Moon River by Audrey Hepburn except its 11:30 at night and raining outside your midtown New York apartment, and you’re listening to it on vinyl while flipping through other records and nursing a whiskey on the rocks.
It seems we need someone to know us as we are – with all we have done – and forgive us. We need to tell. We need to be whole in someone’s sight: Know this about me, and yet love me. Please.
“The folklore among knitters is that everything handmade should have at least one mistake so an evil sprit will not become trapped in the maze of perfect stitches. A missed increase or decrease, a crooked seam, a place where the tension is uneven – the mistake is a crack left open to let in the light. The evil sprit I want to usher out of my knitting and my life is at once a spirit of laziness and of over-achieving. It’s that little voice in my head that says, I won’t even try this because it doesn’t come naturally to me and I won’t be very good at it.”
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Kyoko Mori, ‘Yarn’
That last phrase especially – “I won’t even try this because it doesn’t come naturally to me and I won’t be very good at it.” It really is like some kind of all-encompassing evil spirit sometimes.
Yakushima Island, Japan, is home to some of the oldest patches of forest in the world and listed as a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site. Made famous through the animation film of Hayao Miyazaki: Princess Mononoke, the visual reality of Yakushima seems almost as unreal as the movie.
We Are What We Feel 