Jim Grisanzio

In Nozawaonsen the water and the air are clean and the people are quiet and friendly. There are hot springs all over the place and things are just naturally calm. You don’t mind leaning back and breathing it all in very deeply. In Tokyo that’s a tad more difficult.

Just some random images of Tokyo from the bus on the way to Narita last week.

I’ve never been to Tokyo Sky Tree. Some day I suppose. But I hope I’ll still prefer Tokyo Tower. There’s obviously much more history in the old tower. And I love how it just sits in the middle of the city right along with the rest of the mess. It doesn’t really call that much attention to itself. Very different from other such structures that come to mind.

Walking up in the mountains you’re bound to find a bit of road kill out in the middle of nowhere.

I used to think this stuff curbed creativity but I’ve come to see it’s simply common courtesy.

People with style just stand out …

Four random shots looking out of Digital Garage in Tokyo.

After a long night on Thursday I finished my last conference call with the Americans around 3:30 a.m. and got to sleep around 4 a.m. Usually I meditate to help release the stress of the day and ease me into the unconsciousness of sleep. Anyway, around 4:20 we had another earthquake. There have been about 10,000 quakes and/or aftershocks since 3/11 last year, and I sometimes think I’ve felt every single one. Obviously not. Most you don’t feel at all. But the bigger ones sometimes get to your nerves depending on your mood. And they certainly remind you that it’s easy for tens of thousands of people to die jet quick in these things.

This one was a M5.1, which is a moderate shaker by Japan standards but it followed the M6.9 and M6.1 quakes the day before. A trend? Those bigger quakes were further away so we didn’t feel too much, though they did set off our quake alarm, which is always charming over dinner. But the 5.1 the other night felt like it was right across the street. Everything shook violently. But briefly. No warning alarm. Too close. It sounded loud, too. We all shot right up. Generally, the quakes are more gradual and increase and then decrease. This one was a sharp jolt. A punch. And then it was gone. I’m used to more graceful movements over longer periods of time because I feel most of the quakes at work 21 floors up where things can whip for quite a while.

Now, we’ve all learned to take these things in stride since 3/11, obviously, but for some reason this one got to me. I just let out a big sigh after it was over and rolled over and thought that it won’t be long before we all die in a really big quake. That’s probably not too uncommon for people in Japan to think these days, but it’s new for me. But here’s the catch: I didn’t care. It just didn’t matter anymore. I realized — finally, I guess — that there are some things that are just out of my control. With that I fell asleep and rested well. How much I’ve changed.

I’ve often wondered what the train conductors carry around in those suitcases. Track maps? Secret codes?

It’s nice taking the late train. Fewer people. Lots of space. No need to rush.

Riding Japanese trains is generally a pretty quiet experience. Most people have manners. But in case they forget from time to time, all the trains have these handy dandy “manner mode” and “off” signs to remind everyone. So, basically, shut up. Imagine giving these signs to American politicians to take around on their various propaganda campaigns? Should quiet the country right down, eh? Yeah, probably not.

Lovely messages for those lost one year ago today …

Some flexible pavement from an unsettled earth underneath. It’s good to bend.

“Before 3/11, we were totally unprepared.” Former Prime Minister Naoto Kan on Fukushima.

Some days in Tokyo just feel very dark …