At the moment, I'm in the midst of clearing out a closet full of things I haven't touched since we moved into this house. One of those boxes was full of old journals. I took a break to read. While this has significantly slowed my cleaning progress, it reminded me of how unhappy I was and how happy I am now. I think that appreciating what one has is...well...a big part of enjoying it. It's also a big part of keeping those things that bring you joy. In addition, Japanese things I used to like keep grabbing my attention. Things I used to be drawn to and had kind of forgotten. I go through these phases, see. I'll go a couple of years being obsessed with one topic and then I'll drift to another. It's my way of exploring the world. Sometimes, I'm called back to that subject. Sometimes, I never leave. Sometimes, I never go back. Apparently, it's time for the Japanese things to return.
It all started with a sword...well...a shinai.[1] And now, it returns with a katana.[2] while I've been in and out of martial arts programs ever since that first, I wandered off from the rest. Now, I'm being drawn back to Japanese history and storytelling--which is great because there's so much wonderful there. Some of it is going to influence the writing. This time, I feel more comfortable about that because after the years of Irish studies I feel I've a better handle on what is cultural appropriation and racism and what isn't. Mind you, I'm still working on it. I always will be. I don't want to slack on that and end up doing harm, you know?
So, last night I re-watched 47 Ronin, and well, felt guilty about enjoying it...because damn it...why does the westerner have to be the center of attention all the time? Still, problematic as that is, it's fun. I just wish that Mika had a sword or a naginata and used it on the dragon/witch. Watching her cower all the time is painful as hell. Next up? I need to revisit my favorite Hayao Miyazaki films, starting with Kiki's Delivery Service. Also? Ghost Dog. Because GHOST F-ING DOG.
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[1] I was having daily panic attacks. Nothing was stopping them. That was when my therapist suggested I engage in a physical activity involving discipline. That's when I found Kendo. The minute the shinai hit my hands the attacks vanished and never returned. Me being me, I spent some time exploring samurai culture too--down to the diet. Hey, I like having a bigger picture. [2] My birthday present, Heart of Glass.
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