
Car Sick
Japan is great and I despair for the world
Ramblings of a Zen student, two-wheeler, and curious human.
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Japan is great and I despair for the world

Travelling solo in Japan

Brothers and sisters: we were raised to hate each other

I would ride my bike even if it was bad for the planet and made me fat. I ride because I can't be bothered doing anything else.

Shaving my head in public is the least of it

I miss the light fuzz under my fingers, the micro prickles irritating my chin.

I go to Oaxaca, not to see lots of things — but rather, to see things a lot. To smash moments into microparticles and make an experiment of slowing down time.

“Walking is not your friend!” says my hyperkinetic physio. “Wear cushy shoes! Swim lengths! Don’t stop moving!” He bounces off to bully a client strapped into a torture device in another cubicle. “But no no NO walking! Just keep riding your bike.”

My life as a municipal nuisance, battling car-addiction in the hidden corridors of a sprawling metropolis.

11-11-11 on the Drive

I am an anti-compass. Just look where I'm headed and go the other way.

It's not just a party. It's a dress rehearsal.

A *Youlogy for Jennifer Chan

Working for free is my kinda gig.

Buy Nothing is the best shopping therapy.

Through all those excruciating decades of hormonal anguish and baby/no-baby indecision, not one person ever told me the one thing that could have eased my pain. No one ever told me it would be OK either way.

Ketamine Assisted Therapy is a trip.

Reflections on a lifetime of dubious employment