Day 10 - Teshima, Naoshima, + Retrospective

Some vacations lead to profound revelations, all-new relationships, and life changes. I've been back in Seattle for about one week, now, and in America for two. The Art Islands have left my mind and I think my comparison to summer camp is super apt. It's over now - I accept it - but its also there, waiting for me to return, next summer (or whenever.) The Art Islands are 100% hold the most impressive and mind altering collection of art I've ever seen. It is a magical place.

Day 10

On the previous night, I had dinner with a new friend, Natalie. She was not the type of person I typically find myself with; head-strong, obstinate, an artist's disposition and eye, kind of wild in her attention -- also 50-ish -- and way more  internationally experienced but hey its the Art Islands. I found myself against a lot of her opinions but unwilling to argue -- not worth. We stayed out till about 11:00pm and I headed home, loaded up my onsen tub, and eventually headed to sleep -- so, so, so excited about day 2.

I wake up -- please be 5:00am, please be 5:00am -- grab my charging kindle off of the shelf -- it feels like 5:00am ... 2:10am. Shit. I roll around till 3:00am when I give up. Im up for the day. There was just zero chance I was getting to sleep for any long amount of time and I could sleep another time, anyway.

I get up, do some reading, and decide I'd like to see sunrise. I personally feel Im more honed in at sunrise, than set. I want to rest after the sun has set. Instead Im usually getting drunk -- but regardless, here's a chance for me to see the sunset during an irreplaceable two days in my life. Done. By 4:00, I'm out the door, ambling on empty streets. Pink is drawling itself out, over the horizon. I jump around taking different pictures with the environment. It's temperate, in my light jacket. There are occasional cars in the early morning light but the only people out are fishermen.

...

7-11 opens At 6am and I buy a breakfast of rice, nori (seaweed,) and tamago (egg.) I miss it so. Right now, I’m practicing Ramadan and just talking about Japan invites a barge of nostalgia filled with these memories, hunger, and feels. I grab food, and head to the 6am ferry. 

I arrive at the island and quickly find it is about half of the size of the first island, despite whatever the maps say. It smells like fresh ocean. It’s almost 7 — nothing is close to opening — and I see only one man out on the street. I approach the man and courteously greet him: I’m looking to rent a bike, I tell him. This is a 60-70 year old man tending to his garden. He motions to follow him and takes me through the village to one of the wooden homes’ sliding doors. He raps on the door and says something in Japanese. A groggy man holding his morning coffee comes to the door — and he speaks a bit of english. "Yes, bike? Okay come in.” 

The man doesnt check a license and doesnt make me sign anything. I give him $15 and I’m on my way with a motorized bike for the day. 

I take out my map, orient myself, and head for the first of the outdoor exhibitions I want to see. It’s closed, but I find an old — it looks like hospital — and decide to break in and explore; possibly take some cool photos. I step into the tall grass and a giant snake slithers right in front of me. Okay, never mind. 

I keep peddling to the first exhibit I want to see. Closed. I consider breaking in, but see “Beware of Wild Hogs” signs everywhere. I feel that 7am, when noone else is around, is not the time to brave a closed, warthog-infested exhibit and Im still spooked by the snake so I keep rolling.