The "Flower Tower" in Paris...

www.guardian.co.uk/arts/features/story/0,11710,1308371,00.html

My brief experience of Zen led me to meander around the idea of movement. Zen prioritises a stillness- of both body and mind. And as I struggle with the physical effort of keeping still I come to realise that movement is always futile. I am uncomfortable so I desire to move; I give in and move, but am at once dissatisfied in my slightly altered condition. I am uncomfortable so I move; but then I am still uncomfortable- simply in a different place. I experiment with keeping utterly still and over time the body seems to sink into an equilibrium with its discomfort- a pain that looses sharpness as stillness is maintained.

Can I translate this bodily experience to a wider context? I attempt to expand these observations from a few hours in a small temple room to ideas about our movement through the world. Our constant seeking which requires constant movement; a societal phenomenon which we can see boldly represented in the capitalist economic system; the personal psyche writ large- this monster of unrequited desire; a system of endless dynamism. It is the antithesis to stillness. And has produced a widespread malaise.

Is it that, like sitting practicing zen- life is an uncomfortable thing…yet moving, and desiring will not end this discomfort? One can move constantly; shifting and niggling and never be completely at ease. What is required is a stillness, the coming to terms with discomfort, rather than a constant shifting, buying, chasing that always proves only a minor distraction before another movement becomes necessary-to maintain the escape (from what?).

This is an old, old civilisation and there are polished, well worn ways of doing things. The practice of daily life is highly organised, structured. There are ways that things are done, and they are done because that’s the way you do it.

Take match making/ couple-creation; there is a special word for the act of young people going out in a group where the numbers of un-partnered men and woman are carefully matched; a “date” usually organised by a couple; a boy inviting his single boy friends and a girl her unmatched girl friends. No one pretends this is an accidental event, rather, it is a consciously, collectively agreed upon method of interaction- it has it's own special label.

Such an old culture with these hardened, concretised “strata” of rituals and repeated practices does have certain advantages. It demands that people hold a type of respect and politeness toward each other that makes living just a little more pleasant; respectful drivers that wait patiently at the pedestrian crossing, the “event” of even the smallest purchase.

As I buy a 100 yen carton of orange juice I am treated to a ritual of exchange; careful packaging in a bag, a straw neatly added, a bow and profusion of thanks.

Between lunch and job some Dotonbori gaudiness for the senses. Too much...

blonde hair anyone?

Pachinko, Osaka. I watched a business man depart this noise with the most calm demeanour. Must do something positive for the nerves. Relaxation/escape in the giddiness.

Them rolling hills. Wonderful layers in the evening. Kyoto, Japan.