One day in Kyoto

First things first - I seem to have been discovered. This is sort of interesting because getting new people to read my blog was never one of my motivations for joining NaBloPoMo. It's as if I started jogging every morning to get in shape, and I happened to run across a group of joggers who by chance run the same route every morning.

I guess it's interesting to me because I never really thought of myself as part of the "blogosphere". I don't link to web sites much because I don't generally have time to surf the web. In fact, if it were an option, I'd prefer to write my blog using construction paper, scissors, glitter, and paste... I spend enough time sitting in front of a monitor all day as it is, and the fact is I really don't like computers.

First and foremost, this blog is a way to keep in touch with my friends. Newcomers are certainly welcome, though, and if you have any philosophical thoughts to share, I'm all ears! Or... eyes? Or, um... screen real estate in my comments section? :P

Jefferson meets Kyoto

Today I experienced an interesting collision of worlds. A sort of acquaintance from my hometown (actually I didn't really know her - we were half a generation apart, but she was good friends with my babysitter when I was little, and she was my dad's student, so we knew of each other) came to visit me! I had one day to show her around Kyoto, and so, two of my coworkers joining us, we hit the two biggest-name sights around: Kiyomizu-dera and Kinkaku-ji.

The weather was a bit dull today - overcast, grey, a little bit of rain in the afternoon. Didn't get a lot of pictures. Leaves weren't so colorful, but the crowds were plentiful. Crammed tightly into buses, we braved the Kyoto tourist track in full force.

My friends hadn't been to either of these destinations before, and they seemed to be having a great time, so we cut our list of places to visit short and spent plenty of time exploring the grounds of Kiyomizu-dera and Kinkaku-ji.

Kiyomizu-dera

Few and far between though the spectacular colors of the foliage may be, if one learns to see with the discerning eye of the Japanese, to focus narrowly on the beauty and shut out all else, one may truly appreciate the splendor of autumn.



At a leisurely pace, we explored all the little shrines within Kiyomizu-dera, including the famous "lovers' shrine" where lonely souls go to pray fervently to find their true love, buy love talismans of all sorts, and perhaps take the ultimate challenge - walking between two rocks roughly 10 meters apart with their eyes closed. It is said that succeeding in this task guarantees that you will find your true love. On a weekday, perhaps it's possible. On a day like today, the shrine was so full of people that it was difficult to even find the other rock with one's eyes open!

Nevertheless, I turned around at one point to see one of the faithful, eyes closed, hands outstretched, bumping into people left and right, serenely seeking the far stone. The crowd seemed to vanish as she progressed, and a chorus of excited schoolgirls on the sidelines began cheering her on! Stumbling forward, bouncing from side to side off of innocent bystanders while muttering "sumimasen, sumimasen...", she managed to maintain an uncannily straight course.

As if guided by an invisible force, she was drawn directly to the rock, a sure sign that she will find true love. During the last moments, it really seemed as though she was going to miss the stone, but ... I could have sworn I heard some heavenly voices from above calling, "righto! righto! righto!" It must have been the voices of the kami themselves.




Kinkaku-ji

Kinkaku-ji, the golden pavilion, is a sight that I've often seen gleaming with the warm glow of the evening sun, but it wasn't so spectacular today. A cold rain started to fall as we entered the grounds, and yet the crowds did not seem to let up. However, though robbing the Golden Pavilion of its spectacular brilliance, the rain seemed to enhance the beauty of the beds of moss blanketing the stones and stretching into the forest, and I think I was able to appreciate the beauty of the grounds much more for it.

Here is my "artsy" photo of Kinkaku-ji. It is motivated by the fact that hundreds and hundreds of people a day bustle through, stand in the "photogenic spot" for a picture, and then move on, after maybe a brief moment's contemplation. As many of my friends have been observing lately, the taking of photos seems to detract from an experience. Once you have the photo, the feeling is, "I've captured it now, and I should be moving on". I've noticed this myself - it is hard to break out of that mindset, and I tend to enjoy myself much more when I don't bring my camera.

The problem with Kinkaku-ji is that it is one of the most recognizable visual symbols of Kyoto, and one feels compelled to take the obligatory photograph, and then move on so others can take theirs. Later, looking over your photos, you might sit and think about what you saw, but at that point you are looking at a mere visual reproduction. The experience "in the moment" is lacking. In addition to this, images of it are everywhere, so most people are desensitized to it, and there's nothing visually new to see that "kicks your mind open".



The statement I am trying to make with this photo is that by viewing Kinkaku-ji through its reflection in the water, one sees it with more awareness than by looking at it directly. Not only is the form seen from an unfamiliar perspective and the mind forced to build a fresh image of the pavilion, but the ripples and raindrops in the water, combined with the reversal of background and foreground, fuse that visual image with an acute awareness of nature and environment in that moment.