I spend a lot of time taking pictures with my phone here in Japan. But what I find attractive are structures more than people. The people here are fantastic, but there is something beautiful about an empty room or a staircase that sets off an emotion within me. I feel like a building with various floors, representing the multitude of feelings I have at a given moment. Some argue that Japan is a flat landscape, and like its theater, the Kabuki, it is in many ways. But I see levels of textures. And meanings within one angle of a structure or room.
I have a fear of open space and, of course, staircases. Japan, in most cases, is very well designed in that I feel comfortable in a busy subway and train station. I never feel bad in the middle of Shibuya or Shinjuku station, primarily because one should always move with the crowd and never be against it. Go with the flow, and you will be OK. I even find great comfort in this thought, and the Shibuya Crossing is more massive in population than actual space. There is very little room to maneuver or change course. The rule is to go forward and don’t look back, which seems to be a natural acceptance of things in general.
When an open space is truly open and without people, then I get the feeling of an anxiety attack. I try to imagine Shibuya Crossing without people, which I find horrific. For that space to exist for me, I need the thousands that cross the streets taking place at that moment. It’s a high for me, and I feel good once I make it over the crossway. It may be better if you had a direction to go on, for me it is either Tower Records or Doutor coffee shop, which is a few buildings away from Tower. Or Muji’s five-story building next to the Disney store. Once I get to either of those locations, then I can plan out where I want to roam in Shibuya.
The weird sex shops are not around anymore since the economic bubble went poof. I remember going to one place that was located in an office building in Shinjuku that was creepy and mysterious and not that erotic. Just very strange. When you walk in, there is a counter space for transactions, but the person working there, usually a woman, can’t see her face, only her torso and arms. The structure is built so that a wall covers her face, and there is only an opening for financial transactions. Sex toys were there, as well as school uniforms of all sorts, including the classic nurse outfit. Pinned to the outfit is a photograph of a woman wearing the outfit. So, you are buying clothing that this woman seemed to wear at one time or more. I discovered this place because the building was full of bootleg music stores, some tiny as a closet space. Now, the building exists, but without these stores, as well as the sex shop, all gone.
For reasons that are not clear to me, my body and mental state are really on the edge for some reason. It could be due to the work, but it has been a challenging year or two for me, and I think my body and brain are processing all of that. It is a coincidence that the anxiety feelings took place here in Tokyo. It could have been in Atwater Village, California, but the timing was off. I have heard that traveling or taking a vacation suits one who is bothered, but I don’t think that is true. The issue of being over-sensitive and alert does not make a relaxing trip. But again, if I were back home in Silver Lake and going to my local Whole Foods, the anxiety would be the same. You can’t outrun one’s health; it will show its ugly head. But I’m convinced I will return to the sunny side of life. All I have to do is to stay on that surfboard and not fall off.