Ephemerality
I haven't decided yet. The flowers are beautiful. The oh so slightly delicate pink, the softness; that's nice. But what is Hanami now?
We live on Sakura dori, literally cherry tree street. Every morning for almost two solid weeks as you stepped forth onto the balcony an explosion of white, with just the slightest hint of pink, would transform even the most stoic Monday frown into a pleasant smile. Yes, I can see why the cherry blossoms bring people from through out the world but there is always more. On Sunday I went to Yoyogi park for my first official Hanami (cherry blossom viewing). I went in with a myriad of ideas. The history of the celebration, the finding beauty in the moment, the transient nature of life. These were the lofty ideals that were spoken of, that supposedly founded the modern tradition. On the other hand, one can't help but hear the stories of today. The drunkenness, the revelry, the insanity and the filth. It created a dichotomy in my mind. A confusing state of affairs.
The whole day, as it turned out, was in fact just that. It was a strange dichotomy. A duality. Perhaps it is the future of the Hanami, a celebration of beauty and depravity. The sight, over the beautiful lake, through a mass of flowers and recently budded maples, was breathtaking; from chest height up. The park was devastated below the waste. The grass was trampled and the now muddy soil was scattered with broken bottles, empty food packets and crows picking the bones of what was left of the night before. There were showers of petals, drifting down among us as we laughed and drank, sharing our space with all. And there were floods of people, shoulder to shoulder, carting boxes of alcohol and laughing like hyenas as they trampled what little green was left in the once resplended park. I had a wonderful time. I laughed, I drank, I ate and I was merry. And I wept for the park too, for the loss of conscientiousness I so willingly, even eagerly became a part of. Is it wrong, to let go, to immerse yourself in both beauty and depravity at the same time? Is it depraved? This excess, this insanity?
I don't know. I haven't decided yet.
I haven't decided yet. The flowers are beautiful. The oh so slightly delicate pink, the softness; that's nice. But what is Hanami now?
We live on Sakura dori, literally cherry tree street. Every morning for almost two solid weeks as you stepped forth onto the balcony an explosion of white, with just the slightest hint of pink, would transform even the most stoic Monday frown into a pleasant smile. Yes, I can see why the cherry blossoms bring people from through out the world but there is always more. On Sunday I went to Yoyogi park for my first official Hanami (cherry blossom viewing). I went in with a myriad of ideas. The history of the celebration, the finding beauty in the moment, the transient nature of life. These were the lofty ideals that were spoken of, that supposedly founded the modern tradition. On the other hand, one can't help but hear the stories of today. The drunkenness, the revelry, the insanity and the filth. It created a dichotomy in my mind. A confusing state of affairs.
The whole day, as it turned out, was in fact just that. It was a strange dichotomy. A duality. Perhaps it is the future of the Hanami, a celebration of beauty and depravity. The sight, over the beautiful lake, through a mass of flowers and recently budded maples, was breathtaking; from chest height up. The park was devastated below the waste. The grass was trampled and the now muddy soil was scattered with broken bottles, empty food packets and crows picking the bones of what was left of the night before. There were showers of petals, drifting down among us as we laughed and drank, sharing our space with all. And there were floods of people, shoulder to shoulder, carting boxes of alcohol and laughing like hyenas as they trampled what little green was left in the once resplended park. I had a wonderful time. I laughed, I drank, I ate and I was merry. And I wept for the park too, for the loss of conscientiousness I so willingly, even eagerly became a part of. Is it wrong, to let go, to immerse yourself in both beauty and depravity at the same time? Is it depraved? This excess, this insanity?
I don't know. I haven't decided yet.
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