Posted on Sunday, 08/11/24.

The weather continues to be uniformly forbidding, though the consistency offers something that feels like respite, in that there is no question what will be encountered outside. Today was spent picking through the labyrinthine malls of 渋谷, spurred by a need to get a case and ink pad for my new name seal (a task that was accomplished in the first ten minutes). In truth I haven’t spent much time in these malls before, having some sort of low-grade fear of spending money unnecessarily.

I noticed that the malls were air conditioned to differing levels; the ハンズ store Formerly known as 東急ハンズ, apparently, which is what I remember from 2017, though they’ve now dropped the parent company name, and added a logo in the form of a stylized glyph for 手. was the least air conditioned, and laid out in what can only be described as an insane 8+ split-level design where each ‘floor’ was broken into three sub-floors, each offset by about half a floor from one another, e.g., floors 6A, 6B, 6C, with an intervening staircase. The joint 渋谷ロフト・無字良品 store was moderately air conditioned and better stocked than ハンズ (it was here I picked up the case, with ハンズ not having one for the right diameter). Finally were malls like PARCO, which were so air conditioned that the entire, open-air pavilion at least five meters in front of the main entrance was, despite being in full sunlight and surrounded by only one wall (the entrance façade), legitimately frigid due to the open doors blasting interior air despite the ambient temperature only a few more meters away possibly breaking triple digits given radiation from the white concrete and paving stones surrounding.

On the fourth floor of 渋谷ロフト I picked up and tilted in my hands one of the Flower Deep 27 pour-over sets, which are taller and thinner than I had imagined, but which I won’t buy until I am settled somewhere, and instead of which I might prefer something like the Hario Switch anyway, though both are not likely to dramatically improve anything but the soft-held opinions of any guests (likely seldom) who are around when I am making pour-over at home. I held various thermi Declared here to be the plural. and scrutinized various bento containers and compact insulated lunch bags done in collaboration with well-known brands only for the Japanese market.

From 渋谷 I worked back along the 半蔵門線 to 神保町, buying a postcard featuring only an incredibly detailed headshot of a very young Rob Lowe because it felt humorous, less like a purchase given its eventual mailing. I learned that the antique map store I like to go 秦川堂書店. As I look up the name of the store again I see there is an Instagram post that it has moved, not closed, which relieves some of the initial sadness, as I could have also believed it was unable to make rent. to has vacated its usual location. I continued down the main street, clinging to patches of shadow punched out by the tall buildings either side, idly flipping through the ephemera of a few familiar places, working eventually toward a station on the 丸ノ内線, which I took a couple stops to 本郷三丁目駅, whose nearby Starbucks (by the university) is where I’m typing this.

Tomorrow is a national holiday (or I suppose today is, and tomorrow is the specified day off), 山の日, though I don’t plan to go to a mountain to celebrate. On Tuesday I will have to organize a transfer of my apartment’s upfront costs before contract signing on Saturday, and move-in the following Wednesday. The visit regarding the transfer will have to be in person, given the amount just exceeding the specified transfer limit (which I already had to submit to be raised, given the relative youth of my account), but barring calamity should be straightforward, and permit me to begin thinking of other things. Yesterday was filled with disparate online forms regarding the organizing of utilities, many of which require an in-person visit on the day of move-in to take in any warnings, gather any personal information, and to physically manipulate the knobs and latches that enable gas, water, electricity, and digital data to flow.

I have had to consider things like tables and chairs, refrigerators and washing machines, bookshelves, futons and futon covers, and other more trivial items like area rugs and sitting cushions, though nothing is ordered yet. I believe I can organize the arrival times for such objects precisely, such that they arrive simultaneous to me, which would be strange and astounding; but it is still a little too early, I think, and I hesitate to commit to anything before my name is affixed to a contract. Still, I can feel myself begin to unreasonably fetishize objects I might eventually own; the natural-dyed linen sheet sets from 無字 in subtle striped patterns, the low wooden tables for too much at ニトリ, or the mid-century modern consignment shop nearby to my prospective apartment.

My schedule continues to begin around 5 or 6, and I continue to go to sleep early, letting jetlag persist; I imagine this can only last so long: until the first extended night, whether due to having social obligations or in the extreme apathy that compels one to watch YouTube to sunrise. The sun appears so early here that waking up when I do is encouraged, the days extended and bright, and staying up into the evening pointless. Still, something has kept me from long-duration, focused, pleasing work (though whatever this something is extends to before my coming here, is the fearful truth), and I hope a new, long term place to live, a basically wrought schedule, etc., will permit long quiet mornings, maybe punctuated by the use of a Flower Deep 27, during which I can experience the sort of manic engrossment I seem to recall from summers in late high school and early college. The street I will be on should be quiet. The windows, north facing, should permit cool outlook onto brightly lit things (as in my first Cambridge apartment). I have been given money to buy a personal rollable whiteboard, which could amusingly dominate a corner of my apartment, meshing with some idea of what someone like me should be doing, were they only able to focus.

It is a poor thing that my idea of a satisfying, engrossed life is tied up with branded objects, purchases to be made. Maybe less offensive is the idea that the books I left so much room for in my suitcases will be out again, on some low-slung bookshelf made of maybe boards and cinder-blocks. A few posters can be pinned carefully to the walls. Objects I care about and engage with might be given an active role again in my direct surroundings, rather than some sterile use as memory storage, against some awful truth relating to that I can never be as young as I was at any moment previous to this one, which while sort of dumb still slides in slowly and insidiously at certain late times when my guard is down.

The cafe has filled with Sunday afternoon workers, mainly students, it feels, though some in their 30s and 40s, either idly chatting or tapping away at a laptop. Most wear wire-rimmed glasses, which feel academic adjacent here more-so than in Cambridge. The shot-glass-sized paper cup of sample coffee the barista gave me in addition to my cold brew has gone cold itself now (I drank only half), and soon I will start to wear out my welcome. The ready adoption of Starbucks as a study space is good; they are open often until 9 or 10 at more central locations like this one, and open at 7 or 8, with good wifi. I imagine all species of silent desperation have been in here.

A few days ago I took a photo of a moldering persimmon in the entrance-way of my temporary lodgings, and during a fitful morning produced the edited image below. The text, カビガキ (kabigaki), combines the word for mold (カビ・黴), and persimmon (カキ・柿), and is a pleasant quasi-repetitious sequence of four kana. I imagine it, in some sense, like the name of a special persimmon variety, one which is only ripe when it is blanketed in a fine white fur.

カビガキ.