282: writing I can't, don't or won't read

Always I’m thinking about what to write a blog about; every day one needs doing (or at least one for every day).  I used to just start writing and see what came out, or I’d have a kernel of an idea and run with it: Uncle Pak Joon-ho came to me whilst cleaning the disabled toilets in my last (shitty) job (the shittiest job I ever had).  (When I worked in that last job it inspired many morbid and whinging posts about being tired, for example.) 

Now I spend my time wondering about what pictures I can use; books I can scan; postcards, paper ephemera, etc, I can fiddle with; current affairs I can ramble about.  It seems to have become an art blog in that I start with the visuals and then try to come up with some words that vaguely relate.  It’s quite tricky, as if this wasn’t difficult enough.  To top that off, people keep making suggestions about how I could add even more complication, for example adding an original daily illustration to the blog.  I like this idea and may do it; I have a compulsion to fill fill fill fill this blog with stuff stuff stuff stuff.

Like this lot:

These two hand-made old books, bought in a flea market at Shitennoji, Osaka, Japan, are my second favourite souvenirs from my time there (after my octopus tattoo).  They are damaged by damp and some bookworm (that cuts through the pages like cross-sections of an ant farm), extremely delicate, and seemingly impenetrable.  Some younger Japanese people I asked to help me understand them said they couldn’t read them because they were too old-fashioned.  So I have no knowledge of their authorship, origin, age or purpose, let alone any idea as to what they are about.  If anyone can help, please do.  At the moment they sit on my bookshelf, each preserved in plastic cases packed with silica gel.

Might they turn out to be diaries of a redemptive old man, fulfilling his life’s work and finally coming to terms with his personal demons before succumbing to cancer; or is it just an exercise book?  What secrets do they hold?  I don’t know why the thought hasn’t occurred to me before, but my fiancée and I are friendly with the sushi chef at our local Japanese restaurant.  He is of a certain age, and might be able to help unravel the mystery.  I will go and seek out his mystical Eastern wisdom (and his gyoza).

Today is one of those days that everyone is aware of but is not a big deal.  It’s either May Day or Halloween; not sure which, but I don’t think it really matters; they’re both the same really aren’t they.