in praise of shadows

(and perfect days)

Feb 20, 2024

Thanks to all who have expressed interest (or registered) for this year’s retreat on Monhegan. Four spots remain for The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea. Early Bird pricing remains in effect until March 15. I hope you’ll join me in September, too!

I’m fortunate to live in the same city as both my adult children. We may not see or speak to each other daily, but I never take their presence for granted, especially now that my son intends to move to Brooklyn. Sometimes, we make actual “on the calendar” plans, but really, there’s nothing better than awakening to a wanna-have-a-dog-playdate text from your kid and then being open to whatever unfolds.

In the run-up to Noah's departure, we’ve been having more weekly dates, and last Wednesday, we saw Wim Wender’s Perfect Days, an quiet meditation on the life of a Tokyo toilet cleaner. Hirayama (portrayed by Kōji Yakusho) is the sort of person we may not give notice to in the world yet who notices everything, finding beauty in unexpected encounters and the simplicity of each day.

While not a man of many words, we get to know Hirayama through the sounds that punctuate and compose his daily routine: the scrape of a bamboo broom on the sidewalk beneath his window, a can of coffee tumbling from the vending machine outside his door; music from the cassettes he inserts into his car in-dash tape player: Patti Smith, Lou Reed, Van Morrison, Nina Simone. And, of course, my favorite—the nostalgic whirl and click from his Olympus Stylus, my beloved, chosen camera in graduate school.

Every day is blissfully, seemingly, the same—until it isn’t. As Hirayama’s exquisite structure ruptures, we are reminded that no matter how hard we try to maintain a semblance of order, ultimately, there is little over which we have absolute control; the living of life can’t help but be one of disturbance. The question is, really, how do we adapt and show up in the fullness of it all?

I won’t give away the plot, but towards the end of the film, there’s a scene with Hirayama engaged in a game of shadow tag with another man—two virtual strangers, playfully allowing the edges of their bodies to blur and merge one into one another, only then to separate and go their own way. So, too, as women, we carry our children, first in utero, the origin of our entanglement, and then how we must learn to let go.

The gentleman asks, “Do shadows get darker when they overlap?”

Hirayama’s response is thoughtful but resolute, “They have to.”

Of course, how can they not? How can our relationships not impact one another regardless of our intentions, even those in which we also strive for independence?

Relationships with adult children are complicated, at least they are for me. I want to spend time with my kids, and I want my kids to want to spend time with me. I also want them to find their way without me always by their side: to learn to trust their own capacity, to struggle, and to succeed on their own. And let’s face it, no matter how intelligent or witty or “cool” I believe myself to be, at the end of the day, they are in their twenties, and I am their mother. This is their time for discovery, as it is supposed to be. Hopefully, I hit the mark more than I miss, but mostly I want Evan and Noah to know I love and support them. Unconditionally.

After the film was over, in the dark of the theater, Noah looked at me and said, “It makes me want to go to Japan all over again.” I couldn’t help but agree. He was remembering a trip we took over a decade ago, one of the last we took together, when our family was still intact.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Japan, too, and that trip specifically. Not only because my brother is currently preparing for a similar trip but because of an essay I recently read, In Praise of Shadows, by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki. In it, the author contemplates the beauty of Japanese aesthetics and the mystery hidden within the significance and the subtley of shadows.

He writes:

There is an old song that says “the brushwood we gather - stack it together, it makes a hut; pull it apart, a field once more.” Such is our thinking - we find beauty not in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, that one thing against another creates.1

Traveling through my memories, I know I’ve certainly had my sorrows but so too my perfect days. Like the shape of a shadow, I hold one within the other because to be “feeling good,” we must feel everything. I can’t change my past, but I can choose where to linger and where to let go, one thing rubbing up and into the other.

What defines a perfect day? Do we find them, or follow them, or simply allow them to be? Watching the film reminded me of moments from my marriage in Japan, not as forlorn but as moments full of the wonder shared together. And while that period of my life may be over I must remember we did have some perfect days.

Perfect Days is available to watch on Apple TV and in the theater. If you’ve seen it, I’d love to know how the film speaks to you.

UPCOMING:

The Faraway Nearby: stillness, story, sea

September 18-22, 2024

Monhegan, Maine

what’s your story? it’s all in the telling… . .

If you have ever wished to experience Monhegan, this retreat is your invitation. With Rebecca Solnit’s poetic memoir as our guide, we will write through the island's topography and the geography of our senses to embody our storied experiences. The Faraway Nearby is for anyone who longs to learn or return to the practices of writing and meditation in honor and celebration of our authentic voices, as can only happen when you find yourself on this artist's island 10 miles out to sea.

2023 retreat highlights • all the details

learn more

Why wait ~ register before March 15 and receive $100. off the cost of your retreat

current contemplations… . ..

I recently attended a powerful exhibition by Meredith Davenport—a project that began with a question: what would you do if you found a Deed to a Human Being in a box of keepsakes among your parents' possessions?

This is in fact what happened to Meredith and the result was Membering, a series of artists books and installations choosing to examine rather than erase the growing knowledge of the ways slavery not was but is a part of her family’s legacy. The work may be about her family, but it is an invitation for all of us to consider what are the secrets and stories within our families—the ones we tell, the ones we keep, and the ones we keep to ourselves.

On Sunday, March 10 at 3:00 pm, Meredith will be in conversation with Hernease Davis, Assistant Curator of Education and Public Programs, Visual Studies Workshop. Unfortunately, I will be out of town, but if you happen to live in Rochester, I hope you can attend the discussion.

Colleen Buzzard Studio 401, 4th Floor, Anderson Arts Building, 250 North Goodman Street, Rochester, NY 1460

also:

While I have yet to reinstall the app on my phone, after my month of pause, I’m beginning to tap my toe back into social media slowly. So far, it’s mostly pictures of paws on IG stories, but who knows? Follow me if you want to see what they’re up to or the current inventory of what Violet has tried to eat:

and finally

coffee naps—how did I not know of this magical thing???

thanks for reading ~ if you enjoy this newsletter, i’d love to know! you can leave a comment, send me a message, or restack/share this post with a friend. you can also subscribe as a free or paid member ~ or manage an existing subscription. as always, i’m grateful for your readership.

In Praise of Shadows, Junichiro Tanizzaki, 1933, Vintage Books, p. 46.