At a buzzed-about wagashi shop, a seasonal winter treat—a delicate monaka—was my final indulgence of the day.

The crisp, fragrant shell and the elegant, chunky sweet bean paste made my cheeks soften with delight.



It makes me glad to be Japanese. Speaking of which, it's cherry blossoms. It's hanami.

The night cherry blossoms were beautiful.

On the way home from the udon shop, I caught a glimpse of the Meguro River, its banks imbued with the festive atmosphere of night cherry blossoms.



Brrr, it’s cold. Huh? Snow?
The effects of global warming cannot be underestimated.
The creeping crisis of humanity and the night cherry blossoms.
Who would have predicted in my youth that such a time would come?
Youth never ends. That's our characteristic, but...
I don't have that "things were better back then" feeling, but...
There are also miraculous singing voices that reside only in the fleeting brilliance of youth. I stumbled upon this song on YouTube today—Burt Bacharach & Hal David, with Aretha and Dionne. How captivated I was by these two singers. The phrase 'youth is good' can easily become vulgar, but in the sense of a fleeting brilliance, it's an irreplaceable, eternal charm. It's probably best to just humbly bow down without pretense now.







Speaking of which,
In a British film, The Collector
The Collector
http://bit.ly/n0bQsS

There was a work depicting the delusions of a perverted young man, but thinking back now, though I didn't realize it then, it sharply carved out a certain essence lurking deep within the human psyche. Probably. Whether it's taking photos, making movies, or recording songs, in the sense of capturing a moment, the passion remains the same, and the desire is singular. In terms of my own creative drive, the urge to capture a single moment is an unavoidable desire.
Still, YouTube is truly a time machine.
How can I express my gratitude to anyone for the joy of rediscovering the songs I dreamed of back then? Tonight, I want to return to my virgin days. I don't want to return. But it makes me want to cry.

Dionne Warwick Live Paris 1966



← Diary-T 237-242