A few days ago, I took part in a flower arrangement festival 勉強会 (benkyoukai) once again. In Japanese tradition, practices such as, the Tea Ceremony, or the Ikebana (the local term for flower arrangement), refer to formal sessions during which advanced practitioners showcase their craft under the guidance of their school’s leader. A benkyoukai differs… Continue reading Dressing Up to Look Plain
All posts
The three drives of Dracula
A few days ago, I re-watched an absolute classic: Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula. I was astonished to find how well the film had aged. If anything, this great masterpiece only gained quality over time, much like fine wine. Since I first saw it when I was eleven, Dracula has remained deeply etched in a corner… Continue reading The three drives of Dracula
My way to yoga
As the title suggests, this short piece recounts the events that led me to start practicing yoga. Initially, it was supposed to be a mere introduction to a longer text on the benefits I reaped from the practice, but as it grew out of proportion, I decided to deal the topic in parts. A stone… Continue reading My way to yoga
Lurid and spiritual lessons from Cape Town
An almost endless variety of typologies we all have, to classify people into groups. With today’s article, it’s my hope to propose at least two more to your list. Firstly, through this account of my time in South Africa, I’d like to underline the fundamental difference separating people who’ve been there from those who haven’t.… Continue reading Lurid and spiritual lessons from Cape Town
The girl without a face, my guilty pleasure and the last drops of rain
Today, I want to share something sad. For the life of me, I am unable to remember the face of my first kiss. OK, that admission is definitely more pathetic than sad. To be completely honest, I can’t even remember her name. No matter how hard I try, she seems forever out of reach, elusive… Continue reading The girl without a face, my guilty pleasure and the last drops of rain
Wet dreams, pale blue ink and Shavasana
Forgotten Wet Dreams In my teens, my nights have often been drenched in wet dreams, or should I say drowned. But, even waking up with a soiled brief wasn’t as miserable as not remembering the scenes from my mind’s porn. Guys! I can almost hear your derisive titters, but put yourselves in my sticky briefs… Continue reading Wet dreams, pale blue ink and Shavasana
Sixty fucking minutes a day
It’s been far too long since I wrote anything substantial in English. In fact, the last time I did so with any semblance of seriousness probably dates back to more than a decade ago already, when I was still a diligent law student in Great Britain handing in my term papers, succumbing to conformance. Today,… Continue reading Sixty fucking minutes a day