The slow regard for silent things or Things I never thought I’d say – “You’re french, celebrating an american holiday, in an irish pub in Kyoto.”

At 7pm I was laying in my hotel bed (royoken futon on tutami matt floors), exhausted but not tired. I didn’t want to eat, it was very cold out, I didn’t pack winter clothes, and the sun had said good bye for two hours already.

I had tackled another lovely hike to the top of mount Inari and the 1000 vermilion gates that lead you to the shrine. This might have been my favorite thing so far.

I had already walked the city for some time but it was cold out and my back pack was heavy. I checked into my Japanese hotel and found my traditional room charming until I realized there were no showers and the cleansing option as the public baths in the basement. (the men and woman bathe separately.) I found I didn’t have it in me for this last adventure/new experience. I needed my cleansing process to be restorative and I anticipated this to be more exhausting with yet another comfort zone being challenged.

It was only 5pm and I opted to find a massage parlor as my pack and all the walking made me body ache.

First of all, of note – I feel that I need to showcase the manor of which I travel. My goal when visiting a city is to absorb, be respectful and participate. I usually try to dress like I am a local, I take public transportation, and do as I am able, understand. In Europe I have been able to get by with these ideals quite well. Here in Japan, I stick out like a sore thumb. It is literally impossible for me to blend in. Kyoto has had a lot more tourists then what I saw in Tokyo, but most days I am the only anglo saxon person I see all day. The culteral differences are just that. It is a whole new world. And while it is delightful and intriguing I find I do not know “how to be” at any given moment.

So I walked into the massage parlor and pointed to a picture of a woman having her bare back massaged. Somehow I agreed to a certain amount of time and after a few minutes I was shown into a room and given a pair of weird panties, a pair of drawstring shorts an a tshirt to put on. At this point Im wondering what kind of massage I’m going to get or if at all as someone comes in with a bowl of hot water for my feet to be put in. I of course am just enjoying the ride but I really do want a massage so I ask the girl who doesn’t understand me. she disappears and another girl shows up and then tells me to undress and keep my weird panties on and lay face down through a version of charades and giggles from both of us. She leaves the room and I undress. I realize their tables are not like our tables back at home and I’m unsure if I’m supposed to be on top of the sheets, under the sheer sheet or under the towel on the bare bench. I struggle for a moment with how to proceed and then decide on under the sheer sheet since all I have is my weird undies on. I guessed wrong. She came in and gasped a little (at least I think. I was laying facedown with my bare backside+ weird panties to be viewed) and added a towel on top of me. I wanted to laugh so hard but it was an open air parlor and didn’t want to disturb anyone. As I held in my laughter it slowly turned into tears and I lost my control to keep them in as she began to massage aching back.
I lay there for the next eternity letting each tear take acknowledgments of my discomforts for the last 5 days of not knowing, the expenditure of energy in figuring things out and being careful to be gracious and kind to everyone around me. Let me tell you, this takes it out of you.

Post massage (which proved to be great) I popped into a restaurant where I was able to figure out the touch screen ordering system and leaned on the example photos and guessed as to the ingredients of what exactly I just ordered. Except french fries. I know it’s cheating to order these when I should be trying new things but I needed a comfort good. As I sat down I noticed a anglo saxon man sitting two seats over looking tired and ragged as myself. Without words I felt I understood his exhaustion and in my head I found myself wanting to ask him to join me for a beer. There was no way for me to conveniently do this because of the layout of the seats and the noise level of the place. So I sat at my seat staring at the wall in front of me waiting for my food to arrive. I felt that he noticed me too and for a second our camradary was shared – ” the look book for ‘lost in translation’ Two foreigners meet and find consolation with each and proceed together with their naïvety of the culture and language”. I felt his gaze again as I dug through my pocket and hoped he would say something. I gave him a half glance and smile that said ” I too am traveling alone in this foreign place. While I am brave and embracing all these things, I welcome your camradary ” … At that moment my french fries were plopped in front of my face and I feel their presence broke the spell between us. I was no longer the wayfarer pioneer but the young lost thing ordering french fries for dinner. Before I even popped a fry into my mouth he was at the door hat in hand and as the door shut my fish head soup and what I think is chicken over rice is also placed in front of my face.

I didn’t want to go out drinking, which is a sure way to meet people. But I also didn’t want to call it a night at only 7pm. I knew if I had a travel partner I would be in a bar somewhere drinking sake or the like so I decided to just do it. It is hard traveling alone as a female! You are either perceived as hitting on people when you interact with the or being hit on. Maybe It’s just my perspective.. maybe. I found a bar and ordered a Japanese beer. I sat there for awhile listening to the couple next to me speaking english. Expats.. but for some reason I didn’t feel like intruding into their catching up session. Not long after I heard someone ask “where are you from?” and I turned to find a geeky looking Japanese guy asking inquisitively. His name is Jun he comes to this area to practice his english on foreigners. He had many questions and each time I answered his eyes would pop wide with excitement (which made me laugh). I got to ask him how to say “cheers” and “lets take a selfie” and it felt nice to chat with someone as I realized it had been a few days since I had had that ability. I finished my beer and said good bye. It was stil only 9:30pm and Halloween night. They city was bustling with the Saturday night fever and despite the cold the youth were out in force.
I opted for one more stop since it was on the way and I found myself walking into a very packed, halloween filled irish pub. I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer and then found a corner to observe. There was a costume contest and I had arrived just in time for the judging. There was a white guy trying to get past me and I was tired of waiting for conversations to happen and this point and so I jumped in and asked him where he was from. “I am french” he says and I laugh myself silly….

Heda Ryokan

I’m having trouble finding the words that aptly express my time in this place. I was there for less than 24 hours. Although what I felt within one hour of arriving didn’t leave me until I stepped back off the train in Mushima.

5 hours of travel time to get there. The JR ticket girl did her best to explain to me how to get there and then asked me “why” I was going to this obscure little town. I was doubting my decision when I finally made it to the bus and we started this windy 50 minute trip through the mountains. It wasn’t until we reached the peak and all of a sudden mount fuji’s peak was staring me in the face I decided the bus ride was worth it. As we started our descent into the port of Heda I got my first glance at it’s tiny cove hugged by small weathered buildings and small fishing vessels speckling the seafoam green ( i never understood the true meaning of the name for this color until now) water. My car sent from the Ryokan was waiting for me and the driver asked simply “Sarah-san?” And motioned to the car with a head nod and turn.

The very short drive to the other side of the port gave me the full view of this little town. As we drove past the marina I saw the perfectly framed view of the peak and I knew I would come back for this photo.

I had arrived in time for sunset and my favorite time of day. Dinner was scheduled for 6pm and so I had two hours to explore and enjoy the perfect fall weather. I walked along the beach through the marina and was greeted by a few locals enjoying the lazy Sunday afternoon. A small boat full of men pulls in and they carry their day’s catch ashore. An old woman hanging her peeled persimmons to dry on the same line share by her laundry. Two older woman stopped talking mid sentence to watch me pass and I greeted them with a “Kernichiwa” and a smile and they giggled and replied in kind. I sat on the sea wall taking it all in as couples walked hand in hand past me to the lighthouse. I was giddy and couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face. “Pinch me” and photo sent to my gfs back home.

Complimentary whiskey and ocean view in the lobby with the most comfortable chairs I’ve ever sat in. I look around and almost everyone (maybe 20 people total) is i the summer kimono that I saw in my closet. I go to the bus boy who speaks great english and ask him if I’m supposed to wear it. “It is as you like” he says and I press him and ask him what is normal. “yes, it is normal to wear it” and I happily bounce back to my room to get dressed. I feel a little silly when i see myself in my mirror but I’m loving it too. I can’t help laugh at myself with each new encounter with a custom I’m unsure how to maneuver through and I knew dinner would be so as well. I was grateful for the private cubicles that each party was allotted because I’m sure watching me try to eat would have been pure comedy. I was laughing my whole way through it anyhow and despite almost everything being outside my comfort zone I ate pretty much everything of the 12 courses that were served. (Except the things with eyes or mouths, they got quietly set aside).

After dinner I retired to the lobby for another hour and then decided to try the onsen out. It was inevitable and as much as I dislike the idea of being naked with a group I didn’t want to miss out on a cultural experience. I got to the ladies room and found it empty. I wasn’t expecting this and after a few minutes of trying to figure the place out and the lack of signage I could understand I picked up the phone for the lobby asking if the onsen was even open.. Thinking i had come after hours. I had expecting a room full of woman and when i found it empty i was relieved for the sake of privacy.. But then i realized i didn’t know what to do based on expecting to watch and copy others. The lobby sent a woman from the front desk to my embarrassed rescue as we determined the “how and what do” in the onsen for my understanding. Again i laughed to myself at how they must be amused at this lost american.

I want to know people who know magic things or nothing at all. Or my version “I want to see places that contain magic things or else give me nothing at all”

thank god for wifi on my flight from SFO>NRT.I was so ill prepared for this very first segment of my journey. I was able to spend the 10 hours of flight time researching even how to get about once I landed. 2.5 hours of train time and I arrived Tuesday the following day that I had departed to the small town of Yokosuka (Yokuska) and climbed in the car of my dear friend and older sister to my best friends growing up. She has been here 3 years with her family while her husband is stationed here with the navy.  
I woke up at 4am Monday morning hungover as hell with my intended belongings strewn all over the floor. My roommate had had a dinner party at our place the night before and I had been away in Sacramento for the weekend hugging dear ones and photographing my final fall wedding. I still had many projects still to deal with but at this point with 4 hours until I needed to leave for the airport I had to decide what my priorities were going to be. I made it to the airport with 20 minutes to spare.  
The train system here is crazy. Maybe that is mostly because I don’t read Japanese characters and so there is little chance to really interpret or guess as you go along. I need to find myself a map today… that may really help me out in my intentional wanderings. So thankful for the kind japanese people who have helped me unasked along the way so far. I guess my confusion was evident.
It’s a funny feeling being the only anglo-saxon on the train, let alone the only one you’ve seen all day.  I must remember to smile.  I noticed two girls sneakily snapping my photo on the trai. haha..  I stick out like a sore thumb.
Tomorrow I head to Kyoto/Osaka and really dig into Tokyo next week.
until then.. day 2 begins.

Crawling into bed after the longest week. My legs are dying from my run and leg day, my body is tense from the “get it done” adrenaline, and my to do list has dwindled down to a final editing task that I’ll bang out on Sunday night. So there I have it. Fully packed, editing completed and still two full days before I make my escape. Is this what adulting looks like? Gold stars for me. I’m making breakfast for my girlfriends and a final wedding to be shot tomorrow. My eyes can hardly stay open..

this week was

..  Catching up with my Sacramento people.  It made my heart so happy to see so many faces..  But I didn’t see them all.  There is never enough time. 

… Vaccinations. Visa applications and melt downs.

…  9 days without alcohol. I even attended two happy hours and a concert!  This is possible.

… 9 days with nausea.  I wish I understood my body better. 

… So many text messages from exes.  Count them.. 5! The satisfaction of no response is mine. Ugh.

..  Therapy. So needed. I spent most of the time with her trying to explain to her why I  convinced I’m awful.  Two dear friends both told me I need to relearn how to love myself.  Why am I so full of self loathing?

…5 shoots. 3 weddings. 2 weddings edited and three sessions edited.  Jesus.

No wonder my mood is cracked.  A stressful last seven days indeed.

Fall is here in Paris. The last few days have been bright and warm on your face but still cool enough to be snug in your coat.

24 hours at the fairy farm and we stepped back out of our dream into bustling grungy paris with only the mud on our boots to remind us that it was in fact real. (Amel and I) We ate our crepes and recounted the experience both asking ourselves if that was a life we could live. After naps and refreshing ourselves and we arrived at an artists squat celebrating art/music/poetry and spent the evening doing the social dance of kissing cheeks and missing lips. I’ve been printed (again) in PLU’s magazine and two of my all time favorite photos. Two that represent my personal growth and journey. I am so proud to of myself to embrace these moments and now have it there for the rest of world and time to consider it.

Last day in Paris.. I’m off to photograph a sweet family I met through the photography world (in romania.brizilian.livesinSwitzerland). This is my international life… This is my life. My world is so (grand) small.

It’s Monday and I started the day off with a massage. My body aches and my phone tells me I’ve walked 25 miles in the last 3 days. Damn.

Three cities, two engagement sessions and a wedding. Planes, trains, buses and automobiles. Exhausting but surprisingly I am able to roll with it without skipping a beat. Funny how more things just make it possible to handle more.

Red eye to Paris tonight. I land and hangout with Amel. I have a loose but set schedule for the week. I can’t wait to see my city again.

Yesterday was a hint of fall and a quiet Sunday in Manhatten. Picnic in central park and Polaroid snap shots at Bethesda’s fountain. Little boats on the water as the sun was getting sleepy and we grabbed a taxi and taco’s on a midtown east rooftop as it went to bed. Never enough time here. I have so many people I didn’t get to see. I don’t return until…. maybe late spring. For sure next August. Sad….

A very tame visit to NYC this time. All work and all walking. haha.. Lovely without the crazy. And that is ok.

36 hours in Boston and I loved it. Shocking? Not really, but I didn’t realized how charming the city really was. I walked 8 hours – starting from Chinatown through the downtown, up to North Side over to water front, down through boston commons followed by some shopping in beacon hill. Took the red line over to Cambridge and saw Harvard and MIT. A walk along the Charles river at sunset topped the day off.

I went out last night to attend a meet up group happy hour for east bay folks. I had been saying to myself for a while now that I need to get to know Oakland myself, without the help of dates. It may offer a more sustaining experience. Meetup.com has been good to me in the past so I jumped in and signed up for as many things as possible. I finally forced myself to go last night. As I was walking up to the bar I realized that I had made it that far but now I was going to have to introduce myself to groups of people as a complete loner. That really is not that easy to do. “Hi my name is Sarah I am new here..” and just smile and laugh and be aloof but engaging. Seems simple right?
My first table was a group of 3 woman – all in their late 30’s. I asked them if they are also there for the meet up – yes but no, but yes. They also were there for a meet up event but not the same one. They were friendly but not.. almost put off by my friendliness. After a few minutes of conversation they disbanded to head home. I made my way over to what looked like a younger group of people and just introduced myself. Turns out there weren’t related to the meet up at all but just work colleagues there for an afterwork drink. They were also wierded out but friendly but were about to leave to and welcomed me to Oaktown. I finally identified the leader for the meetup I had signed up for in the corner talking with a table of 8 people. I walked up and introduced myself and received a few very enthusiastic hellos. I started chatting with them and after about 10 mins one of the ladies turns to me and says “you know there are groups for people more your age”… I realized she was saying I was too young to be hanging out with late 30/ early 40 year olds. ….. And all of a sudden I wanted to go home.
I finished my beer said goodbye to the new faces I had met and then started the walk back to my car. It was a really beautiful evening and as I walked by the Fox theatre the lines of people waiting to get into the show were slowly shuffling by. I spied a taco shop and in a split second decision popped to the other side of the street. I greeted the gal behind the counter with a probably over enthusiastic “hello” as my beer I had just finished had settled inside me. She gave this big yawn at the same moment she went to reply and embarrassed tried to recover with a hello. I smiled, ordered and started to lament lightly to her my awkward evening of the weird unfriendly meetup group. She asked me how long I had been in Oakland and then said to not leave until she can come chat with me. As I ate my tacos she popped by, got my info and said “I’m going to introduce you to some friends”. So sweet! As I walked out of the place with a happy little bounce she came out the side door saying she was off of work and headed home. Our cars were in the same direction so we chatted about Oaktown and this and that as we walked. I asked her if she had been to the starline social club and she said she knew the owner. It was just around the corner so we popped in and grabbed a booth. (NEW FAVORITE PLACE BTW.) Drinks, chats laughs and a few hours later we walked out of there exchanging numbers. Her name? Sarah.

Damnit. 2 am and still not sleepy.

Allowed me the time to reread the last year of my life on this blog.
Synopsis – Paris and travel makes me happy. Dating does not.
haha..

and.. I’m an incredibly emotional being. Can I get a xanax over here? Someone needs to sedate me. Good god..

Also, I like my stories. The way I write them. It seems this style of writing only seems to happen when traveling though.

Also, I need to not be so hard on myself. I have so much to offer. I am not for everybody. But I am a lot to a few people. And that is enough.