I’m certainly not.
I make a lot of predictions here, and claim to have the proper “hot take” on so many global issues.
But I don’t get everything right, and when I make a mistake, I own up to it.
I just got back from New Jersey, (on Monday,) and I’m writing on my customary Thursday.
It’s been less than 72 hours since I returned, and the trip itself took 12 hours, (via Denver,) so what I’m mystified about is that travel leaves a resonance.
Most of me is here in New Mexico, but a shade of my soul is lingering in Jersey, for sure.
Back in 2019, and early #2020, I was traveling so much, it was one big blur, and I wasn’t able to differentiate the biochemical, or metaphysical reactions from each individual visit.
But with this large a gap, I recognized the sensation, and it’s real.
It’s like you left a glimmer of yourself, back where you just were, before an airplane whooshed you up into the sky, and deposited you thousands of miles away.
But that’s not what I’m apologizing about.
Rather, when I was in New Jersey, (and I promise a full write up in the near future, with photos,) it was amazing to see how much life looked like the “Old Normal.”
There were still masks around, in certain indoor public settings, but the general vibe allowed getting in personal space with loved ones indoors, sharing food, full airplanes, and no social distancing.
Things looked A LOT like they did, before the 15 month pause.
I had it wrong.
(I’m speaking here in America, where vaccinations have been available to all who want them. It’s not a global phenomenon, I know.)
Trees and rocks have souls, (if I understand things correctly,) in the Shinto religion.
My buddy Kyohei explained it to me once, in an outdoor exhibition space at the Art Institute of Chicago.
Art objects can have souls too, if you think about it.
Photo books embody the energy the artist puts into each picture, and then the momentum developed over the course of the narrative.
I just put down “Strawberry Parfait,” by Jimi Franklin, published by Denton Books in #2020, and it totally captures the way I feel right now. (A little haunted.)
It’s one of those books that seems like a flip-book-animation from a movie.
Like a continuous narrative, broken down into frozen memories.
Dimly lit scenes.
If you cross the Wong Kar-wai vibe of “In the Mood for Love” with some of Sofia Coppola’s “Lost in Translation,” you might end up somewhere near the story this flip book would unspool.
The ending essay brings up Shinto, as a root element in Japanese culture, and also says the images were made over a decade.
I must say, I think this book is a gem.
With the rhythmic changes in the image rectangle shape, and the tactile paper that makes you WANT to turn the page, this one’s a winner.
Does it make me want to go to Japan?
But it also makes me want to look at it again, to go on the ride through this vision, which is always the sign of a very cool book.