*Fleeting...

Monday, 26 May 2008
12.22am

I am confused. I am confused. Did I say I was confused.
I must be.

In the past few days. My head has been a blur. A Blur.aBlur….

Fleeting memories having been slipping past me. Like water in my hands. I have been waking up a lot throughout the night and the day. Maybe because the sun rises too early and sets too late in Spring/Summer that I can no longer accurately guage time passing. Or maybe its just that I haven’t been sleeping well at all.

I use to like playing Dovorák, Debussy and Chopin on the piano. My dog’s name is Chopin. Debussy’s daughter’s name was Chou Chou. That’s what Viv told me when she passed me Shunji Iwai’s ‘All about Lilly Chou Chou’ and that sentence has kinda just stuck in my head ever since. I never finished watching the DVD because it made me nauseous but Debussy’s daughter’s name was Chou Chou. Debussy’s daughter’s name was Chou Chou. Debussy’s daughter’s name was Chou Chou….

In my awake/sleep mode I’ve been dreaming about tasting a bottle of Chateau de Verger 2004 Beujolais again that I had at the The Pig's Ear. In my dream it is at the tip of my tongue but I can’t grasp the taste. How painful.

I just bought a copy of Takeshi Miike’s ‘Ichi the Killer’ for Viv. Not because I like Takeshi Miike but because I love watching Tadanobu Asano. I have every single DVD with Tadanobu Asano in it except ‘The Picnic’ and the soon to be released epic 'The Mongol' , where he acts as Genghis Khan. ‘Ichi The Killer’ must be the most teeth-ghashingly violent and stomach churning movie I have watched, but I think Viv would like it. She’s a real special one….

Tonight, I just bought a cake online for my mum. She’s not really into violent movies.

I think Taka Hirose is the coolest modern bass guitar player around. He built his own bass. How cool is that?

I’ve been trying to search for an old Yano Maki album. Something that brings back painful yet tender memories for me.

My hair has grown long again. Too long for spring and summer I think. I should cut it again.

I am confused. Am I confusing you? But I aready told you I was confused.

I just started reading Jean-Dominuque Bauby’s ‘The Diving-Bell and the The Butterfly’. It was a gift from Viv after we went to watch the movie and I told her how much I would like a copy of the script. In simple terms, it is about the ex-editor of French Elle magazine who suffered a massive stroke which ended up paralyzing his whole body except his left eye. He wrote the entire book letter by letter with a person translating each alphabet letter by letter with an approving wink of his left eye. In a passage he talks about the last time he saw his father before his stroke.

I remember the last time I saw my mum. I held her briefly at the airport in February. It seems like such a long time ago now. Every time I go home. She appears to have aged. Her eyes seem to protrude more and more from her sockets and emanciated frame. I can see her capillaries through her now translucent and delicate skin. If I dig deeper into my memories, I use to remember that she had jet black hair. Even into her 50s. But now, with the fatigue of age, I can see all the whites. I can remember lying beside her and watching her during her afternoon naps. I have never had a habit of afternoon naps, but I liked to lie there right beside her watching her on afternoons when it was too hot and humid to do anything but lie still. I can remember her scent, her faint moisturizer and the ever comforting feel of your mother beside you. Mostly I remember how gentle and kind my mother was.

Happy Birthday Mum. Sometimes. I miss you. Very much.

On Player_Sumidare_On Yano Maki’s 'Live your Life’