This is an unfinished drawing I’ve been working on in the art club of the Japanese junior high school where I’ve been working as an assistant English teacher. “You like love,” said one of the students, looking at it. I guess that’s true. I’m posting it now because I’ll probably immediately give it away to one of the students when I finish as I’ve done with previous drawings. It’s really relaxing drawing in that club and it’s nice to be able to pass on some basic knowledge about pencilling and inking, the kind of stuff artbooks are reluctant to divulge. Though a lot of the kids need no help from me, wow. The kinds of drawings I see, I couldn’t have dreamed of producing when I was in junior high. A group of girls sit with me while I draw and one of them likes drawing highly detailed clockwork dolls. All her drawings look like they came right out of a professional manga.
She joked that her friend is famous and, since I can’t use my Japanese (part of my job is to create situations where the kids are forced to use English), I had to forgo the opportunity to use a joke in Japanese I actually managed to formulate, that for all I knew, everyone at the school was famous behind all the masks. It’s a strange new world. It’s gotten so it’s positively weird when I see someone’s face. When I leave school, I see lots of kids without masks while they’re exercising—after two kids in China died from wearing masks while exercising in the heat, policy has relaxed to allow kids to remove their masks while playing sports. It’s almost shocking to see so many bare faces. I have this strange impulse to cry out, “What are you doing, everyone? Hide!”
I’m really not sure how much good any of the rules are, though, when the kids are constantly hugging and wrestling between classes. It’s kind of silly watching their horseplay one minute and then two minutes later watching them observe rules requiring them not to pass papers to each other. Hopefully the virus doesn’t get too widespread in Japan. How do I tell kids not to hug each other?
Here are some of my recent photos:
I think I saw one of the fabled “murder hornets”. It was dead.
Twitter Sonnet #1365
A paper bed confused the back at night.
The ocean spoke of heavy water eyes.
The mammals turned as motion bubbles might.
The darkest depths desist on open skies.
The numbers held in mind were one to ten.
Beyond the teens the dice create a void.
The mountains came to seem a woody pen.
The island served a cake too long enjoyed.
A little water floods the sugar sea.
The desert throat reports a set of sounds.
Entire drums of honey move the bee.
Another buzz precedes the lunar rounds.
The endless trunk contained forever leaves.
Resentful habit slights what thought achieves.