heavy lifting

Archaeology. You can tell a lot about the current projects, lifestyle, and clutter, by this little screenshot. Bonus points for identifying the handwriting.

I want to thank those dozens of brainwashed innocents who put their minds in my hands for a couple minutes each day––because, yes, I am also pretty hard to get into or out of a rut. Exponentialize that with distractions.*

And let me be the first to say, Ari Park is far from a rut. It is my exploration of multilayer Tokyo, like an excavation. Real incidents, visions, memories, fevered dreams. It all winds up in a blur, the dragon eating its tail.

I stopped listening to pundits, I started simply doing. The goal is effortless, concerted. The reality not so bad. I meet my deadlines. And I push myself further. Like  Wong Jack Man sizing up Bruce Lee. Writing is a push against reality as we know it.

The past year I have built a small, dedicated readership that understands what I am attempting. If this is not jazz, mixed with the folkloric and a touch of the wistful (futurist), I do not know what it is. 

I have been putting up sections of Ari Park almost daily, from an undisclosed island location. I take these final revisions seriously––almost a rewriting process. In real time. Cowachunga-lite.

Ok, back to the heavy lifting of getting the next Ari Park section in the air.

Last section we had a very dark, narrow gaijin house hallway.