For the past month I have been living with blurred vision; a veritable mole in a world dominated by sight, the only objects I could see in full clarity were those that were within arms reach. Yesterday, I visited the optometrist to receive a new prescription, rush ordering my lenses so that I can pick them up later that day.

Experience more by seeing less.

A month without clarity of sight can change your sensory perceptions quite significantly, and even alter your world-view.

People often associate visual perception with mental cognition-- quite literally people tend to think visually.

We often take for granted how other sensory perceptions such as the aural (hearing), olfactoral (smell) , gustation (taste) , somatic (touch) contribute to our understanding of the world.

But as vision recedes, the other four senses become pronounced-- the world is a breathtakingly unfamiliar place.

The sound of birds you never bothered to listen to before.
The sensation of the slightest wind caresses you.
You can feel the rumble of cars pass by, and taste the fragrance of moist grass and earth suspended in the morning air.

Its a wonderful experience, that I wish I had experimented early on.

Anyone up for the challenge?

The ethnographic gallery is a reliquary of entrapped mana.

Powerrful deities, fetishes, and talisman from throughout the world surround me--objects and subjects begrudgingly sold by indigenous peoples in exchange for the other--all-powerful-- and internationally recognized fetish called currency.

The spirits and energies that flow from these objects are not necessarilly positive; the gallery adorned with flowers feels as if it is perpetually mired in the doldrums. The objects--once the proud ritual possessions of indigenous people are now commodities-- the luster they once exuded in ritual context--long lost by those cultures now irreversably altered by the passage of time and the unrelenting waves of globalization.

The frustration the objects must feel, having lost their agency to speak through ritual. The fetishtic thoughts and memories these objects were endowed with are gradually declining as the cultures they come from abandon old ways.

Their mana is forever entrapped in this ethnographic sarcophogus.

The very forces underlying the collection of ethnographic art are undermining the cultures from which they collect, as a growing number of indigenous artists cater to Western tastes and perceptions rather than indigneous aesthetic needs. From the opposite perspective, this incarceration of ethnographic objects points to a repressed, imperialistic, and--some might say--"necrophilic" desire of ours to define ourselves vis-a-vis the Other--collected.

第三天

So goes the adage,
"幸運の女神は前髪しかない"
(kou'un no megami wa maegami shika nai)
Literally, the goddess of Fortune only has front hair.

The adage points to the notion that opportunities come by chance and must be siezed quickly, as there is no second chance in life.

This adage came to mind as I was informed of two employment opportunities that I could use to secure a working permit in Canada.

I have already secured a cushy job at a securities broker in Tokyo, through the assistance of my father. Yet, deep down in my heart I know that I would prefer to steer my own course in life, rather than live up to the expectations of the patriarch.

As my friend Erick informed me, money is one of the many false-securities in life.

Frankly, the idea of accumulating wealth does not excite me at all, but unfortunately it is at the top of the list of priorities for my father and partner...

Furthermore, the mere thought of corporate life in Japan mortifies me (Here is the reason so aptly summarized by David Marx in his rather bluntly titled article "Work/Life Balance-Never Coming to Japan").

Besides, I find the lucrative business of moving (gambling with) other peoples money a little distasteful for my little mind.

The options I currently hold in my hand is an ESL teaching position in Vancouver, and a translator/interpreter position in Toronto. Either of these positions is fine-- so long as I can save enough money to pursue a Canadian B. Ed. in a few years time.

Fingers Crossed.

Here goes.

(Tired of writing resumes)