Outer Peace and Apple Scrumping I wonder what goes through other people’s minds when they see street photography. I see hundreds of little vignettes like this one out and about every day. Some I manage to photograph. Some I fail to save from slipping through my fingers and into the voracious, sarlacc-like maw of time. Either way, they always get me thinking. On a bright and breezy May 19 2012, I walked to a nearby “Bux” and got to started on some design work. Like a cheeky apple scrumper, I like to purloin bite-sized chunks of my surroundings from time to time with my camera. My conscience remains guilt-free as long as I scrump what I need to survive, but never so much as to upset the balance. This time as I looked into the hessian sack and examined the spoils of my escapade, it struck me that there was something very peaceful about the shot. While I sit under the tree from which I yoink those golden, delicious goodies, I think about life, the universe, mortality, society. The usual. I have been thinking about the deaths of myself and my loved ones on a daily basis for so long now that I forget it makes some people feel an attack of the jibblies coming on. It makes me feel insanely lucky and reminds me that my time is short. I make it a habit to ask myself how much I’d miss a comfortable little spot like this if I were in a trench, pinned down by whining bullets from enemy guns, as my grandfather was. Cold, wet, hungry and yearning for one night of comfort at home with my family and a log fire. Nary an apple in sight. It keeps me appreciative and keeps my priorities straight. Back in the pampered, high-tech 21st century I live in, I was illustrating on one of the many iDevices I carry around with me. I wondered how illustrators and graphic designers of even just a few years ago would feel if I gave them a computer thinner than a book on which they could do vector design work that used to require a supercomputer. I knew I had to get to the gym and back home before 4:00 p.m. to start preparations for tonight’s shoot at KBS Hall, where I have been commissioned to photograph a dance event. I was listening to The Bugle podcast and realised, not for the first time, that I will look back at these as the happiest days of my life. I have had that sensation enough times to know that I must be one of the most fortunate humans who has ever walked the surface of the earth. I must have it better than the kings and emperors of any generation past. My friend’s friend’s newborn baby was diagnosed with cerebral palsy days ago. He has a pure and heart-warming smile. He will require care for the rest of his life. My poor mum suffers with her mobility and can’t get up her stairs without the help of a stairlift. 40% of humans who were ever born did not make it past their first birthdays. The odds against the comforts I enjoy must be so high that the story will seem suspicious to future generations. *crunch crunch burp* When the survivors are fighting for the last drops of clean “shui” and “yo”, they will probably tell tales of how good it used to be for the lucky ones back in 2012 :) After the dawn of the internet and before the resources ran out, there was a hell of a party. I am grateful everyday that I was born in a place and at a time when I wasn’t sold into slavery, persecuted and oppressed, drafted into a war or crippled by poverty. Only a tiny percentage of the humans ever born made it into this self-rowing lifeboat, and we did so thanks to the efforts of our ancestors and a heaped scoop of luck. All we’ve got to do is lie back, pick the core clean and marvel at how we beat the system. Here’s hoping we all appreciate the odds against our insanely high quality of life and can maybe even do something to earn it. In the meantime, I’ll scatter my pips to the wind and wonder if one of them will take. Perhaps an apple tree will spring forth some day? That’s what occurs to me when I see this image. How about you?
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Outer Peace and Apple Scrumping

I wonder what goes through other people’s minds when they see street photography. I see hundreds of little vignettes like this one out and about every day. Some I manage to photograph. Some I fail to save from slipping through my fingers and into the voracious, sarlacc-like maw of time. Either way, they always get me thinking.

On a bright and breezy May 19 2012, I walked to a nearby “Bux” and got to started on some design work. Like a cheeky apple scrumper, I like to purloin bite-sized chunks of my surroundings from time to time with my camera. My conscience remains guilt-free as long as I scrump what I need to survive, but never so much as to upset the balance.

This time as I looked into the hessian sack and examined the spoils of my escapade, it struck me that there was something very peaceful about the shot.

While I sit under the tree from which I yoink those golden, delicious goodies, I think about life, the universe, mortality, society. The usual. I have been thinking about the deaths of myself and my loved ones on a daily basis for so long now that I forget it makes some people feel an attack of the jibblies coming on.

It makes me feel insanely lucky and reminds me that my time is short. I make it a habit to ask myself how much I’d miss a comfortable little spot like this if I were in a trench, pinned down by whining bullets from enemy guns, as my grandfather was. Cold, wet, hungry and yearning for one night of comfort at home with my family and a log fire. Nary an apple in sight. It keeps me appreciative and keeps my priorities straight.

Back in the pampered, high-tech 21st century I live in, I was illustrating on one of the many iDevices I carry around with me. I wondered how illustrators and graphic designers of even just a few years ago would feel if I gave them a computer thinner than a book on which they could do vector design work that used to require a supercomputer.

I knew I had to get to the gym and back home before 4:00 p.m. to start preparations for tonight’s shoot at KBS Hall, where I have been commissioned to photograph a dance event. I was listening to The Bugle podcast and realised, not for the first time, that I will look back at these as the happiest days of my life.

I have had that sensation enough times to know that I must be one of the most fortunate humans who has ever walked the surface of the earth. I must have it better than the kings and emperors of any generation past. My friend’s friend’s newborn baby was diagnosed with cerebral palsy days ago. He has a pure and heart-warming smile. He will require care for the rest of his life.

My poor mum suffers with her mobility and can’t get up her stairs without the help of a stairlift. 40% of humans who were ever born did not make it past their first birthdays. The odds against the comforts I enjoy must be so high that the story will seem suspicious to future generations. *crunch crunch burp*

When the survivors are fighting for the last drops of clean “shui” and “yo”, they will probably tell tales of how good it used to be for the lucky ones back in 2012 :) After the dawn of the internet and before the resources ran out, there was a hell of a party.

I am grateful everyday that I was born in a place and at a time when I wasn’t sold into slavery, persecuted and oppressed, drafted into a war or crippled by poverty. Only a tiny percentage of the humans ever born made it into this self-rowing lifeboat, and we did so thanks to the efforts of our ancestors and a heaped scoop of luck. All we’ve got to do is lie back, pick the core clean and marvel at how we beat the system.

Here’s hoping we all appreciate the odds against our insanely high quality of life and can maybe even do something to earn it. In the meantime, I’ll scatter my pips to the wind and wonder if one of them will take. Perhaps an apple tree will spring forth some day?

That’s what occurs to me when I see this image.

How about you?

窓に映り込んだ自分の姿 Self-portrait in store window (best viewed on retina display:P)
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窓に映り込んだ自分の姿

Self-portrait in store window (best viewed on retina display:P)

鴨川沿い散歩 A woman in kimono holding a parasol taking a stroll along Kyoto’s Kamogawa River in the spring.
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鴨川沿い散歩

A woman in kimono holding a parasol taking a stroll along Kyoto’s Kamogawa River in the spring.

Aoi Matsuri takes place in Kyoto every May. Aoi Matsuri (葵祭) is one of the three main annual festivals held in Kyoto, Japan, the other two being the Festival of the Ages and Gion Festival. It’s often called Hollyhock festival although “aoi” is not hollyhock, nor are they related. Aoi (葵) doesn’t have an English name, but the Latin name is Asarum caulescens. It’s a species of wild ginger. The connection with Hollyhock came about because one of the kanji characters was related, so someone assumed the plants were. The mistake just stuck.
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Aoi Matsuri takes place in Kyoto every May. Aoi Matsuri (葵祭) is one of the three main annual festivals held in Kyoto, Japan, the other two being the Festival of the Ages and Gion Festival. It’s often called Hollyhock festival although “aoi” is not hollyhock, nor are they related.


Aoi (葵) doesn’t have an English name, but the Latin name is Asarum caulescens. It’s a species of wild ginger. The connection with Hollyhock came about because one of the kanji characters was related, so someone assumed the plants were. The mistake just stuck.

Mise en abyme 伏見稲荷大社
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Mise en abyme

伏見稲荷大社

Ninenzaka, Kyoto, Japan 二年坂・京都 (Taken with instagram)
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Ninenzaka, Kyoto, Japan 二年坂・京都 (Taken with instagram)

Koi carp doing an impression of the Of Rice and Zen logo
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Koi carp doing an impression of the Of Rice and Zen logo

Some of the most valuable objects I own are my notebooks. Financial value has little meaning to me, but my notebooks carry lyrics and design drafts that are irreplaceable.

I used to use Moleskines, which are mass-produced notebooks that share a name with well-made notebooks used by writers and artists, whose names are printed on the marketing blurb (Hemingway et al). However, if you look past the ad copy and into the product you’ll find that a far better alternative is the Ciak Duo.

Again, ignore your inner yuppie, commodity fetishist who comes to a proud, twitching stand when he reads marketing spiel like, “hand-sewn in Italy”, the important thing is that as well as being pretty sturdy, flexible and well-designed, the Duo is a lined notebook and plain sketchbook in one.

It’s “UI” is thoughtful and simple. The plain white cover denotes the blank side and the black leather is the writing side. Each has a colour coded fabric bookmark for your latest drawing or song. For a writer/designer like myself this is the best solution I’ve found for drafting before I move on to my MacBook Pro.

For me, lyrics and ideas are best written by hand. The shape and fluidity of words that are intended to be spoken out loud is vital. The written word on the page can be molded and shaped like clay. Handwriting helps me keep a handle on part the rhythm, cadence and rhyme. The handwriting informs the delivery style and the concept art. Each song we make is approached as a multimedia project.

Also useful is that repeated drafts and crossings-out are visible in my notebooks so I can see my analogue “revision history” at all times. The words have to be tactile and musical, not utilitarian, so the way they are composed is also hands-on.

I rarely work on lyrics in isolation. Words, when written for the purpose of being spoken or sung, take on the properties of music, so the lyrics have to act as one of the instruments. That means they have to written as the song evolves. Crossing out and redrafting is the bulk of the process. Deleting text on a laptop screen and returning to a blank page doesn’t give the same gradual sense of carving and honing. Each word I keep has to balanced on a mountain of scribbles and runners up.

In order for the song to evolve I need a visual for myself and the other members of 1.G.K to hold on to as we develop the song. With the input of six individuals a song can lose its direction altogether if you don’t have a point of reference.

That’s why I need to be able to flip the Duo over at any time to draft the song’s concept art as I write. The lyrics will influence the music and the concept art and vice-versa. Song-writing is a visual art for me, so I need my Duo with me at all times. Multiple notebooks and iPads don’t do the trick.

Regular visitors to this blog might have recently seen a photo of my sketchbook in which I had drawn a draft illustration of an azure dragon I found in Rokkakudo Temple in Kyoto. That sketch became a composite photo for my new song “Seiryuu”, and the song is now in the works, based on ideas reflected in this design.

Dusk in Kyoto Taken @ Shinpuhkan, Karasuma-Oike, Kyoto, Japan
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Dusk in Kyoto

Taken @ Shinpuhkan, Karasuma-Oike, Kyoto, Japan

The beauty of the Internet is that it brings you into contact with all kinds of people and lets you share information and knowledge. I wonder where this lovely lady is from?

BTW my comeback may seem a bit harsh, but on her photo caption she outright accused me of stealing her shot and demanded I take it down. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad were it not for the fact that her post-processing and white balance were not exactly the work of a seasoned pro. I resent the implication that I would steal such poor work, more than I resent the accusation that I stole.

Me, Elsewhere