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| Yamazaki 苺のショートケーキ / Yamazaki Strawberry Shortcake |
なんと私の住む街では、24日の夜は雨なんだそうです。
先程、近所のセブンイレブンに行ってきたら、苺のショートケーキがずらっと並んでいました。
12月24日には、普段のお弁当コーナーにも上の写真のように並んでいます。
クリスマスをどう過ごすか、では無く、何を食べるか、という事になっていっているようで、少しホッとしました。
ホールケーキって一回では食べきれないし、ラップをして冷蔵庫に入れて置くと、25日の朝早々悲しいんですよね。
25日がクリスマス当日なので、多分ケーキが欠けているのが悲しいし、あんなに綺麗にデコレーションされていたケーキが、どう見ても朽ち果てているようになってお皿の上に乗っているので、昨日の24日って25日の朝にはもうこんなに古びてしまうんだ・・・、と立ちすくむ気持ちになります。
25日の朝早々、古びてしまう昨日のケーキを見つけて少し悲しいのが、なんかもう本当はクリスマスは24日だったんじゃないか？
25日はクリスマスじゃないんじゃないかと、思いたくなるから、写真のサイズがメインになっていっているんでしょう。
たった1日なのに、何を私達は1ヶ月をクリスマスに全力投資していたのかしら？
昨日というより数時間前の24日はあんなに美しかったのに、25日の朝はもう24日は古くなってしまっている。
これが楽しみの賞味期限なんだろうか。
楽しみにしていること全部の賞味期限は、1日なんだろうか？
と思うんですよね。
楽しみにしていたデート。楽しみにしていた映画。楽しみにしていた結婚式。楽しみにしていたキャンプ。楽しみにしていた海外旅行。楽しみにしていた新しいアルバム。
全部が口に入れた瞬間、賞味期限が切れてしまう。
じゃあ、それ自体の賞味期限じゃなく、私達が食べているのは、楽しみにしていること、という時間なのでしょう。
24日という、イタリア製のマーブルで包まれたクリスマスイブという時間なんでしょうね。
24日と25日しか食べられないケーキも、クリスマスケーキという時間なんでしょうね。
今日、何も無かった、という日も時間です。
時間は食べられます。
グッドデザインというパッケージの中に入っているチョコレート、特別な日に、という名前が勝手に付いているデコレーションされた品々。
これらすべて時間を手に取れる、という現象になります。
奇妙な代入数式ですが、この考え方だと少し面白いし、ちょっぴり可笑しくないですか？
私達は決して時間の外に出られないとされていますが、実際は時間という物を手に取って使ったり、口に入れて食べたり、食べ残したり、時間の変化をまた冷蔵庫の中に見たりしてるんですよね。
それじゃあ時間の外に出る必要はありませんよね。
私達はあらゆる時間を品物に代入して、美しく使用しているのですから。
私達こそが、時間をハッキングしているんです。
これは、頭の中にだけある筈の代入数式を、実際にハッキングして、 グッドデザインに変え、手に取り、味わっているという現実が普通に或る、ということです。
”いみじくも学究の徒である”
青い風吹き続ける、
北極星を祝う素敵な名前を持つ庭より、
貴方へ
メリー・クリスマス ！
from BRMC ENAMEL. & Prof.O.
20251225 14:06 文章を直しました。
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| Yamazaki 苺のショートケーキ / Yamazaki Strawberry Shortcake |
Apparently, it's going to rain on the night of the 24th in my town.
I just went to the nearby 7-Eleven, and strawberry shortcakes were lined up in rows.
On December 24th, they're even displayed in the regular bento section like in the photo above.
It seems the focus is shifting from how to spend Christmas to what to eat, which made me feel a little relieved.
You can't finish a whole cake in one go, and if you wrap it and put it in the fridge, it's just sad by the early morning of the 25th.
Since the 25th is Christmas Day itself, seeing the cake missing pieces is probably sad. And that cake, so beautifully decorated, just looks utterly decayed sitting on the plate. It makes you freeze in place, thinking, “So yesterday, the 24th, is already this stale by the morning of the 25th...”
Finding yesterday's cake looking old and sad first thing on the 25th makes me wonder... maybe Christmas was really on the 24th?
Maybe the 25th isn't even Christmas? That's probably why the photo size is becoming the main focus.
It's just one day, but why did we pour our whole month's worth of effort into Christmas?
The 24th, just a few hours ago, was so beautiful, but by the morning of the 25th, the 24th is already old.
Is this the expiration date of anticipation?
Is the expiration date for everything we look forward to just one day?
That's what I wonder.
The date I was looking forward to. The movie I was looking forward to. The wedding I was looking forward to. The camping trip I was looking forward to. The overseas trip I was looking forward to. The new album I was looking forward to.
The moment we take a bite, the expiration date passes.
So, maybe it's not the expiration date of the thing itself, but rather the time we're consuming – the anticipation itself.
Like the time called Christmas Eve, wrapped in Italian marble, lasting only the 24th.
Like the cake you can only eat on the 24th and 25th—it's the time called Christmas cake.
Even a day where nothing happened is time.
Time can be eaten.
Chocolate inside a package labeled “Good Design,” decorated items arbitrarily named “for special days.”
All of these become phenomena that let us grasp time.
It's a strange substitution formula, but this way of thinking is a bit interesting, and doesn't it seem a little funny?
We're told we can never step outside of time, but in reality, we pick up time to use it, put it in our mouths to eat it, leave it uneaten, and observe its changes again inside the refrigerator.
So there's no need to step outside of time, is there?
We substitute all kinds of time into objects and use them beautifully.
We are the ones hacking time.
This means the reality where we actually hack the substitution formula that should only exist in our heads, transform it into Good Design, pick it up, and savor it, is perfectly ordinary.
I just went to the nearby 7-Eleven, and strawberry shortcakes were lined up in rows.
On December 24th, they're even displayed in the regular bento section like in the photo above.
It seems the focus is shifting from how to spend Christmas to what to eat, which made me feel a little relieved.
You can't finish a whole cake in one go, and if you wrap it and put it in the fridge, it's just sad by the early morning of the 25th.
Since the 25th is Christmas Day itself, seeing the cake missing pieces is probably sad. And that cake, so beautifully decorated, just looks utterly decayed sitting on the plate. It makes you freeze in place, thinking, “So yesterday, the 24th, is already this stale by the morning of the 25th...”
Finding yesterday's cake looking old and sad first thing on the 25th makes me wonder... maybe Christmas was really on the 24th?
Maybe the 25th isn't even Christmas? That's probably why the photo size is becoming the main focus.
It's just one day, but why did we pour our whole month's worth of effort into Christmas?
The 24th, just a few hours ago, was so beautiful, but by the morning of the 25th, the 24th is already old.
Is this the expiration date of anticipation?
Is the expiration date for everything we look forward to just one day?
That's what I wonder.
The date I was looking forward to. The movie I was looking forward to. The wedding I was looking forward to. The camping trip I was looking forward to. The overseas trip I was looking forward to. The new album I was looking forward to.
The moment we take a bite, the expiration date passes.
So, maybe it's not the expiration date of the thing itself, but rather the time we're consuming – the anticipation itself.
Like the time called Christmas Eve, wrapped in Italian marble, lasting only the 24th.
Like the cake you can only eat on the 24th and 25th—it's the time called Christmas cake.
Even a day where nothing happened is time.
Time can be eaten.
Chocolate inside a package labeled “Good Design,” decorated items arbitrarily named “for special days.”
All of these become phenomena that let us grasp time.
It's a strange substitution formula, but this way of thinking is a bit interesting, and doesn't it seem a little funny?
We're told we can never step outside of time, but in reality, we pick up time to use it, put it in our mouths to eat it, leave it uneaten, and observe its changes again inside the refrigerator.
So there's no need to step outside of time, is there?
We substitute all kinds of time into objects and use them beautifully.
We are the ones hacking time.
This means the reality where we actually hack the substitution formula that should only exist in our heads, transform it into Good Design, pick it up, and savor it, is perfectly ordinary.
“Truly a scholar's disciple”
From the garden bearing the KAWAII name celebrating the North Star where blue winds blow endlessly,
To you
Merry Christmas!
from BRMC ENAMEL. & Prof.O.
From the garden bearing the KAWAII name celebrating the North Star where blue winds blow endlessly,
To you
Merry Christmas!
from BRMC ENAMEL. & Prof.O.
20251225 14:06 Revised the text.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
