See You Soon

Back to Korea, back to work, back to school, and back to dreams.

Second Impact

Wonder why this ended up in the 50 cent bin.


We drew on free coupon magazines and dropped them off at the next station:


Our creations:





M's dog:



Our last days were the most fun, but muffled by our thoughts of returning to our normal lives.

Ramania

My old boss at the Ramen shop would be proud. I went to the Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum, located in Kumao-san's (and M's) hometown of Yokohama. The inside was a replica of a post-war Japanese town. They had 9 different ramen shops within the museum all with different chefs from different regions.

There was an old toy and candy store, as well as a cork-gun shooting range. Even the sky was painted. It felt like I was really there. There was even a man who juggled while he balanced on a cylinder!

It's only 300 yen to get inside, and all the ramen is top quality. If you're an expert, there is even a guide for each ramen shop, outlining and ranking the spiciness, richness, flavor, etc. I had the recommended Tonkotsu ramen, and it didn't fail to meet my expectations.

Celebrity Penis, Ken Kagami

The highlight of my trip was searching for the artwork of Ken Kagami. He's a little known artist who has done much of the art for the band Deerhoof. Satomi and Ken have been good friends for a long time. I have always been a fan of Deerhoof and admired the artwork for the t-shirts, album covers, and festivals. His artwork is all very provocative. It is flippant towards art, while still having artistic content of its own. It's humorous, but takes itself very seriously. It's simple, but highly complex. He draws pictures of poop, penises, and vaginae.

We went to Taka Ishii Gallery in Tokyo to see some of his statues. When we got off of the train, M said, "Would there be a gallery here?" We weren't sure if we were in the right place. It was a quiet area with nothing special to see, but the directions we had seemed to be taking us in the right direction. We got to where the gallery should be and only found a big warehouse. So, we called the gallery and eventually discovered the gallery was inside the warehouse.

We got in an elevator and entered an extremely quiet, white space, like a sanctuary. We sheepishly asked how much the entrance fee was at the door, and they told us it was free. We looked at the other artist on display, but didn't see any of Kagami-san's art. We asked them if he was still displayed here, and to our great surprise, they said, "What do you want to see?"

"If you could please come this way to our viewing room."

We walked into a nice room with chairs, a glass table, many books, and a large flat screen TV on the wall. The only westerner there offered us some tea and water. He told us to sit down and wait as they brought out Ken Kagami's personal drawing portfolio containing all the original art for the Milk Man series, which eventually became a Deerhoof album name. I couldn't believe that I was sitting in front of all the original art and just browsing through it as I pleased. Can you imagine your favorite artist just putting all of his artwork in front of you and then saying, "Take a look?"


The westerner, Jeffrey Ian Rosen, was originally from Houston, Texas. He was living in Los Angeles and was working at a gallery until it flopped. He was out of a job and searching until he got a call from his friend in Tokyo. His friend was opening up a gallery and invited him to work there. And now Jeffrey lives and works in Tokyo at an independent gallery. Living the dream. Jeffrey's story inspired me to keep trying and to make all the friends that I can on the way.

We discussed, seriously, the virtues of Kagami's artwork that we appreciated. We talked about how the work was so aesthetically pleasing and draws you in so easily. However, many people, in the art world and outside, don't appreciate being drawn into what appear to be sophomoric poop and pee drawings.

Another topic that Kagami likes to tackle a lot is celebrity and brand name popularity. It's something that has been redone by all the great pop artists. His series, "Celebrity Penises" and "Celebrity Boobs" really ridicule the idea of celebrity while at the same time idolizing these celebrities in his own bizarre way. He knocks off brand names like "Guess" and replaces them with the Japanese word for ugly, "Buss," or takes a celebrity name like "Justin Timberlake," and simply switches two letters to make "Justim Tinberlake." The small change suddenly exposes that it's just a name, and almost makes the reader feel foolish for recognizing it.

Jeffrey and I discussed his obsession with sexual acts displayed through children's stuffed toys and plastic dolls. I told Jeffrey that I thought his artwork was easily disregarded due to the humorous twist, but that he was making a serious statement that is easily forgotten about children. Society regards people as sexual beings only after they reach an imaginary line that society has deemed acceptable. For most countries that is around 18 years old. However, we are constantly changing sexual beings from the day we are born. So, for instance, his Charlie Brown and Snoopy series, take all your favorite childhood characters and totally pervert them. It destroys your image of purity and asexuality from these characters and forces you to recognize a sexuality that is with all of us from the day we are born. Maybe you think that two stuffed toys 69'ing each other is something reserved for the most base of philistines, but in this case, I think it is misunderstood genius.

Another artist that deals with taboo sexuality is Nobuyoshi Araki. Again, someone that I have admired for a long time. However, just like Ken Kagami, if you are a fan, to the mass public, you're questionably perverse.


It was incredible to sit down in front of the original drawings and sculptures and be able to geek out about it for an hour. After that, Jeffrey told us that most of Kagami's art was in storage now, but that he owns a used clothing store. It's open most of the week and we could actually meet him there!

So, the next morning we journeyed to "The Strange Store."


Everything seemed too easy. Should you be able to just catch a bus and walk ten minutes to meet your idolized celebrity god? Here I was walking down the street to meet someone who had before felt so far away and disconnected from reality.


It was in an apartment complex on the third floor. We walked inside.


I asked in Japanese, "Excuse me, but are you Ken Kagami?"

"Hai."


He was there, and he was a really nice guy. He was just a guy with a t-shirt and a hat on. He sold clothes, drew pictures of poop, and lived life how he wanted. After leaving, I thought, "This is for me."


The store also sold hand-drawn merchandise for his graffiti crew "D.F.W." (Down for Whatever), featuring swirly poos wearing cool sunglasses.


I bought a 1 out of 50 special edition, hand silk-screened "Milkman" t-shirt.


On the back, Ken drew my penis.


This was one of the defining points of my life. It was in the store, shaking his hand, that I decided, "I can do this." I want to thank Ken Kagami for his inspiration.

You can click on my penis to follow his blog.

Dork Dreams

I went to all the necessary geek-out places in Japan. First was Akihabara. This was a gadget freak's wettest fantasy.


If you like computers, they've got that.


If you like video games, they've got that.


If you like anime porn, they've got that.


If you like toys, they've got that.

If you look like you just crawled out of a cave. You'll probably end up here in Japan.


After that, I headed to the Mecca. My childhood was wasted on it, so I knew had to at least stop by and pay my respects. I hopped on a train and stopped in Hamamatsuchou. There is the Pokemon Center, the official headquarters of all Pokemon merchandise. Inside a tiny boy's head was exploding all over me. I played it cool, though.

In Japanese: "Do you think this backpack would fit my little brother? He's 8 years old."

Thought process: "Do you have this in an XXXL size?"

At the cash register: "This is for my little brother."

Thought process: "Maybe Jeremiah doesn't need the backpack and the stuffed toy. I could just keep this..."


Finally, M and I headed to a Taito Game Center. We took Purikura booth pictures and I hopped inside a futuristic pod and fought in two hyper-realistic Gundam battles. Many of the people in the arcade were full grown men in suits slamming their digital cards onto screens which allowed them to battle on RPGs.


"I feel sorry for these misunderstood, maladroit misanthropes," I thought, as I pulled on my Pikachu suit and got ready to pose for the camera.

Harajuku

Summer Festival

M and I decided to visit a traditional summer festival. It was really small and everyone fit into one block. It was beautiful and the cool breeze seemed to sway the dancers back and forth. The food was delicious, fireworks were in abundance, and everyone was in good spirits. It felt like a summer back in Indiana.




We asked a few old ladies dress in Yukata to take a picture of M and I together. I knew I had made a terrible mistake when one of them confirmed with me in the sweetest voice which button was the "shoot" button.




Taiko drums pounded a steady rhythm and slowly faded as we walked back to the train station.

Yokohama

I had a horrible night two nights ago.

I was in Shinjuku looking for a place to have a quick drink and a chat before I headed home. After being bombarded with offers for sex, I retreated to a hole in the wall on the second floor called "Psy Bar" which played requests for songs. I had them play Talking Heads and drank a Jagermeister and Ginger Ale. The bartender's name was Toru and we both loved Crystal Castles. He told me about a great electronica club in Shibuya where he saw them live. His shoes had black and white fur all over them. We added each other on Facebook and said we would go to a club if we had time. I talked to a middle aged woman who told me how she saw Aerosmith in concert in Japan when she was younger. She complimented me on my Japanese. Then, a drunk guy gave everyone at the bar candy and helped me find out the last bus for Yokohama.

I ran to the station and caught what I thought was the right bus, but it turned out that the line cut off the last end of it's stops at that time. So I got off in a town called Kamata. From there, my only choice was to take a Taxi. As soon as you get in you're $7 down. Yokohama was 14km from Kamata and I had no idea what M's address was. She was asleep and I couldn't contact her.

I got to talking to the bus driver and it turns out he was half-Korean! He knew exactly where Changwon was. I was so surprised. We talked about delicious Korean food. He told me his father is Korean, but he lived in Japan all his life. He helped me look around for M's house, because I knew it was near a school, but I didn't know which school. We tried two schools and failed. The meter was at $75, so I decided just to get out of the taxi. Feeling miserable about wasting almost 1/5 of my very tiny travel budget, soaked in sweat, sticky, and tired, I wandered around Yokohama for an hour at 2 AM.

I was cursing, kicking, and having multiple freak outs down quiet, narrow streets in the middle of the Japanese countryside. Finally, I found a gas station and used my minimal Japanese skills to ask if they knew which school that the 74 line went to from Tsunashima, and if they knew where that school was from here. It was a total long shot, but luckily he had the internet, and we eventually we found out where it was located. He printed off a map for me. I said, "Thank you," and, "I'm sorry," a thousand times.

He asked me, "Aruku no?" (Are you walking?)

"Hai."

"Kekko aru yo." (It's pretty far, you know.)

"Hai."

So, I began to walk. It took me 15 minutes to get to the closest landmark on the map, so I realized that this was an hour or hour and a half walk. I got in another taxi and gave it another shot. The driver was extremely kind and we found the school in the map. I dished out another $12 and said goodnight.

I called M, because I was still lost, then after another long walk, I found M's apartment. I've never been so glad to come back home. It was 3 AM. Lost in Translation? No, actually. Lost in the middle of nowhere? Yes.

Lesson learned: Write down the information before you leave!

Shinkjuku: Balls to the Wall

Saturday I met my old friend and alumnus, Tsukasa, in Shinjuku, Tokyo. He took a 2 hour bullet train trip just to see me. It cost him the equivalent of $200, and that really meant a lot to me. He showed me around the area.

Shinjuku has a reputation as a city that never sleeps. Anything you want to do (or have done to you) can be found in Shinkjuku. We walked down the love hotel streets to see the architecture.

"If you see two people, you can asume they are about to or just finished doing something. If we walk here together, people might think we`re doing something," said Tsukasa.

Then we walked down the narrow, brightly lit avenues. Tsukasa told me that because of the earthquake, Japan is trying to conserve energy, so many of the neon lights that I love so much were turned off. Normally, he said, it looks like daytime all the time.


We ate ramen, which is all I`ve been eating since I got here, and filled each other in on the last two years we missed. Then we went to find a good place to have a beer. As we searched, we were bombarded by Japanese men and the even more persistent, African men, trying to get us to drink (among other things) with girls. The Africans won`t take "No" for an answer, so I just let Tsuakasa do the talking and pretended I wasn`t American.

One Japanese guy approached me, but then switched to English, "Sex? No?"

All the guys and girls in Shinjuku look the same: dyed-blonde hair, tanned skin, dressed for success, and asking you into some bar. It`s like Jersey Shore and Amsterdam all bottled and shaken up into tiny streets. The word that best describes this area would be "ayashii," or "sketchy."

We found one of Tsukasa`s favorite spots and got the night going with all-you-can-drink Asahi on tap. Tsukasa ordered two of his favorite dishes, Gyuu no tama and Uma. That`s cow balls and horse to you, and all of it raw. All my vegetarian friends in Chilla-fornia are going to hate me for this one.

The idea of eating testicles was still dominating my mind even after trying it. The flavor itself was not bad at all, but every time I chewed into it, there was still a little synapse shooting off in the back of my head telling me it was wrong. Horse, on the other hand, I`m terribly guilty to admit, was delectable. Experience > Fear.

Here are the testicles:


Here`s the horse:

Around 11, Saki met us for drinks, and we had a mini California State University of Northridge Alumni reunion dinner. Looks like everyone is working their asses off, and everyone has no time for love, girlfriends, or even proper sleep. I asked our waiter, who was not Japanese, if he knew English. He told me in Japanese, that he didn`t understand. Tsukasa had a good laugh at that.

Before we met, we were joking that when two gods meet, the earth shakes. Tsukasa and I laughed the night away, and just around 3AM we had an earthquake. I was freaking out, because all I could think about was the disaster. Tsukasa laughed it off, saying it was as common as ball-hairs to boys. I`m paraphrasing here.


Saki had more work to do, so he left home on the last train. However, true to the reputation of the city, Tsukasa and I didn`t sleep a peep. We had more Ramen for breakfast and said goodbye. Tsukasa was running on 3 hours of sleep, had a 2 hour journey ahead of him, and had to go into work that day. He`s a monster, a machine.


We said goodbye with no room for sadness in our hearts. We both knew it wouldn`t be the last time we would see each other. I guarantee it.