Monday, October 6, 2014

October 6, 2014



October 6, 2014

“To create architecture is to put in order. Put what in order? Function and objects.” In the end of the day, right before I close my eyes to go to another part of my world, I think of my objects. Right now in Tokyo, due to space and expenses I have pretty much nothing. “The home should be the treasure chest of living.” A passport, my laptop and that’s it.  I’m interested in staying in my room which is tatami mat with one large window looking outside, and a smaller window looking out at displayed plants.  What more do I need in life?




Weather here changes in such a rapid pace, that I don’t know if it will rain or turn into a fierce bitter sunlight.   Once I leave the doorstep, I usually choose to go back in.  I can’t deal with change in such a rapid manner.  Also I love the design of my room.  It is just big enough for two futons, and that leaves five inches for storage or things.  Or as Le Corbusier says “objects.” Being here I feel like I’m stripping away my life, not to renew my existence, but to finally destroy it.  At the moment, I have only images of the artist Méret Oppenheim, because I find her erotic.  If there is a chance that I can build up myself again, I want to do so by meditating on her sexuality.



Man Ray took these incredible images of her naked among a large printing press.  Machinery is often sexual, but with the addition of her body, it becomes almost explosively fantastic.  But as they say in various songs, it is not her body, but her eyes that expresses an adventure of a sensual kind.  I imagine her in my room here in Tokyo. More as an object than anything else.  Owing to the fact that I really have nothing else, but me and my shadow.



The zen like intensity of a thousand electric guitars playing at once is swelling in my head, and I think I see something spiritual in front of me, and it is the image of Méret, but one has to go beyond that, and think of what love is, which obviously, isn’t the case here.  To be confined to one’s thoughts and just reflecting on the space in the room, and her place in that room, is really silly.  It is best that I go out and tackle the music of the traffic and go window shopping.  Draw up a list of things that I want, and then be satisfied that I can come back to these windows, the eyes, which are the windows to my soul.

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