AOI HARU: TULIP TEENS

About age 12. That's when I started to think of myself as a tulip... 

Toshiaki Toyoda' s film Aoi Haru (Blue Spring) reconnected me to that feeling.

I have always wondered why I felt so distinctively sad when I was a teenager. I led a 'normal life': loving (though extremely busy) parents, a cool boyfriend and plenty of music to love. Yet my heart bled for all the troubles of the world. At school most sniggered behind my back at my perennially anguished mood. It was a phase in my life full of ineffable hurt which oftentimes turned into confusing anger: being in a constant state of unease was tough. Naturally, my life as a troubled teen undoubtedly proved to be as formative as my earlier wild and relatively lonesome childhood days. And frankly, I've never quite lost my teenage emotionality.

In the past three decades at least, Japan too has had to deal with a serious problem concerning teen and pre-teen violence and suicides. I recently learnt about an interesting study which tries to identify the scientific reasons behind "teen angst" and the causes behind the extreme, fluctuating emotions which plague our youth. 

By analysing behaviours in Japan and, crucially, across ancestral human societies around the globe, it clearly emerged how natural evolution has chosen not to discard this typically adolescent trait. Furthermore, extreme teenage behaviour seems to appear in most if not all of living species. The obvious reason is that, somehow, it has been (and still is) useful, in fact fundamental, in our success as a species. How? By utilising 'reckless impulsiveness' as preservation tool in case of danger.

Turns out that our ancestral adolescents were key for the survival and success of our species. Imagine the scenario: our tribe is in trouble. Water reservoirs are depleted, locusts have damaged the food resources and a hungry, more powerful neighbouring tribe is about to invade our territory. We have to migrate - fast. Who will be willing, in fact itching, to explore the dangerous, unchartered boundaries that lay beyond our familiar land? The men must stay put in order to protect women, children and the elderly. So it will be down to the fearless adolescents, eager to become fully-fledged warriors and heroes, to set out on a mission to save the entire tribe - and with that, the human gene. 

The success of our ancestral teens in carrying out such perilous yet crucial missions was due to the turbo-charged, almost blind, set of emotions ignited by the chemical (sexual) transformations going on in their bodies. Raging hormones made them fearless and creative, ready for action to the bitter end.  Conversely, adults, tend to lose their recklessness and desire for adventure as they reach sexual maturity, becoming more 'sensible' and 'stable' so that the family can be safely looked after and nurtured. 

It makes a lot of sense that teen extreme emotionality has been selected by natural evolution for a fundamental purpose. The inherent intelligence of Nature is truly staggering, a trait that has long been mistaken for perfection. But of course nature is extremely fluid: genetic codes are not meant to freeze into a fixed state but, rather, to find a way to constantly improve the chances of survival through a slow, hit-and-miss process of selective, highly specific usefulness. Perfection and fixed ideas do not exist in nature, they are one of our delusions: hence emotions (the entire good and bad spectrum), sexuality, physical appearance, even genius and idiocy cannot (and should not) be defined by rules set in stone. 

In other words, our emotions, big, troublesome, dangerous or wonderful, are a fact of life and make us who we are. If we let them, they will make us blossom, and that's when we get to finally understand that life is a truly wondrous experience. 

And now a few words on the fabulous film itself. 

Aoi Haru (2002) is based on a manga by Tayō Matsumoto. It centres around a group of students about to graduate, but with no real desire to enter adulthood by pursuing a university degree or a career. The all-male campus school they attend has a harsh and uninspiring air of run-down concrete barracks tainted in brazen graffiti. Unsurprisingly, some of the boys respond to the desolate, hostile environment by becoming bullies and forming gangs. Sheer recklessness and bravado, violence and disrespect towards authority (teachers) determine the fragile position of the leader.

Before getting into the story, let me mention how much the soundtrack contributes to the compelling viewing of this film, starting from the initial/end credits courtesy of rather oddly named Japanese indie-rock band Three Michelle Gun Elephant. The band was active throughout the nineties and broke up in 2003. Sadly I wasn't aware of them while they were active, which is a pity, as I love their raw, emotional and sexually charged sound, an edgy blend of punk, indie and dirty blues. The gorgeous theme of Aoi Haru is called "Redhead Kelly". The haunting track is featured on the penultimate album released by TMGE in 2001, Rodeo Tandem Beat Specter (they seemed to enjoy extravagant mouthfuls). 

The two main characters in Aoi Haru are childhood friends Kujo and Aoki. Kujo is the more introverted and meditative teen, the classic creepy nerd. He is bewitchingly portrayed by an 18-year-old Ryuhei Matsuda (who debuted aged 15 in Gohatto -Taboo-, a film I particularly love and which I will write about in the near future) Young Kujo, blessed with a startling kind of beauty, is an intelligent and introspective boy capable of extreme acts of violence and bravery, hence he soon becomes the leader of the main school gang. Resigned to the fact that the dog-eat-dog survival policy which rules the entire school will also inevitably apply to the outside world, Kujo deals with his new position of power with ruthless detachment. 

His friend Aoki, who admires him, soon becomes frustrated with the insular aloofness of his 'boss' and eventually decides to challenge his leadership. Kujo though, fully aware of his superiority, shows no interest in fighting. Instead, he spends many schooling hours on his own contemplating the vast blueness of the sky from the school's roof terrace, seemingly dreaming of releasing himself from the absurdity of that senseless reality. While fatal random acts of disturbing violence are perpetrated by various peripheral characters, Aoki finally sets up his final showdown, choosing death. Kujo, whose attempt at saving him fails, finally decides to give life a chance to blossom.

The build-up towards the end credits is truly breathtaking. The series of fateful events, beautifully weaving metaphor into harsh reality, are skilfully sequenced so that the viewer is caught in the vicious circle of abject hopelessness, profound unease and utter confusion the boys have sunk into. The unapologetic use of numbingly cold brutality left me in no doubt that I was in for a poetic final. Although fascinating, the aesthetics of violence are perfectly balanced with the more meditative scenes. In fact my most memorable scenes are the ones where a moody Kujo draws a strange black figure on his class desk (a powerful prophetic act) and when he talks to the dwarf school gardener, intrigued by the cycle of life. Will all flowers end up in full bloom?...

The young Ryuhei Matsuda plays an instrumental part in creating in Kujo a fascinating, memorable character, one the viewer cannot help putting one's trust in. Interestingly, the actor himself left school early to concentrate on his acting career, and one suspects that in his teens he might have not felt at ease within his own school environment because of his status (born into a famous acting family) and perhaps his androgynous, unsettling beauty too. Whatever the case might be, the Ryuhei is more than convincing in a teen role where gritty self-survival and a yearning for a different future collide almost fatally. In the end, he does chose to become a tulip.

Watch the film with English subtitles here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BU1Fx2t-YPA

Photo credits unavailable. 

Thank you Grapey for uploading the movie.

MASTERS OF DELUSION

A friend once made me laugh when she remarked how her telly's nothing like mine! 

It was by mere chance that, while flipping channels, I caught a glimpse of a guy with dishevelled hair and a worn grey t-shirt: he had a look in his eyes I instantly recognised. Behind his 'mad genius glasses', his gaze revealed a deep, dark well of pain. 

Those eyes belonged to James Rhodes, a concerto pianist of international fame. He was about to begin his 3-minute slot on Viewsnight, a small window of individuality graciously offered by Newsnight on BBC2. As he pronounced the title of his piece, I put the remote down, compelled to listen. And when it was all over, I thought that such scary, profound, simple, naked, honest and hopeful words should be shared.

I dedicate them to someone who spent years fighting for the vulnerable, then chose to become vulnerable himself in order to tell the naked truth. Please don't change, my friend: hurt is only fleeting, sincerity and hope are forever. And if you do change, remain proud of what you did.

WE ARE NOT MEANT TO BE HAPPY ALL OF THE TIME

 by James Rhodes

The pursuit of happiness seems like such a noble one... 

And yet it's fundamentally flowed. 

Happiness is not something to pursue any more than sadness, anger, hope or love. 

It is simply a state of being which is fluid, occasionally fleeting, sometimes unfindable, 

which is why self-help books are little more than a tax on our fragility.

We live in an age of unprecedented pace 

where our "always-on" mentality has created an unworkable and unsustainable environment.

We are in trouble.

And perfectly curated instagram selfies,

unattainable physical perfection seen all over the media - photoshopped to death,

anonymous social media outlets for our pent-up rage,

they are not helping.

Mental illness needs to be reframed.

Urgently. 

Even the phrase must change.

Surely there is enough evidence by now to replace that phrase simply with

the Human Condition.

We are all by turn anxious, in low mood, peaceful, grieving, content.

Occasionally some of us may stray further down the continuum

into depression, PTSD, suicidal ideation.

But I can't help feeling 

that when we talk about life's rich tapestry,

this is exactly what we mean: 

that life is filled with messy, challenging, difficult feelings and situations,

and denying them, 

apologising for them,

pretending they do not exist,

is counterproductive.

Just because we are not happy doesn't mean we are unhappy.

There are times when I despise myself,

I want to hurt myself,

when I want to die.

And then there are times when I feel quite comfortable with the world.

And all of those things are natural for me.

Perhaps we can aim to celebrate our individual messiness,

and by doing so unite us all

in a more honest way.

James Rhodes was repeatedly raped by one of his teachers from the age of 6. His spine was badly damaged (he had to have pins inserted to keep it together) but obviously his psyche suffered far more than his little body. In his 2 books James tells us how he's still unable to trust those who are supposed to care for him, he tells us about the intrinsic shame he feels and how the elusiveness of happiness became an instrument of torture (hence the need to self-harm and the multiple suicide attempts).
James has a huge reason for feeling 'lost' and terribly hurt, yet he has chosen to acknowledge who he is, bravely abandoning the "what ifs" that often become life's stumbling blocks. 
The human emotions and impulses we show the world define our public personality: cheerful, easy-going, moody, miserable, timid, vulnerable, greedy, sly. The list goes on. In private, what happens when one becomes fully exposed to life's traumas (no matter whether small or severe: it's all relative to individual sensitivity)? Like many others, James found a powerful saviour in music, but it is obvious that his inner battle could find respite if all of us would seriously rethink the derogatory, stigmatising - yet all too vague - old way of categorising the vulnerable. In fact, of judging ALL those who do not fit in with our sclerotic society models based on backward information or plain ignorance.

It seriously puzzles me how in this day and age most people are still blind to what constitutes the actual nature of us human beings and all which surrounds us. Like everything else in nature, we are a mind-blowing, fluid aggregate of chemical reactions, so incredible and powerful that - in our hopeful ignorance - we learned to call it Soul, thus establishing an idealistic connection with the Divine perfection we so naively crave. 

Just like we are too capable to create new biological lives, our complex biochemical make-up gives us an extraordinary variety of sensations, thoughts and moods which enable us to create inspiring material and intellectual constructions, such as, for example, Art. In my opinion, nothing defines us better than our boundless creativity. And this is what helped me to accept my extreme (at times difficult to manage) emotions as a dangerous but formidable tool through which to explore myself and the world, as something which describes me and determines that I am alive. I have accepted that the more stressful a negative emotion is (fear, hurt, injustice), the more sickly my body becomes. I have finally accepted that happiness is entirely transient, just like hurt is... When one thinks about it, such conclusions seem like the most obvious thing in the word (at least for those familiar with the Zen way of thinking). And yet things are not that simple.

And yet James is right. The pursuit of Happiness, Perfection and Oder has been at the core of our western 'civilisation' for more than 2000 years. Such feat has been proven impossible to reach time and time again, hence our resigned willingness to subscribe to consoling imaginary concepts such as the after-life. We still at large tend to identify Happiness with either Holiness or Money, stubbornly persisting in giving credit to failed religious, philosophical and economic systems constructed to take care of our flawed anxieties and needs. 

Freeing ourselves from the falsehoods which mislead and confuse our ways of life would be a beautiful thing, yet this can only be achieved by becoming reacquainted with our own true nature in a truly honest, fearless way. To seek solutions by shifting back to an idealised past and mythological illusions is what most resort to, because it's EASIER: we are the masters of Delusion, after all. Conversely, we should rejoice each time we manage to challenge our ideas and beliefs head on in our individual daily life, in our very own little microcosm. Because, like small pond clusters hidden in the depths of a mountain forest, every little microcosm within us brims with the seeds of a better future. 

TRANSIENCE by STEVEN WILSON

I was starting to defrost so I stopped to take my gloves off and there it was: an absolute gem of a CD priced at £5 stared at me from a Sainsbury’s shelf! What more can a music lover wish for? Scots have always been into their quality music so I managed to scoop the very last copy of Steven Wilson’s Transience. I placed it in my shopping trolley alongside organic veggies, tofu, miso and cat litter, feeling content.

The album was released at the end of 2015 by K-Scope (home of Porcupine Tree, Anathema, Katatonia and Ulver, to mention but a few) but wasn’t exactly hailed as a major event. Compilations are deemed more suitable for cheesy pop acts desperate to squeeze a few extra coins out of their gullible fans while…er, they’re doing their weekend shopping down the local supermarket, right? Whatever the prog elites thought of this odd marketing choice, they should have at least felt a warm flush of condescending pride, because the CD - kindly offered as a taster of Wilson’s more ‘accessible’ work - is an utter delight. 

But of course, some of you will say, eyeballs rolling: it’s Steven-bloody-Wilson, the genus behind Porcupine Tree and many other projects! True enough. For those who are not overly familiar with this artist, let me tell you, the man is one of the few true living gods of Music. Having started to experiment with strange sounds from the age of 11 (he’s now 50), he possesses superlative finesse when it comes to crafting flawless arrangements, gorgeous melody structures and matching lyrical content. Come to it, he also possesses an expressively dreamy voice that complements his works to perfection. Amongst the main influences he likes to quote we have Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Jethro Tull, Krautrock, Donna Summer (early trancey electronica) and mavericks such as XTC and The Cardiacs. Add cinema to the equation and you have a wondrous scenario. As he delved heart and soul (never wanted to start a family in order to maintain his commitment to music and art intact - definitely a kindred spirit!) in shaping his prog/psychedelic/avantgarde/ambient/drone projects, becoming one of the most celebrated guitarists and an accomplished multi-instrumentalist, he went on to inspire scores of fellow-musicians, influencing progressive metal bands such as Opeth, Obscura and Leprous. 

As the compilation name suggests, Transience presents the more ethereal, melodic side of Wilson. The album assemblage was curated by the artists himself, therefore it benefits from the perfect song choice and immaculate sequence. The material was chosen entirely from his solo catalogue spanning between 2003 and 2015 (with the exception of “Lazarus”, from the Porcupine Tree album XX: the track was re-recorded for the occasion). In total we have 14 songs whose ‘accessibility’ can be traced mainly in their length (no 15” long epics here, with the exception of the stunning “Drive Home”, which is over 7” long) and in the melodic dreaminess delivering a soothing yet dazzling sensorial experience.

Transience repeatedly hits the spot as far as effortless class and transfixing beauty are concerned. Only “Happiness III”, placed in the second part of the album, hints at a poppy flavour with a ‘happy’ chorus which raises a sudden ripple in the otherwise cohesive flow of the work. In reality here we are introduced to Wilson’s admiration for the shameless eclecticism of artists like The Cardiacs and XTC, who deliberately transfigured the face of pop music with their irony, idiosyncrasy and love of vintage psychedelia. Wilson's wonderful guitar solos, which glide with a shimmering fluidity that touches transcendence, provide superb accents for the prog fan. I also enjoyed the cool saxophone solo in “The Pin Drop”, which immediately brought Leprous and Shining (NO) to mind. Other stand-out tracks are "Postcard", "Significant Other", the darker "Insurgentes" and the gorgeous, powerful and moving "Drive Home", with its unforgettable 2013 video.

There might be a lot of you who own most of Wilson’s works and therefore feel reluctant to invest in a compilation of his ‘accessible’ work. Well, this compilation is well worth owning. It will fill 1 hour and 8” of your time with absolute pleasure, and you will feel refreshed and inspired for it. To those who don’t know Steven’s solo work, but are perhaps more familiar with his other bands, such as Porcupine Tree or Storm Corrosion (the collaboration with Mikael Åkerfeldt of Opeth), here’s your chance to invest a mere fiver (currently sold on Amazon for just over £5 too) in exchange for some quality, soul-nourishing moments. And for the collector, you might still be able to find the unusual triple-sided vinyl version. In either case, you'll own something ageless that will enhance your life for years to come.

"Harmony Korine", "Significant Other" and "Insurgentes" taken from "Insurgentes" (2008).

"Postcard", "Deform to Form a Star" and "Index" taken drom "Grace For Drowning" (2011).

"The Pin Drop" and "Drive Home" taken from "The Raven That Refused to Sing" (2013).

"Transience", "Happy Returns" and "Hand Cannot Erase" taken from "Hand. Cannot. Erase." (2015).

"Thank You" taken from "Cover Version" compilation (originally recorded and released as a single in 2003).

"Lazarus" backing track recorded on tour in March 2015, final studio overdubs and mix July 2015.

Do catch Steven Wilson on tour across Europe this Spring: https://www.facebook.com/StevenWilsonHQ/app/123966167614127/

2018: The Journey Continues!

R.I.P. 3rd-Eye Magazine (March 2015-March 2017)

In early 2015 Wyrd's Flight was put on standby while I was working on the launch of my new collaborative online magazine, 3rd-Eye. The latter proved to be an exciting ride, until the paradigms of life suddenly shifted. I found myself lacking time and energy to keep up with the standards both readership and artists deserved. So, with the exception of a few ghostly headlines on Facebook, 3E is now lost forever... Despite the unfaltering generosity of some of my collaborators, I chose to let it go: my Zen heart always relishes a chance to explore the unsettling abysses of impermanence.

My heartfelt thanks go to those who shared the 2 year-long adventure with me: my wonderful and dear friends Geoff Birchenall (excellent co-editor), Paul Verhagen, Niels Vinck and Andreas Schiffmann. To the many, precious fleeting guests, some of whom are also dear friends: Thor Joakimsson, Guido Segers, Gareth Hodgson, Gavin Turner, Susanne Sinmara, Iñaki Campos, Tom Shilders, Nick Magur, Åsa Hagström, Ben Brown, Vanessaah Piti and J.K. Håbu. You gifted passion and time to the project and for that I'll always be grateful. Finally a big thank you to the professionals involved: Jasper Strik for designing the website and Fabban for the magazine logo.

My best 3E memories will inevitably be linked to Roadburn. The Tilburg festival is especially dear to my heart: it provided (and still does!) tons of amazing music and plentiful chances to expand my musical knowledge/life perspectives via close interaction with superb artists and dedicated fans/colleagues, whilst visiting a country I love, The Netherlands.

3rd-Eye was centred around the idea of travel as personal growth. In my and Geoff's mind, 3E was to slowly expand beyond planet-metal and he indeed pushed the envelope several times with his fantastic interviews. As for myself, my most significant non-metal contribution remains the tribute to my life-long hero David Bowie, following his death two years ago. 

Bowie in Japan (1973). The story goes that during one of the dates he took off his colourful Ziggy Stardust space-suit and threw it into the crowd. The fans scrambled to take a piece of the suit as a souvenir, but a few seconds later they realised that David was standing before them in a microscopic pink thong, so they invaded the stage like a horde of possessed meerkats. Unsurprisingly, the stage collapsed, but luckily non-one was hurt. 

Old Roots, New inspiration

In 2017 I took time out from music to dedicate myself to the final editing of my first novel, which is still work in progress due to my ruthless pruning and consequent plot re-shaping processes.
In the meantime, as ever, new ideas and objectives have begun to germinate. 

I have come to fully enjoy how every path I take, each new and disparate interest/passion I feel drawn to, weaves a brilliantly unifying thread. Thoughts and actions might appear to be spinning from and into multiple directions, but in reality (despite the inevitable dark holes and frazzled tears) the tapestry they form is one. A wyrd grid made of multiple interlinking co-ordinates, old and new, continues shaping a rather knobbly and intricate, yet organic and completely natural, human knot: me.

Stroking invisible woven threads as if they were the strings of a guitar, hopping across multiple trajectories as if they were the keys of a piano, I am still jumping on the elastic grid of my inner world as if it were a trampoline into the cosmos.  That's exactly what Wyrd's Flight has always been about: reaching out to catch fragments of reflective light and darkness to compose my own kaleidoscopic image of the universe.  

Individual consciousness (may I remind you that it's an atheist mind with a pagan heart writing) ripples quite uniquely across the unified ocean-like surface of consciousness. It is as if we live afloat a 2D surface, only occasionally peering at the sky above and the underwater haze below. Like the protagonists of my novel, my aim has always been to merge sky and ocean into a whole 4D dream-reality of unabashed mythological nature. Rekindling the small fire of this personal blog is therefore an inevitable necessity, as it serves as melting pot for some of the old & new ingredients I collect during my explorations.

WF was initially created to express my love towards the idiosyncrasies of life, to celebrate what exists beyond the obvious, the mainstream, the norm. It was created to share thoughts, emotions and revelations ignited by seeking out and witnessing wondrous events, be it man-made or natural creations... Well, 2018 will bring life-changing choices for many, including myself, therefore, in alignment with 3rd-Eye's goal, I shall broaden this wee blog's horizon to reach beyond the rituals of metal. Like the characters of my novel would say, let's embrace our dreams and create a parallel dimension where we can make them thrive, no matter what spirit-bashing ugliness goes on around us! 

WF has been and will be one of the threads in my personal parallel dimension, and perhaps a small oasis where some of you can also occasionally fly to, if anything just to scratch your head and say 'What's the madwoman up to now?!'

I have created a slideshow to mark the reopening of this blog (apologies for the format, but this is definitely not a swanky kind of blog: please watch in full screen mode if you can!). It comprises of 35 photographs (13 of which were not shot by me) which suggest some of my past, present and future inspiration. Art, music, passions, laughs and tears, it creates an intensely wyrd life-pattern my soul recognises as quintessentially her own. 

Crazy Love indeed...

MUSIC by Chelsea Wolfe: "Crazy Love" from Abyss. 

PLEASE WATCH IN FULL SCREEN MODE.

CREDITS: 13 photos used in the above slideshow are not mine. These are: all of Kaiji Moriyama's (photo 13 & 34: portraits by Sedato Ishizuka), the Yab/Yum Tantric Tibentan art, the mural by Vigeland, Date Masamune and Sarutobi Sasuke from the anime Sengoku Basara, the Noh mask (by Toshiro Morita), the b/w samurai, the b/w cloud formation, the Torii gate, David Bowie in space-clown attire. Regretfully, I can only fully credit three of these fabulous photos/images. 

No credits available for the 3 photos used in this post.