Negative Space

Our last night in Japan--we've done and seen and experienced so incredibly much, as this blog tries to share. We're so happy and grateful to be together and to have been able to travel here for this special period of time. And for the support of the many people who have made it possible for us to be away.

As we pack up after 3 quick days in Tokyo, we are also thinking of all the possibilities and things we planned to do that didn't happen.

Of course it's part of the traveling--the things that were too crowded or sold out or full, or we were too tired or we were fighting, or we couldn't afford it or couldn't find it, or it was too far away or we missed the train or we didn't leave enough time or we were arguing again. Or whatever. There are things we are sad to have missed, and things we are sad to leave. Or larger things. Like the fact that we were on the road instead of at home--there's always a place you are not. And we were not at Moey's funeral.

And we've missed plays and celebrations. We have been away away from our families and friends and beloved crazy dog. There's absence and emptiness and the things not done. Some are silly, some are a drag, some are heartbreaking. One of my favorite theater games is called 'positive/negative space'. It's a tableau game building on the empty spaces left by the bodies of the players between the other players. In the negative spaces, the things not done, the story emerges. There's information and poetry and power there. There's no presence without the absence. Things we'll miss from a country we are possibly never to return to:

How big rooms feel when you are sleeping on the tatami floor. Weirdly comfortable futons. Kimono socks. Tuna rice triangles and sour plum rice triangles. All the different pickles. Pocari Sweat (the gatorade of japan) and Royal Milk Tea both of which can be bought in vending machines that are literally everywhere.

Fresh toothbrushes with teensy toothpastes. Amazing vegan food in Tokyo. The incredible weather. Each little Shinto shrine. Beef buns. Cherry blossoms everywhere. Buddha everywhere. Markets with so many tubs and barrels and buckets. The hanging spheres of cedar fronds indicating a sake shop. Coins with holes in them. Everything neat and wrapped and planned out. The incredibly helpful people that pop out from all over the place to point you in the right direction. The cooking smells. Pinwheels in the windows. The Tanuki. Jizo-san at the cross-roads in his bib and hat. The incredibly organized trains. Restaurants with only 8 seats in them. The endless warm water options of the Sento or the Onsen. The yukatas. The girls in kimonos. The fancy manhole covers. The big big trees. And the heated toilet seats. 'Arigato gosaimas'

- Jessica