Home

Is where my stuff is. And today my stuff is in London, with the routines and the complacencies and the discomforting familiarity. And a head fogged with jetlag and a body yearning for another time zone and the tastes for other cultures and sights.

So I'm back from Asia. From days in stunning Tokyo and steaming Singapore. I wanted to go for so long that I can't believe I've been but with the jetlagged brain I can't believe a lot of things at the moment. I'm confused and dazed and overwhelmed by trying to describe the experiences. From the instant camaradery with clients and colleagues thrust into social situations and shared travels to the things I wanted to file and remember and tell about what I learned.

It felt effortlessly brave to wander and do it all. Armed only with a handful of Japanese phrases and a camera. And perhaps more brave to jump in and join the social swirl of people I didn't know. Shy, painful, awkward but enjoying it nonetheless - the creating memories from extraordinarily imposed familiarity.

So I can't describe it. Not the contradiction of Tokyo - crowded, teeming and yet peaceful and calm. Or the equatorial heat of Singapore with its jungle green and gleaming new architecture. The postmodern consumer spectacle and the zen-ness of temples or colonial-ness of hotel verandahs. Maybe someday. But not today. The pictures crowd and fight for meaning and I'm too weakened to find the thoughts or the words.