I have been fortunate to shape academic programs dedicated to exploration of imagination and ideas, these igniting powerful, meaningful and often deep personal stories expressing the inner soul, or inspiring unique original concept designs that probe not just what is but what could be. In all such I strive to shape a system that will challenge the students to take risks, to probe, to test, to experiment, to find themselves, to discover what make them unique, who they truly are deep inside, not on the outside. I challenge them to expose themselves, not physically but spiritually. I call upon them to “take the condom off their head”, have an unsafe idea, for life is too short and precious for following in someone else’s steps, make your own path through an untapped space.

 

Over the last years I have observed our country, one that stands as the beaker of success, one to which most of the world looks up to, aspires to or wants to alike, change. Political correctness, fear of being painted as insensitive, a chauvinist, a racist, or being too this or too that, or “I’ll sue you”, in my personal view, is killing our free spirit, our sincere openness, ability to dialogue or differ with others on a deeper emotional level. As one who has, not so long ago, personally experienced a good old-Midwestern inquisition, I have strong feelings and beliefs on this topic.

Back to the last blog. It triggered a discussion on whether some restrain, a “black mask”, is called for. I felt that the images left untouched made a mighty statement against their authors, or artists who, in my view, misuse their talents for immoral, even sick, degenerate objectives. Furthermore, I felt that the presence of a “black cover up” actually attracts more attention and causes imagination to spin wild in all the wrong directions. But maybe that’s just me? I would welcome hearing back from those who read the blog. Do comment and share your opinion. Am I wrong?

And before I progress to the topic this blog is dedicated to, I wish to thank the reader who was kind enough to send me an email of appreciation for the series. I would welcome more thoughtful feedback. While praise is always cheered, criticism is helpful as well. Being new to this domain I have much to learn. So feel free to love me, thank me, applaud me, correct or challenge me, even tear me apart, as long as it is done in a civil and intelligent manner. Else a black mask!

I anticipate this may be the last blog in the series dedicated to Japan? In it I wish to pay homage to the complex delicacy, beauty, sensuality and unique simplicity, purity and sophistication of Japanese art, design, craftsmanship, old architecture of ancient temples, shrines, dragons as well as other real or imaginary creatures.

 

 

There are many impressive aspects of and qualities I now associate Japanese people, their ways of lives and their culture with. However, what sets them apart in minds of those who have had a limited exposure to, or those who have never been there, are Anime and Manga, and to a lesser extend a mysterious Geisha.

 Japanese Manga acts as a vast, all encompassing visual, graphic, emotional and storytelling mirror of all of the facets of Japanese life, from conflicts, relationships to all other social and personal issues, everything. There is manga exclusively for girls and there is manga only for boys, there is manga dealing with relationships between the girls only or only the boys, and there is Manga for everyone else. There is Manga for the kids, the teens, young adults and all of those in-between.

I deem that every people, whether fulfilled bluntly oppressed or subtly manipulated by own rulers, or puppet masters, or pacified by the covertly preselected candidates to “democratically elect” from, sooner or later will awake. As history has proven repeatedly, it is then that they rise, rebel, demand a role in the way their lives and futures are being shaped. We have seen such awakening in Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Russia, Iran, Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and, to a tiny extend, on Wall Street. Many such revolts are hastily taken advantage of by those who shrewdly manipulate such prospects to clench control for their own benefits or, worse yet, those interests that are vigilantly hidden behind them.

If countries, judged by many as undeveloped, are nonetheless capable of higher ideals, struggle for true freedom, than why we, who deem ourselves as the most advanced, the leaders of the “free world”, avoid to look the truth in the eye and admit to ourselves that we are lost in a desert of consumerism, disposability and materialistic excess, blown every which way by the gusts of shortsighted greed?

    

As I reflected in my previous blog, Japanese are true perfectionists, in all they do. Thus, when it comes to political correctness, over centuries, and elected isolation from the external world, they turned it into an art form, a nature, but at what cost?

Bowing projects a wonderfully charming sense of politeness and respect, but it does not end on just one bow, it goes on, and on. It is very carefully and skillfully choreographed and, as such, not spontaneous. It is the repetitious aspect of this custom, at least to a “greenhorn” that feels over the top, too stringent, too restrictive and, after some time, even seemingly forced. Then, such a mutual need to project this respect appears programed and artificial. It feels like it could be restrictive to any spontaneous yet meaningful substance or observation resulting in deeper interaction and more intellectual, dare I say, intercourse? And having seen some striking, incredibly sensuous and very delicate Kamasutra, while upholding delicacy and refinement, Japanese people can be very explicit.

When invited to become a AWN expert blogger, my instantaneous reaction was - “why me?”

“I think you are perfect for the medium.  You are passionate about what you do, opinionated about what you care about and not afraid to express yourself. “ – was the offered answer.

Over the next days I reflected on my initial question. Does my life represent a role model for others? While there are many who have grown deep roots, achieved stability, accrued property and wellbeing, I am a product of a broken family, which I held against my father for the rest of his life. But then, like he, I caused a crushing of my own. And thus my life turned out to be an emotional, spiritual, intellectual and physical roller coaster. I love, some, roller coasters, but yet there are many who fear it or throw up on it.

From the initiation to this world, I have carried on the tradition of my ancestors, who wandered the desert for 40 years before finding the Promised Land. Yet after an extensive career, traveling to opposite ends of the world, living there, I am still at it. How twisted is that? Where is my Land of Milk and Honey? And this is not because I have not been trying hard. There are those who deem me to too passionate, too driven, too persistent, too motivated, too…. So, what does that say about me, how does it reflect on me? This I ask of myself, and so do certain others who questioning my impetuses and, at times, sanity.