My Street Japan. Day 10. Tammy T. Stone
You never know who or what will appear in the frame as you’re setting up a shot. Here we find a man dressed in what is known around the world as the typical Japanese “salaryman” uniform, which lends itself beautifully to black-and-white form. Rather than see or experience something typical, however, I find myself asking: Who is this man? Where is he going well before lunch-hour on a street he likely doesn’t work on? What was the first though the had upon waking up, and what did he dream last night? (The theme of my dreams last night was grief – were his?). What will he have for lunch, and where does he want to be one week from now, one year, a decade?
There are so many stories to be told, so many hints of our varied lives everywhere we look …
My Street Japan. DAY 9. Tammy T. Stone
Three things I’m grateful for.
- Large blocks of stone on a busy street
My Street Japan. DAY 8. Tammy T. Stone
This morning, as the lunar eclipse had us contemplating shadow and light, hiding and emergence, and the vast magnitude of our cosmos, I stepped outside looking for magic. When nothing instantly appeared, I turned my mind’s eye and my heart in another direction, knowing that magic appears everywhere, when we are ready and willing for its manifestation.
Green isn’t the first thing you notice when you step onto this street. In this photo, however, we are gifted with the resplendence of the natural world. In a tiny patch of cultivated garden (I’ve never seen who is taking care of this property, and does it belong to the city, or the apartment?), I can take my imagination and dive in, and remember that I live on an island. I think of all the uncultivated islands, or parts of islands I’ve seen, where nature is left to her own devices, and sings, and tumbles around, and soars.
It’s not that the singing here is more quiet. It’s that often, I’m forgetting to listen. One leaf, like one person, contains the world. A community of them – of us – is a dizzy dance of joy. I’m humbled the ability of a photograph to cue me to dive back in and dance with the green-magic Life is always offering us.
My Street Japan. DAY 7. Tammy T. Stone
There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
I usually take my daily photo in the morning, but anticipating the full moon, and having tracked the moon’s course many times, I was lucky enough to step outside to this view tonight! While I find night photography tantalizing and ethereal, I usually photography by day, so this was a lot of fun for me, to see the street coming alive through my lens in a different way.
For us here in Japan, the full moon (and lunar eclipse!) happen tomorrow morning, but for tonight, we have the stunning bright, nearly full moon lending us her glow, so that we may sit in it, and reflect on cycles, and the nature of transience, and feel inspired to know and love ourselves just a little bit better, so that the world as a whole can shine ever brighter.
May we all bask under the magic of this full supermoon, rest easy, and bathe in wisdom, love and compassion!
Who knows if the moon’s / a balloon, coming out of a keen city / in the sky – filled with pretty people?
My Street Japan. DAY 6. Tammy T. Stone
This is what I see looking up and to the right from in front of my apartment. Except in colour. I can read one of the words up there, and it says “home” …
Isn’t it interesting that we rarely like to see a grey, hazy day, but are so attracted to the stark world of hue-less black-and-white? Does the scene come alive in monochrome, or make one nostalgic? It’s a mysterious effect, black-and-white …
My Street Japan. DAY 5. Tammy T. Stone
September is typhoon season in Japan, and the weather is wildly unpredictable, and also rather rain-heavy. Nagoya is a fairly moderate place to live, climate-wise, so our rain is usually a steady drizzle – my heart always goes out to those affected by the eye of the storms …
I was honing my lens in on the beautiful raindrops on this nearby tree (as the tree begins to withdraw into itself, this autumn …) when my peripheral vision caught the woman walking into my frame. I love that we can see her figure, and that of the umbrella, as she ambles down the street with her shopping carriage.
Tammy T. Stone
To allow our selves to be loved by others can be so much harder than to love, to receive, so much more difficult than to give. We also know that we can’t really come into the full blossoming of love if we cannot hold love for ourselves … this poem emerged on a day of struggling to feel in my heart what my head understands through other means.
The Song of Love
by Tammy T. Stone
Sometimes I lose sight
Of how mountains need no
Grass never wavers and
The ocean has never
There is another truth,
Harder to remember than
That those with whom
Love has grown
Will not stop
They will not stop
Waiting for me
To the song they
Hold in their hearts for me,
Loud and resonant,
A song that came into
Long before I could hear it,
And rests in gentle remain
Every time I forget how
*This poem was originally published on Women’s Spiritual Poetry.