Slum Sweet Slum

Welcome
to a dimly seen view of my space

The woman above is painted onto a red rayon cloth, given to me as a present by some visiting Japanese high-school students. She added most of the color to my room other than the Christmas lights, quietly brightening my ever-open closet. I've decided that these pictures will be in no particular order (in fact, they're vertically in alphabetical order by filename... fancy). Kudos to anyone who can guess which three were doctored to have the same reddish tinge that the other four came out with naturally.

A reflection-laden view from the door towards the bottom of my bed. Cars, christmas lights, candles, streetlights, and a tiny oil lamp all contributed to the nice rosy light I could develop in my room when I tried. My stereo is hiding in the darkness there, a Bose beauty whose only hint in this picture is the small green blip between the solitary lower candle and the corner. The left-hand vertical poster is simply the cover to my kabuki calendar; I'm able to read that it's a 2000 picture calendar, but not much else. To the uninitiated, however, it could be anything. Progressing over, Hokusai's Wave, and a black blotch that's actually another Hokusai print, of a man looking over a streaming waterfall.

More reflections, beloved for the illusion of extra space they added to the room. I typed this in 2000, turned around, watching headlights flow by the twirling red and yellow of a tow truck across the way. The vertical poster is a third Hokusai, also of a waterfall, with a huge fish peeking out of the froth at the bottom. The mirror and its extra "candles," barely visible stuffed animals, and the farthest right candle, which burned out by the time I finished taking pictures. A comfortable, cosy corner, complete with a hidden-around-the-corner-of-the-shelf velcro patch holding up my stereo remote.

A picture I almost threw out, but kept for the interesting light patterns. Pretty highlights on the Box, a clearer view of the important-looking calendar characters. I think I tried to keep such a warm light in my room to offset how absolutely flipping FREEZING it actually was that winter. It lent some psychological warmth, but as I shivered there, cradling a bowl of oatmeal that I was loath to eat and lose its warmth to my hands, I bet I wasn't certain that it was quite doing its job.

Homey view of my desk, just to the left of my normal sitting perspective. List: keys, Leatherman, application to Hokkaido International Foundation, bank invoices, Jesse's Himiko Den, cup with Pocky packets, kanji flashcards, minute katana, lighter, lamp, candle, spindle of CDs, the Box, black Post-Its, vase with pens, glinting silvered Erlenmeyer flask. Did you care? No. But someday, I may be curious what things I kept on my desk. It's rather a shame that the icicles weren't visible. Perhaps the candle kept them at bay.

What I saw when I lay down, and know now that this was a difficult picture to get, considering that I wanted the lights in at the top AND the candle at the bottom. I failed in my goal, but there's a tad bit of light down there nonetheless. Pretty shadows from the gargoyle lamp. It was a Christmas present from my brother many years ago, and laid in disuse, its candle-holder empty, for the years in the dorms. No longer neglected, he watched over my bed, light flickering from his well as it should have for such a long time before.

The view from my bed towards the door. Someday I will reconcile myself to pictures during the day, or to using the flash, but for now, my Hokusai cat, my fuse-box-hiding scarf, and my Escher pond will go unappreciated. The lights trailed up the middle of this wall because for all the plethora of outlets in my room, none save one were located near a corner, and my stereo and paper lamp had long since called dibs on that one by the time I got the lights up.

The view that makes all the pain and personal endangerment that I went through to put my lights up more than worthwhile.