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日曜日なので、穏やかな内容を書いています。
ビニール傘はあまり得意ではないんですが、数日前に雨が落ちているビニール傘の下から桜の花びらを映している動画を拝見し、大韓民国の雀を利けて(きけて)嬉しかったです。(オリジナルな言い回しです。)
雨の日の散歩が好きです。
先日歩いていると、この頃私の胸に灯っている菫がアスファルトに咲いていて、見知らぬ指先による景観に立ち止まりました。
風に乗ってきたのかな? と思いましたが、植えたくて植えているようで、違和感を創り出そうとしたのか、単に菫がお好きだったのか、色々と自分の感性をどなたかの睫毛の先の震えを想い、足元から紫色に染まっていけました。
ご覧のように社会的にはあまり感心できないようですが、グラフィティとアスファルトにこの色を点として置いているセンスには息を呑むものがあります。
捉えた者が造った人物の意思とは別に遠くを眺める思考の中に、アスファルトに埋められた場所に植物が育っていると、根性とか頑張りの名前が付けられ、励まされた人々がさらに無言の激励に喜ぶ姿がたまにメディアに映されています。
私は、アスファルトはとても美しいという感性をずっと持っています。
敷かれたばかりのアスファルトは立ち登るうっすらとした油煙に包まれて眺めると、成程其処には美しさが或ると皆さんも思われるでしょうが、私はこの工業製品は新しいダイヤだと感じています。
その縁に力強いこちらのタイプの菫を少なく置くセンスとグラフィティの単色に合わせてある寒色の構図は、晴れていても曇っていても、雨が透明な前衛の切り取りを繰り返していても、目を見張る造型です。
実はこれは秘密なんですが、どうも私の部屋の周辺には、この方向で景観をハッキング(良い意味で使うのがハッキング。悪い意味はハック)されているようなんです。
面白い宝探しだな、と何方が始めて、何方がそれにリアル・スラング・ドゥー・フォー・shooting me youを返しているのかと、歩く速度がゆっくりになり、一秒が広がり風を起こしていく中、私は景観に咲きこぼれ続けるインテリジェンスのセンス達に、現在と未来しかないと人生に応じ続ける人の強さに敬礼を持ち続けています。
防犯に気をつけて、窓から、歩きながら、リアル・スラング・ドゥー・フォー・Just Shooting Me You を探す、素敵な日曜日をお過ごし下さい。
Since it’s Sunday, I’m writing something lighthearted.
I’m not really a fan of plastic umbrellas, but a few days ago I saw a video showing cherry blossom petals reflecting off the raindrops on a plastic umbrella, and it made me happy to see a sparrow from South Korea in the shot. (That’s my own way of putting it.)
I love taking walks on rainy days.
The other day, as I was walking, I saw violets—the kind that have been lighting up my heart lately—blooming on the asphalt, and I stopped to admire this scene created by an unknown hand.
I wondered if they’d blown in on the wind, but it seemed as though someone had planted them on purpose—perhaps to create a sense of incongruity, or simply because they loved violets. As I pondered these possibilities, imagining the tremor at the tip of someone’s eyelash, the world around my feet gradually turned purple.
I’m not really a fan of plastic umbrellas, but a few days ago I saw a video showing cherry blossom petals reflecting off the raindrops on a plastic umbrella, and it made me happy to see a sparrow from South Korea in the shot. (That’s my own way of putting it.)
I love taking walks on rainy days.
The other day, as I was walking, I saw violets—the kind that have been lighting up my heart lately—blooming on the asphalt, and I stopped to admire this scene created by an unknown hand.
I wondered if they’d blown in on the wind, but it seemed as though someone had planted them on purpose—perhaps to create a sense of incongruity, or simply because they loved violets. As I pondered these possibilities, imagining the tremor at the tip of someone’s eyelash, the world around my feet gradually turned purple.
As you can see, it might not be socially acceptable, but the artistry of placing this color as a dot on the asphalt, like graffiti, is truly breathtaking.
In the mindset of those who gaze into the distance, independent of the intentions of the people they portray, we occasionally see media coverage of plants growing in spots embedded in asphalt—plants that are labeled as symbols of “grit” or “perseverance,” and of people who, encouraged by this, take silent joy in this silent encouragement.
I have long held the belief that asphalt is truly beautiful.
When you gaze at freshly laid asphalt shrouded in a faint wisp of oil smoke rising from it, you too will likely agree that there is a certain beauty there; yet, I feel that this industrial product is a new kind of diamond.
I have long held the belief that asphalt is truly beautiful.
When you gaze at freshly laid asphalt shrouded in a faint wisp of oil smoke rising from it, you too will likely agree that there is a certain beauty there; yet, I feel that this industrial product is a new kind of diamond.
The composition—featuring a few of these robust violets placed along the edge and a cool-toned palette matching the monochromatic graffiti—is a striking sight, whether the sky is clear or cloudy, or even when the rain repeatedly cuts through the air like transparent avant-garde strokes.
Actually, this is a secret, but it seems the scenery around my room is being “hacked” (using the term in a positive sense; the negative sense is “hack”) in this very way.
It’s like an interesting treasure hunt—wondering who started it and who is responding with “Real Slang Do-For-Shooting Me You”—as my walking pace slows, each second stretches out, and the wind begins to stir.
Amidst this, I continue to salute the strength of those who respond to life with the conviction that there is only the present and the future, amidst the sense of intelligence that continues to bloom and spill over into the landscape.
Please stay safe, and have a wonderful Sunday searching for “Real Slang Do-For Just Shooting Me You” from your window or while walking.
Please stay safe, and have a wonderful Sunday searching for “Real Slang Do-For Just Shooting Me You” from your window or while walking.
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