Last Sunday, we enjoyed an exhibit of ukiyoe paintings at the Kamakura Museum (Katsushika Hokusai’s “Drunken Beauty” was only one of the many delights). Then after the temptations of the floating world, we walked from the Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine to Kita-Kamakura station. Along the way—passing temples, bo-ho cafes, restaurants, tourist shops, and old homes—we were tantalized by the Japanese life that we glimpse but cannot touch.
We stopped at a ceramics shop in pursuit of more Japanese dishes that I do not need but very much desire. I saw some plates that were glazed an uneven off-white, with a hand-made, organically oval shape. When I exclaimed and picked up one to show Carlos, the shop’s owner said with satisfaction, “Oh, those were made by my friend.” I wanted to step ever so slightly inside, but didn’t know how. So, we bought the five plates and went home to our own private world.
