In the Mood for Indigo

On the market in Sa Pa, Vietnam, I strolled down the narrow alleys among a crowd of indigenous women in different shades of blue.

Suddenly there were these Black H'mong girls in front of me. They seemed enchanted by the sky, gazing upon it solemnly, as if there was a god smiling at them.

When the rice-scented breeze rustled through their tribal garb to lap against their sun-kissed skin, I quietly took a picture of them and immersed myself in indigo melancholy.

photo by della, vietnam

Perspective 觀點

New York Downtown Style: Chinese version vs. Taiwanese version

The old Egyptians drew the head in profile but rendered the eye as if it were on a front view – the body is more recognizable from front than side. However, arms and legs are more clearly described from the side.

Cubism combined glances taken from different angles at different moments into a single composition. A picture that wasn’t meant to look like anything but itself.

My first book New York Downtown Style (bilingual), first introduced to the reader in 2006, is now released in China with a new design by the Hong Kong born graphic designer Lu Zhi-Chang (Simplified Chinese: 陆智昌). Looking back and forth between the first and second covers, I could sense the difference from each other in composition, temperament, and tempo. In Lu's work (the left image), forms are more solid, enigmatic, and cooler. And to Lou Hsin-Mei (Traditional Chinese: 羅心梅), her approaches are more joyful , funkier and sweeter.

Different cultures, different times, different designers – different points of view.

Aimai (曖昧), the Ambiguous Mind

Ambiguity is the hallmark of Kenzaburo Oe (大江 健三郎), Japan's second Nobel Laureate in Literature. He defines ambiguity as “vague, obscure, equivocal, dubious, doubtful, questionable, shady, noncommittal, indefinite, hazy, double, tow-edged”. In Japan, aimai (Japanese: ambiguity) permeates art, culture, literature and even the language.

The Japanese consider ambiguity a virtue; however, it can cause a great many problems in cross-cultural communication. Unlike Western people strive for certainty and clarity of understanding in everything, the Japanese think that it is impolite to speak openly on the assumption that the party knows nothing; therefore, it is unnecessary to speak clearly as long as the other is knowledgeable.

In Japan, life often has the quality of compromise, and people use many roundabout expressions to decline offers. They take care to maintain a friendly atmosphere and express themselves indirectly. Ambiguity is part of being polite, of maintaining a harmonious ambiance. Saying “no” is considered impolite, so saying “yes” doesn’t really mean “yes”. That is the essence of “aimai na gengo” (Japanese: ambiguous language).

Linguistic ambiguity is the source of friction and misunderstanding, but also a trigger for the creative mind. Unveiling the metaphor of a piece of poetry or of a movie requires a lot creative effort. Interpreting the artist’s mind through the lens of personal thoughts and experiences gives rise to new ideas that were never intended by the original author.

一期一會: 給我摯愛的讀者

雖然還沒看到我的新書「瓶裝記憶：京都之水」的最後成品（正由臺灣飛往芬蘭的路途中），但是摯愛的臺灣讀者, 我卻樂於暇想在翻書聲伴讀下的你，眼睛是如何好奇地隨它的文字遊移；鼻子又是如何小心翼翼地嗅聞它的京都氣味；當你的手指任意隨性地觸摸它的紋路時，臉部顯現出或驚喜，或感歎，或搐眉，或認同的表情。你知道嗎？由衷感謝你給我這個機會與你一起經驗一期一會的美妙。以下節錄該書短文「一期一會」，也與我海外的讀者們共享：

我得坦承告白一件事，為了吸引你的目光，我熱切地寫下「瓶裝記憶：京都之水」。如此這般，我希望能深得你心並帶你進入我的世界。我承認，我的體內蘊藏著多面性──渴望人們的注目，但不久後又想逃脫躲避那些視線。即便如此，我還是滿心虔誠地學習並親身體驗「一期一會」。

「一期一會」這個概念由千利休提出，他是一位對日本茶道有深遠影響的禪宗和尚。 「一期一會」（按：一期一会）的意思是「一生一次的相遇」，這個字詞具體化了千利休的禪宗信仰──人們的相遇無法複製，所以不可褻瀆。「一期一會」的生活哲學態度是對人生的無常瞭然於胸。我也試著更加心懷感激，徹底盡情地活在當下，避免活得跟螞蟻一樣庸碌，忘記了人與人之間那誠懇真摯的互動。親愛的讀者，這也是我想要和你一起分享的。你知道螞蟻遇見同類時是怎麼「應對進退」的嗎？牠們會暫停，打招呼，再前進。日復一日。可是，我們是人，為什麼我們要遵從所謂的社會禮儀規範，循規蹈矩，墨守成規呢?

每個人的舉手投足、一字一句、四目交接，在在勾勒出對方聖潔的輪廓及眼前一瞬間的永恆無限。如果我們能體會每次的相遇都有可能是最後一次，那麼人生中就不會有「錯過」。

我對「一期一會」深信不疑。想想，我不僅意識到自我的存在，而且也注意到這世界還有一個你，這是何等的美妙！因此我願意敞開胸懷，與你分享我真實的一面──嗨！你這陣子都在做什麼呀？

Ichigo, Ichie

I have a confession to make. I love to write this book in order to attract your attention. And by so doing, I hope to reach out to you and to let you into my mind. I have to admit that I am a concoction of signs – I long to be seen, but then I lose my nerve. However, I strive for the learning and experience of Ichigo Ichie, a concept from Rikyu Sen, a Zen Buddhist who had a profound influence on the Japanese tea ceremony.

Ichigo Ichie (一期一会), meaning literally “one time, one encounter,” embodies Rikyu Sen’s ideal that each meeting between people is sacred, for it can never be reproduced. Here is what I want to share with you: the mindset of Ichigo Ichie appreciates that life is impermanent. As a result, I am trying to be more grateful, trying to live more fully in the present moment, and trying to have real human interactions instead of acting like an ant! You know how ants act when they meet comrade they stop, say hello, and continue for the day. But we are human. Why do we have to live strictly by the rules that we have acquired through social constructs – to adhere to and to follow?

Each gesture, each word, and each eye contact of a human being serves to frame the sacredness of the other and the extraordinary gift of now. And if we understand that every encounter may be the last, we won’t miss the chance.

I believe in Ichigo Ichie, and I think it is lovely that I am not only aware of my own existence but also of yours. Thus, I would like to open up and share who I am with you – Hello! What have you been up to?

Are You At Home or Somewhere Else? 你在家還是在外頭？

"How Are You?" vs. "Where Are You?"

Since I have been known as a nomad in my circle of friends, I have noticed that most of the messages from my cell phone usually begin with "Where are you?" instead of "How are you?". Frankly, I have no problem with my dear friends being so getting-to-the-point with me, but I found it amusing that modern cell phones have affected our social exchanges. Just like what the American scientist Steven Pinker claims: "We make tools, and as we evolved, our tools make us".

Giving a choice between ideology and cool design , I usually surrender to the first. The substantial, stocky form of home phones (especially from the 60s) exude a sense of mystery, and offer an unexpected experience. But the light, ever-smaller design of cell phones allow people to be connected when they do not wish to be.

Regardless of how "being connected" has become essential to our idea of lifestyle comfort, we all know that the future is not necessarily better. To me, life would be very dull indeed without mysterious, and what would be left to strive for if everything were known?

Would You Like to Have Some Bubuzuke ?

The people of Kyoto are well known for their ambiguous behavior and way of speaking. They believe that some things are better left unsaid. As a gaijin (foreigner), I am never able to navigate the exceedingly complex social system of Kyoto without some blunders, but I find that the invisible wall of politeness can be charming and intriguing. The wall is there, but it is soft and padded.

The people of Kyoto often use non-verbal cues in embarrassing social situations. For example, when a Kyotoite asks if a guest wants to eat bubuzuke, known outside Kyoto as ochazuke, it really means that the person has overstayed or shows up at the wrong time, i.e., at dinner time, and is politely asked to leave.

Kyoto has a unique culture of idiosyncrasy and ambiguity. The people of Kyoto had lived under changing regimes from Kyoto to Tokyo, and they had to protect themselves and ensure their survival, so they tend not to show their stance clearly and to attack others openly. This nurtures individuality and diversity. While most of Japanese society and its organizations value harmony over individuality, Kyoto’s individual-minded entrepreneurs have been able to go their own way on their own turf. But how can we see through what Kyoto people really have on their mind? “If you respect the culture, then you can tell eventually,” said Takeshi Wakagabayashi-san, founder and designer at Sou.Sou , during our interview in a small, cozy coffee shop near Nishiki Market .

Apart from Ichigen-san (the first-timer), the bubuzuke invitation is another exclusive Kyoto tradition. My Kyoto-born girlfriend Yoshiko-chan told me this tradition has mostly disappeared, but when people want to tease someone from Kyoto, they would imitate the soft and polite Kyoto accent to say, “Would you like to have some bubuzuke?”