Ahh.... the sweet smell of victory. Love it when a plan comes together, heheheh.
They thought to break me, but I only grew stronger- thought to make me wriggle into a cave of self-pity, but I only laughed in their pathetic, arrogant faces as they squirmed in fear.
Most will probably think me finally gone off the edge and X me off their list for this, unable to cope with the reality that is my past existence, which they will only perceive as my madness.
But no matter- those who stay will be treated to a show for sure.
So, to begin- the signature streaks are back, have chosen to keep the camo stuff as they are reminiscent of my times in the trenches, disguised as a man so my lust for battle at the time would be satisfied. Only Jovan found me out- crafty bastard.
And the eclectic mix of Japanese-European-Asian-Celtic-Roman decor is also staying. At least that was one thing Lilli did right in her recreation of what once was.
Hmmm.... shall I tell you a story? A short one, I promise, but interesting nevertheless.
Of all the times I have lived- of all the lives I have experienced- the times in Japan I look upon most fondly. The cherry blossoms in spring, falling like soft pink rain upon my hair and shoulders as I practiced in the courtyard, my blade slicing deftly through the petals as they drifted silently to the ground, making whirlwinds of color and fragrance around me.
From the time I was a child, drums have always called to me- the bodhran has always sent me to a place of intense spiritual power and presence.
But when I heard Taiko for the first time, oh! It was like nothing else! The huge odaiko drum vibrating through my body like thunder in a typhoon, the other drums- the barrell-shaped okedo and snare-like shime-daiko- joining in concert in a rapid-fire, almost fanatic beat that had me literally drinking in the complex rhythms, their power washing over me like a tsunami.
And in the middle, pounding away deftly at one of the okedo, there he was.
Orion Quest.
Dark as he is I was immediately drawn to the unlikelihood of a gaijin being accepted in such an exclusive, honored tradition as Taiko. But when he began his solo, I understood why he was there. His serene expression contrasted with the precision and passion with which he played, every beat on mark, every move calculated and executed with such perfection I was mesmerized. Then the two cymbal players stood in front of him, holding out their instruments as if in offering, and he began to play upon those too- the patterns not unlike the crash and roll of thunder and he switched deftly from tom to cymbal in an effortless grace.
When he was done, the crowd, having fallen silent in the same hypnotic trance I was in, erupted in applause and whoops of appreciation. Without missing a beat, the performance continued as he fell back in concert with the group. He looked up once, met my eyes with that smouldering obsidian glare of his, impossibly long eyelashes lowered slightly, and that was it- I knew I had to meet him.
But that, my Minions, is a story for another time. I fear this one was longer than I intended- begging your pardon. I do tend to bloviate....
So, the transformations continue, there will be pics shortly- patience my dears- after five year's absence, there is much still to be done.
Blessed Be )O(
