There is a time in late spring where women weave through flowers. Kimonos of color mirror the latest bloom in silk stitches. The trees are in celebration, decorating Kyoto with a sea of cherry blossoms.
One morning in Kyoto, I set out to explore the famous torii of Fushimi Inari-Taisha Shrine. I woke at 5am and put my body on auto pilot, following my phone’s directions to the nearest station that headed there. Few people stood on the platform as the melodic chimes signaling a train approaching rang out. I boarded and sat alone on a bench as I watched the skyline of the city fly by in the morning light. Blocks of cream and blue blurred by as my gaze lost focus in my sleepy mood.
One rainy day in Japan, I became a ghost of white from another time. I floated through sliding doors and knelt in layers of red silk with a small smile on lips of the same color. I held a fan up delicately into the air and gazed out the window at the rainy sky of Kyoto. When one thinks of Geisha, an era of times past comes to mind and yet the tradition lives on here still. Geisha are the embodiment of Japan.
Enjoy this Kyoto movie I created during the two weeks I visited. I was lucky enough to see the city in every stage of the cherry blossom season, from their buds about to open to the blankets of petals fallen on the ground.
When I was a child, my parents gave me a small porcelain statue of a geisha. It belonged to my father’s mother who passed away before I could form a memory of her. The statue was all white with pale blue and pink markings. The geisha knelt with a small drum beside her as if she were about to play it. Her hair curved high above her head in a beautiful sweep and a small dab of color formed tiny heart shaped lips on her face. That one impression of a beautiful culture so different than my own, planted a seed in my child’s heart, growing a love for all things Japanese.
Long ago in Japan, a deity appeared on Mt. Mikasa riding a white deer. For centuries after his visit, deer were seen as messengers of the gods and to this day are protected under a national treasure status. Nara is the present day area where these once sacred creatures roam.
I arrived in the mighty metropolis of Tokyo after a sleepless ten hour flight from Australia. Dazed by the bright morning light, I heaved my bags through a sea foreign faces. Unknown to me, I was walking into a spring holiday and people had flocked to the Asukasa area to celebrate. It was one of those rare, first warm days where everyone feels the need to escape outside. The change of season finally sets people free from winter’s cold confinement.
Kyoto is in a flurry over spring. Each day more blossoms open and soon the sakura will be in full bloom, spreading a pink blanket of beauty over the city. I thought I would share a poem by E.E. Cummings that captures the light feeling that is floating in the air and the excitement of the season.
Today is my last day in Tokyo. My days have been spent in awe of this enormous but wonderful city. I walk until my body tells me I can’t walk anymore. After the sun sets beyond distant skyscrapers, my nights are filled with the moody glow of paper lanterns and dimly lit alleyways.