Our Man in Abiko's Blog, page 4

Too many shades of grey

Picked up Our Man's dog-eared copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse 5 along with the bottle of shochu after work today. And then in a Vonnegutian coincidence, noticed he was quoted in this angry rejoinder to the US legally mandated preference for the patriotically correct Veterans' Day rather than the sacred Armistice Day. Our Man likes Vonnegut.
Anyway, this here is Our man's latest. He cocked up the sky -- what was going to be a stunning wet-on-wet sunset of dazzle behind an otherwise nondescript 60s relic of an Abikan house became a trench-footian mess of mud after Our Man committed the watercolorist's worst sin of adding light tone onto dark by mistake. Still, who knew dull grey had so many constituent colours? 
So it goes.

Wet behind the ears

Our Man's first ever painting, rather than coloured-in sketch. It's a boat on the Teganuma marsh round the corner from the bunker in just three colours - yellow, light blue and dark blue. It's also the first time he ever did wet on wet, which amazingly is legal in these parts. It was his attempt to ape this proper wine-glass-mixing artist on YouTube. Though Our Man was armed only with a 100-yen watercolour set, a piece of paper and Our Woman's shopping bicycle. You don't really need anything else.

Instant art, just add water

Somehow Our Man blew his hour lunch break that he'd earmarked for sketching on trying to decode the Japanese heating instructions on a packet of microwave fettuccine and when he got home the light was fading and he thought he'd lost his opportunity to sketch today. But all was not lost. He nipped upstairs and while bringing the washing in, thought he could make out enough of the details of the rooftops to capture something of the flavour of his neighbourhood. Sketched in an hour and watercolours added (from memory) in 30 minutes or so on the dining table. Served fresh to you. Ching!

Almost cut my hair

Our Man passes this place on Route 356 just about every day and has been meaning to sketch it for just about as long. At first, he thought it was a poorly named pub, but then he noticed the pole and realised it was not Bar Ber, but a barber's. But hasn't been active since the beehive was superseded by the mullet by the looks of the decor.

Today, Our Man finally got round to committing the place to paper. He sat in a gravel car park across the road in his new fold-up chair and managed to complete the sketch and watercolours on scene. He spoke to an old lady who made polite noises about his efforts, and a rather brusque younger chap who as far as Our Man could tell wanted it made clear that the car park was his and although I could sit there it was at his pleasure not mine. In such circumstances, as in all of life, Our Man finds the best course of action is

a) Act first, seek permission later
b) When inevitably busted, plead ignorance
c) Use a deft mix of deference and self-deprecation to disarm
d) Carry on regardless.

Almost cut my hair. But instead, I let my freak flag fly.

Soccer moms

November 2nd, 2014, was not the greatest day in the history of Abikan girls' soccer. The results of Abiko's three 5-a-side games were: Narita 8-0 Abiko, Kashiwa 4-0 Abiko and Matsudo 14-0 Abiko. The silver lining was Our Man's youngest played in goal for the first time and let in the least (just 4, ahem). And the stadium in Kashiwa also impressively outmatched the occasion, with a pro-running track, real grass pitch and seating for 10,000 spectators.

Here's three of them.

Carry on.

Yellow flight

Sure, a boxy block of flats in downtown Abiko probably isn’t most folks’ idea of sexy.
But Our Man has always been intrigued by the brazen yellowness of the ceilings of the flights of stairs that hint at a secret life behind the barred faux paper-screen windows he can hardly dare to imagine. Something like that anyway.
He would have added more detail but Our Woman summoned him to buy some plastic bags, which was probably just as well as a whopping great delivery truck had just pulled up in front of Our Man, blocking his view completely just as he was going to start detailing the car. Lessons learned from this sketch:When on location, sketch the likely to move, or be obstructed items first (cars and passers-by).Vanishing points, even if you can’t see them, really should exist.Don’t carry a mobile phone. Ever.

Sketching in the front line

Just happened on this Washington Post blog Drawing up the drawdown by Richard Johnson, a sketch artist who just got back from a stint embedded with US troops in Afghanistan. Forget the latest camera equipment and Pentagon reporting restrictions, all you need is a pencil, a piece of paper and a good eye. A stunning example of how less is more.

Still life

This is the view when Our Man ventures from the bunker. It's his neighbour's house, perched precariously on the side of the same steep hill as Our Man's. There's something about how the houses in this neighbourhood are carved into postage-stamp, gravity-defying plots that just makes you want to fist pump in the air and proclaim your independence from all those pesky Laws of Nature and Common Sense and such that we hear are so important.

BTW, you may be wondering why Our Man has shut up about politics and become quite the boring non-satirical online recluse who is into watercolours (of all the semi-retired things forchristsakes). Or maybe you're not, but no matter, he'll tell you anyway. He's taking a leaf out of the Kate Bush PR handbook. That is, he's realised it's better to shut up until you have something worth saying. Our Man has nothing to say just right now, so he'll shut his cake hole. Radical, Our Man knows.

But he will return. Like Caesar or MacArthur. Or herpes.

Anyway, in the meantime, enjoy the (pretty?) pictures.

True Colours

This latest effort at a water colour really doesn’t do justice to the subject matter, a subtly stunningly beautiful temple garden in Kamakura, but I learnt a bit about the dangers of mixing too many colours before they dried and trying to be too clever with what I had. Which brings Our Man to Hirohito. Unwilling sock puppet of the military (Japanese or American, both are strong candidates) or leading instigator of Japanese militarism? Our Man can’t separate all the hues of current and past bias but this chap in the NYT makes a reasonable summary of the arguments and an explanation for why Hirohito’s true colours still matter to Asia today.

Scotland’s exit

Our Man isn’t sure whether he has any right to offer an opinion about Scotland, having no vote, being English and living on the other side of the world. 
But that hasn’t stopped him before. Or David Beckham, who’s equally unqualified from offering his insights either, telling Scots that he saw their passion on the football pitch (er, playing against England) and therefore the two countries are better working together, because, er, they have more in common than they have apart. Like ying and yang, Laurel and Hardy, Posh and Sporty, yeast and sugar. You know. Or something.
But.
While faffing about sketching and colouring a shot of a Victorian London doorway he took on his last trip back to Blighty, Our Man was struck by how odd a concept Britain and the United Kingdom is. We don’t even know what to call our country. UK? Britain? England? I suspect it’s something to do with empire and all that. I mean, Victoria even called herself Empress of India. Slightly un-PC, eh Vicky? 
Well, it’s over. And if Scotland leaves, the union will be dissolved, the marriage of two unequals will be left to history. 
And maybe it’s about time. If not on Thursday, then someday soon. The arguments about currency and jobs and all that are secondary. Independence is its own reward. 
And if you accuse Our Man of being superficial and not really knowing the issues, the split loyalties of Celtic and Rangers fans, of first footing and, er,  kilts… you’d be absolutely right. I mean, Scotland’s like a whole other country, right? 
Right.