monk on a bike

I just saw a monk on a bike.
There he goes.
Did I just see that?

Elyse and I stand there, jaws dropped, eyes stretched open, gazing at this wobbly figure trembling at the handle-bars. Dude. He's so out of control. His wheels spin rapidly as he rolls down the speckled gravel path toward the garden entry gate.

It is the first of April, 2010, and the morning silence has waned.
8:32 AM: Good morning, RyoAnji!

Three bystanders along with ourselves stand frozen as we watch this figure speed past us. He has warm eyes, Dumbledore round-rim glasses, and looks as though he's just seen a ghost! His olive-toned monk garment flows, billowing sleeves and long tail in the air that sweeps up from beneath him and then past him as he teeter-totters back and forth on his rustic duty bicycle that transports him oh-too-swiftly down the path and totally out of control.

Elyse has my Nikon D50 (aka: my God-given, trusting American friend's treasure. Thanks, Mike) and brings it down from her face while she and I gaze back and forth with eyes wide open at the monk and then at each other in surprise as he rolls down the path straight at us and at what seems like a speed of 20 mph. (Elyse had been setting up to take a picture of me on the path in front of the RyoAnji garden lake.)

The bike is headed right for us!

We each jump back a few steps so that he doesn't hit us. The bike wheels are spinning so fast. It tumbles bump-it-i-ly past us toward the jinja torii gate - where we entered.

There he goes, whizzing past us - a small monk on a bike and out of control.
Where is he going?

He passes us; at this point, he's almost through the gate. Elyse, out of subconscious reaction, nervously snaps a photo of the tumultuous happening from behind. And so, I credit the image for my blog to Elyse.

The scene began to fade in the distance,
It was this shaky event and yet it is burned on my brain. I can never forget it and I will always remember it.

A monk on a bike.
I just saw it.

After his escape, Elyse and I just looked at a each other from across the path. Our mouths, once gaped open wide, turned to a grin beginning at the corner of our lips, and then we burst out laughing. We both smiled. Elyse let out this big, stretched, "Oh my God... ," smiling, then closing her eyes tight and shaking her head while smiling still.

I smiled and felt warm on the inside. My first thoughts were,
A) "I hope he's OK!" And,
B) "That was awesome."

There it was - the raw snapshot that would last with me forever. I also happen to like it!

This is the inspiration for my photo journal - the things I see in life and record in order that I can remember them. These images are of personal significance. My journal is raw - genuine.

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I was a young girl, and one who neither understood nor appreciated Asian art, let alone the culture, nor had I ever really elected to go out of my way to do so. I was familiar with China: Yea, Mulan! Thailand? Hey, I can appreciate tigers and the Bamboo Bistro across the street. But Japan?
I knew nothing. 
Sooo naive.

I was an eager sponge of knowledge then - a Boston academian. Don't let the name of the city and my wordiness fool you. I was a wannabe Boston know-it-all when really I had everything to learn. (And, sure, I'm still a wee bit elitest.)

It was years ago that I faced the big decision to invest in a certain course, and this commitment would change my life: Japanese Art and Culture 326, under the provision of Alice Tseng. This was only the beginning. My commitment to this course represented my good intentions and effort to understand what it was that made the Japanese tradition of art so beautiful, also how this tradition changed and what still makes it so beautiful.

What was it in Hiroshige's woodblock prints, and what spurred the agape expression that possessed some when they stood before a wooden monument that looked so plain and, well, simple?!
I didn't get it, but I do now.

Years went by as I mulled over the idea of whether or not to commit to a ticket to Asia.
The thirteenth of April, 2009, I committed. FINALLY! Thanks, Lowell.

It was set in stone that March 30, 2010 I would fly from LAX to Kansai International Airport. I was open to the experience while I hoped that I would experience something great. I really do feel someone set me up for this in life. I needed it.

My experience in Japan was a huge wake up call, and eventually it led me back into academia. My time there lasted thirteen days and twelve nights.

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Having been and gone, I can think of one word to summarize my time in Japan: Unbelievable.
My time here time rendered some of the best days of my life. Plus, I caught sight of a monk on a bike... who was speeding! How many people can say that? Yep. I'm one lucky girl.