So last night I was told was one year since the tsunami hit Japan. I want to say the anniversary but I have always hated that word being used for bad things. Today I found myself wondering amazing an graveyard here in Kyoto, behind a Buddhist temple. And the day before the anniversary  I spen many hours in an art museum writing about death and decomposing, thoughts inspired by the featured artist Fuyuko Matsui. 

 Her art is about the stages of dying and what happens to the body afterward. Kind of carthardic in releasing lost ones and fear of death. Detaching the soul from the constraints of this world. I thought a lot about what it means to be dead in this world while still breathing and walking around. The show was split into 9 stages, things like reflection, dissection, demons, and  narsasism. She use some brutal images like a woman cutting her stomach open to reveal her ovaries with a child inside. My favorite was an elefant in water. There are chains wrapped around its body, pulling it under. It will drown. There are many chains in this world dragging us down. 
Before I left on this trip I had some fears that I would die. I delt with them, basically I realized I had to just take situations as they come and keep my witts about me. I realized I can’t prepare for everything but once I’m in a situation I can sort my way through it. And I realized that getting wasted in se Asia could get me stabbed and robbed.
 These fears really made me think about things. I had always believed that If death came to me there would be a split second decision to give up or to live, and I assumed I would choose life. There are also lots of people who choose to check out of this world and that is ok. I still believe I’ll choose to live, but it is good to ponder what I am in this world and how happy with it I am. It’s good to be real with myself. Things are changing quickly now, I want to see clearly. 

With all that said, I think death is not something to be feared, but respected yes. In my opinion that is.