Ten yen Fuji, etching
On New Year’s Morning I ride my bike over to Fuji-mi-zaka, Fuji view slope, the last place here that Fuji was still visible from the ground. Fuji has been gone for years. I still make the ride, not in hopes that the buildings that have risen to block the view will have fallen, but out of muscle memory.
I notice that some of the older folks still stop and bow toward Fuji as they pass the top of the slope.
Old habits die hard.
Time to th8nk about a new years card.
After the exhibition I have done a little painting and made a new frame
Another exhibition in the can. This was my first in the pandemic and had a different feel. Less visitors, but the ones that came felt special.
Sitting the exhibition this year gave me a chance to reflect. The paintings turn out to be more about the pandemic than I had recognized or intended. The oils are about places that stood against the pandemic, shops and nature. The ink paintings are about escaping the room that held me zoomed and imprisoned.
This is one reason I don't like to talk about my paintings. I make them but don't make them consciously. I'm not a rational painter. Reasons, intentions are more complicated than I recognize. People see different things in the paintings. Oftentimes they see and know more than I.
The final weekend of the exhibition will begin today!
Last weekend was slow but nice. Some old friends as well as some new faces dropped by. I’m hoping this weekend will be the same.
The exhibition is mostly ink paintings, but the oils seem to be getting more attention, perhaps because I haven’t done much oil painting in the past 30 years in Japan..
It is the finest sort of a day in Yanaka.
Sitting in my exhibition in our lingering pandemic I feel like a wallflower at a dance, wondering if anyone will approach.
It is good to have a cold rainy Friday at the exhibition. It gave me a chance to clean around the edges and get stuff done.
I made a short video of the show.
