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  • Archive for June, 2011

    I am in love with drifting!


    2011 - 06.28

    HERE ARE THE VIDEOS! Yesterday was amazing. I was literally unable to put into words what it felt like- not only being in the car as it was doing these crazy stunts, but also finally getting access to an underground  subculture I thought would be impenetrable, and discovering that everyone was kind, supportive badasses instead of the elitist, exclusionary badasses I assumed they would be. Their welcoming attitude has given me the courage to take my interests in these sorts of things seriously, and discard the paradoxical idea that I somehow already need to know everything about a subject before it’s appropriate for me to show interest, get involved with people who do it or try it myself.

    The Experience

    Mio picked me up at the train station and brought me to the race track at Mobara Twin Circuit. She told me the bad news that her husband’s car was dead- he had been practicing (for taking me out, aww!) and something gave way so it won’t run. But, she said, have no fear- she had another friend, Suzuki-sensei, who even spoke English, who would be giving me a ride. The first thing we saw was a motorcycle course with like 15+ elementary kids riding these chibi bikes (Pokebai, “pocketbikes” apparently), dressed in race uniforms and taking curves such that their knees grazed the ground… on the spot I vowed to be a parent cool enough to support my children if they ever want to do something this awesome!

    Then we walked up to the car course and I heard, and then saw, my first drifting cars in person. In moments I was overcome with that feeling that allows me to identify something as ’sexy’, and said so to Mio, who laughed and said that in Japanese they never refer to men as sexy. Well, this was definitively sexy to me. I asked later how fast they were going with they cut into drifting around the curves, and because the track is not so big with only short straightaways, they are going ‘only’ about 100kph, or 70mph. Imagine driving along on the freeway, then immediately making a 130 degree turn! And drifting is not normal turning because (as best as I understand it right now) one of your axles stays still (relative to the direction of the road), used as a pivot for the other axle which slides sideways in an arc. You do this by some crazy balance between braking and accelerating simultaneously while of course steering into and out of the curve such to customize the direction you’re going. Then, as you get lined up in the new angle, you gun it to escape the turn. Since the tires are sliding sideways, more smoke means you are doing it right (the rubber is melted and torn off) and at a more impressive speed than a drift with less smoke. So there was also a sexy burned rubber smell to the place, too.

    Watching the cars drift was thrilling, and I got a sense for the right approach angle and the timing for when they would initialize their drift, whether they would stay in it, what their exit would look like; I felt like I was beginning to understand the mechanics after only watching for a few minutes. Like when I watch martial arts or listen to adroit music solos, my body began to respond with little involuntary muscle actions synchronized with what I was watching. I couldn’t wait to get in a car and feel it from the inside! But I never wanted to stop watching, either. They started a race and they guy who was going to drive me was doing really well in it, but then had to leave the course because a ring came loose in his engine. I joked that I was bad luck, since the cars who were supposed to take me kept breaking, but he just needed to replace the pipe sleeve thing and then it was time for me to ride!

    Mio had warned me to wear all-covering clothes, and they gave me a helmet and gloves. Then I got strapped in with over both shoulders hardcore straps, into a bucket seat that made me totally nostalgic. Then we headed to the track. I turned on the camera, but only glanced at it now and then when I decided I wanted to record his technique or the view. My body and mind were focused on absorbing as much as possible.

    As soon as he accelerated my whole body relaxed and I had this, “I’m home” feeling. There is something about speed that just feels right to me. And when we approached the first curve where I felt he was ready to drift, I remember knowing the moment he was going to make his move and what it would feel like. As it happened, and as it aligned with my prediction, I had this incredible sense of rightness come over me, like this is what I am. I can do this. I have this inside me. Not in the limited sense of drifting or driving, but this experience of being on the edge of capability. Where my senses need to kick in, my body needs to be awake, my intuition and calculation and reaction time and muscle memory all need to be tapped, in harmony, to pull something off. But no processing, no planning, no concentrating. There was only the moment, taking in information, acting spontaneously. I think I was flitting along the outer boundary of ‘flow’, the concept of mushin (無心) that I have read about in martial arts. It felt… well, perfect. It was exciting and exhilarating and challenging and fascinating and beautiful and fun and so many other things, but really I spent the whole time alternating between the briefest of moments touching this feeling of rightness, and then basking in awe of what I was feeling, what my mind and body were doing. Because I was busy, even though I was not driving.

    On our fourth lap I closed my eyes, loosened my grip on the handle and relaxed my muscles so I could shift freely with the car. It was like floating in the ocean. It felt like I could do that forever. I could feel when he was going to drift us. As I settled in, I thought I could feel the tires go in and out of gripping, and once I thought I could differentiate between the left and right back tires. In the first video, at 5:30, he asks if it is fun, if I am scared. The question seemed so odd to me- what is there to be scared of? I truly wasn’t at all scared, which I realize is telling. I mean, I don’t know this guy or his skills, but I suppose I trusted him to not crash. Most people would probably need to establish trust with their driver before letting them drive in a sport which could be defined as ‘try to half-crash yourself then get out of the crash’. But I don’t think I was bypassing this need for trust, I just think I could tell that he was a good driver really fast. The feel of his driving was similar to mine, I remembered thinking as we made the first turn. So I must have tested his trust nonverbally, I guess. and that kind of matches with my instant unease when I am being driven by someone whose style doesn’t match my own- I can tell almost immediately whether I will be comfortable with a friend’s driving- though I love to drive so much I am also a bit of a control freak about this, as my sister will tell you.

    So when I tell him I’m not at all scared, he says, “Very strong girl!”, which made me glow with pride, I have to admit. I told him it made me want to learn, and I swear, 2 seconds later when we got to the main curve, he kicked it up a notch- we went faster, the drift was tighter and he held it longer- we got so close to the median that I wanted to leap and cheer- and then he sustained that attitude into the next curve! It felt like he was believing me and not holding back, and/or testing that I really wasn’t scared by really showing me how it was done. I was so grateful to him in that moment, that he could take me seriously. Suzuki-sensei became a mini-hero to me then! The last time we took that wide curve we followed another car in so I got to have the thrill of watching the distance close as we drifted in parallel! I think we kind of drove him onto the exit ramp! Then he made a point of doing drifts for the middle section which we hadn’t really done too much before and it was a really rhythmic feeling going from one side to the next. But after 11 minutes, his engine was too hot so we had to back, and he had already done three heats that day, so that was it. I am so glad I have the video!

    When we got back to the lot we sat around and talked about drifting technique, drifting culture, how to modify a miata so I can do drifting when I buy my rainbow miata someday (it needs more engine power, but it looks like the MX-5 is the way to go), where the secret drifting spots are around Tokyo and LA(!), and randomly, dermatology, as Suzuki-sensei turns out to be a dermatologist (thus he has two meanings for his honorific- doctor and umai (skillful) driving!). Ha! I was telling stories about my country-girl antics and explaining poison oak and my sensitive skin with dermographia (I had a raised scratch so I was demonstrating by drawing things on my arms) when he brought out a tube of hydrocortisone as a gift! I haven’t been able to find any here, so it was a perfect gift! So random! We just talked about random stuff for a while and then the track was being closed so I got a ride back to the station. Mio asked about my novel so I got to explain some of it, too, and she complimented me. By the time I got on the train I was full to bursting with good feelings. What a day!

    (more…)

    drift racing tomorrow!


    2011 - 06.25

    So it turns out that one of my students who is my age has done drift racing since she was 18. My friend and her old teacher Chris mentioned this fact and I asked her about it and it turns out she knows some famous racers/drifters (?) Masayoshi Tokita (at 5:30 in the Toyota) and Kuniaki Takahashi! Then today, she sent me a link to her husband’s win and invited me to go to the Mobara race tomorrow where I’ll be able to ride in the passenger seat!!!!!! I can not even tell you how much I am freaking out about how frikkin badass this is going to be! I am so pumped!

    In other news, I will most likely end up at the Musician’s Institute in LA for music school. I’ll be sending in my app next week and they’ll get back to me by July 8th so I can make arrangements. Easy financial aid, back to California where I have come to believe might be the only place in the world with the weather and ocean I need. Plus this program includes private lessons which was almost a deal breaker at BIMM for me. My only concerns are the cost of living (but I’ll be able to work full time since I won’t be on a student visa), LA being gross (but the school is in West Hollywood aka rich gayland and maybe I can swing living in Venice Beach or Santa Monica) and being on the wrong continent for the metal genre I want to join, but I’m sure it will be good enough.

    Fighting with Audacious Beauty


    2011 - 06.19

    Hearing that I won’t be able to get financial aid to attend music school catalyzed something in me that has been waiting a lifetime to awaken.
    Before I had even finished reading the letter, my mind was whirling with alternative plans- something that could make up for what was lost so I wouldn’t feel the pain of losing it. I am consciously holding off my grief until this news is confirmed, but I had actually given up on it the moment my brain processed what I had read… and maybe before. I saw “regret” and “loans” and already the inner voice ‘… not so bad, it was a nice idea but it doesn’t really matter, we’ll do something else just as awesome so it’s not such a big deal…’.
    That’s a lie.
    Going to music school, no, not just music school, but this music school and the city and country and area of the world and the university clubs and housing and language and proto-friends I have already found there- these are extremely important to me. They motivate me throughout my day. Even the tiniest daydreams of my life there are woven close to my heart. For eight months I have put everything into making this happen. I began to sing and listen to music again, worked through my inability to tolerate my own talent and promise as a musician, learned how to listen critically and lovingly to my own voice and performance, allowed others to support and acknowledge what this meant to me and for the course of my life, and most of all, I let myself dream with an audaciousness I had never tried before. Dreaming ‘big’ has always been natural to me ever since I was child, profoundly lonely and utterly alone; those dreams were my solace. But the dreams I am finding now are of a different sort- they are precious, fragile, tender creatures hidden in the shadows of myself that drive so much of my fierce integrity and love of life that to share them with others, let alone look them in the face, makes me afraid they will shatter simply from the knowledge that if I die without these experiences I will be incomplete, I will have missed my destiny, I will not have become myself. And going to BIMM has many, many of these precious threads woven into it. I was somewhat aware of them, but when my going to BIMM was suddenly threatened they stood out like lightning against the black.
    These dreams are not ones that can be substituted for other adventures. I can’t just let BIMM go because a seemingly insurmountable obstacle has appeared. Maybe I will not be able to reach the summit in time to attend this year, and if so, then I will figure out the best way to preserve the preciousness. But what really interests me is how I responded to this threat. When China turned out to not be what I had hoped, I changed my plans to Japan and executed them with only a relatively minimal amount of processing and was happy with the result even though I am not actively doing martial arts now. But there is something about what I associate with BIMM being threatened that elicited submission from me. It was as if the secret of what really mattered to me had been discovered and would be utterly destroyed as a matter of course until it was lost to me completely, with no chance of salvaging the essence of why I loved it so dearly and what it meant to me.
    I know why I have been conditioned to feel that way. I have spent the last six years working to understand why I carry such darkness with me in such contrast to my innate brightness. But now, having watched my reaction to this threatened loss, I am more interested in the effect than the cause. When I immediately began to imagine substitutes for that irreplaceable something, the feeling in my body was one of letting go after something has been yanked out of your grasp, turning your back on someone you want to embrace, apologizing after a fight when you think you were right, saying ‘I love you’ under coercion, forced smiles when you’re devastated, standing back up after getting knocked down only to walk away. It was giving up, surrender. These sensations live in my belly, my breasts, my shoulders, my buttocks. But there was a secondary feeling enveloping the surrender; one of inhibited running, punches held back, tears stuck in throat, tightness everywhere as if I need to hold my organs in with my muscles alone. These sensations run cold over my skin, and if I am very quiet in myself, I can feel the strength in my limbs screaming to be freed. I want to run, hit, yell, explode- but I hold perfectly still, perfectly unthreatening, perfectly tame. I am frozen, trapped between flight and fight with no hope of either resulting in greater safety. On the outside I am trying to morph myself into whatever the other needs me to be in order to decide I am not a threat, so they will go away, leaving me to deal with the debris of my dreams.
    I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend I am not a threat to fragile people. I can’t cower under the scrutiny of people who don’t see who I am. I can’t sell out what’s important to me for fear of being mocked. I can’t live my life like I have something to be ashamed of. I can’t compromise away the essence of who I am. I can’t morph myself into an extension of others. I can’t step down when my life is on the line. I can’t settle for pale comparisons of what I want. I can’t worry about offending assholes. I can’t treat myself as if I am unsafe person. I can’t lie to myself about what I am willing to fight for. I can’t spend energy on convincing others that I am a good person. I can’t talk myself out of working my ass off for the things that matter to me. I can’t confuse myself over the difference between violence and movement. I can’t give up anything else. I can’t. I literally can’t stand it anymore. I can’t deny that I am fire, and if you get in the way of my destiny, you are going down in flames.
    I am done fucking around. I am not a nun, I am a warrior. I am not lawful good, I am chaotic neutral. I am not waiting, I am living. I am not here for you, I am here for me. And I AM a threat to assholes and cowards and bullies and authority and denial and tradition and morality and religion and stupidity and repression and arbitrary limits and ignorance and spiritual bypass and hate and boredom and ambivalence and excessive virtue and silence and ugliness and evil and propriety and shame and cruelty and apathy and labels and abuse and laziness and fallacy and liars and tyrants and false empowerment and selfishness and negativity and asceticism and people who are easily startled. I will rock your worlds and I will not apologize.
    There is no fucking way I am going to look back when I’m dying and regret not doing the things I could have done if only I had summoned the courage to step over that line between comfortable and audacious. I can SEE the uninhibited life right in front of me. Even if it means leaving everyone else behind, I must do this. I must find out what it’s like when I get out of my own way.
    So I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to BIMM in the fall, but it will not be because I accepted defeat.
    I am not frozen, and I am not fleeing.
    I am fighting.

    And here is a painting of my rainbow fire aura to remind me of it.

    Rainbow Flames, the aura of the fighter.

    &!*@#$(@)*#*#*@*!


    2011 - 06.17

    I’m holding off despair until it is super-confirmed, but I was just notified that I will not be able to use my US fin aid at my music school in the UK, which means I cannot attend.

    I am incredibly angry and disappointed, ESPECIALLY because I did a ton of research on which schools would accept the aid AND I confirmed it via phone and email on various occasions starting before I even applied. Of course, because I am Sequoia I will do something neat with my life regardless, but I can’t even tell you how much I wanted to go… how hard I worked to go.

    Part of me has always had trouble believing I would be able to do this, and that part was coming up with alternate plans half-way through reading the letter. It’s nice that I have such a creative and forward-moving coping strategy, but I also need to mourn this particular dream if it’s really not going to happen. But I am going to wait for that until I know for sure from all parties involved.

    Interestingly, I woke up today after having an unsettling dream and I was out of sorts all day today, and then I get this news right after journaling about how I need to really let in that I am going to be in music school in four months. Itai.

    Tanoshikatta! 楽しかった!


    2011 - 06.12

    I had an amazingly fun night out with Yukihiro Hamada, Chris May, Saori Muranaka, Nozomi Kitadai, Anthony Gerard Odtohan, Mio and a bunch of other amazing ningen!

    Favorite moment: An elderly student of Chris’ saying “kono bishoujo” gesturing to me by mistake, then seeing it was me and saying “chi gau!” Everyone laughed and said “chi gau ja nai!” and I couldn’t stop laughing for ages!

    Translation- he referred to me as a beautiful woman when he was talking about someone who had been standing there a moment before, and when he saw it was a different person he said “wrong/different!”… which was easy to interpret as if he just discovered that I wasn’t beautiful after all! Then everyone stuck up for me saying it wasn’t wrong to say I was beautiful. Hilarity.

    This guy also asked me to sing the Star Spangled Banner for him and was like really moved when i did. he was quite an interesting experience.
    :)

    I’m sad that Yukihiro (one of the managers at my school) is leaving as he’s my only real Japanese friend and tons of fun, but he’s moving up in the world so I wish him the best. Chris has been gone for many weeks and Tuesdays just aren’t the same, but since I will be leaving soon anyway, it almost makes it easier since it can’t be helped that they’re gone; sho ga nai. BUT! We promised to out to karaoke together before I leave so I mustn’t get shy and miss that opportunity!