. In mornings before she went to work, we listened J-Wave from radio. In evenings we'd listen mostly either of two CD's: Craig Armstrong's "Piano Works" and José González's "Veneer". And she was a big fan of Hedwig movie and it's soundtrack.
The fate kind of took cruel turns on us. Maybe fate takes neither cruel or soft turns, I ought to know that by now, but still.
I felt shiver that moment on the bus platform, my feet didn't move, my throat felt suddenly dry as a desert. The moment you kind of feel like you can swallow your heart. I remember how I stayed at her house, waited for her to come back home, and how imperfect I was, and how perfect she was.
Of course even if I could go back to the past, I probably wouldn't go. I'm not much of a nostalgic person. Nostalgia can be like a whirlpool, you know. It can take you away. I'm pretty happy with my life. And I don't want to be swept away by memories. I want to stand on solid ground. Having said all that, it does make my heart ache to think these things.
So I present my drawing. My attempt was to illustrate the dualism we human beings live in, concrete reality now, and the reflection of the past that is fading away.