Issue 13 • April 2014
or Yugen Means Half
The Japanese knew our secrets before we could ever hope to have them. If you find yourself at a ten, they said; move slow. Bear performing at a seven. Here is a mask. Tilt and light it how you will and it remains wooden. This should suffice: the range caught from shadow and light.
Surely it was after this device that we began living as such: so that when I pour you a cup of tea on a Tuesday, I am not just punctuating the afternoon, but attempting to show something of wrist. So that when you shrug your shoulders at the very first sip, I cannot help but see the entire week’s afternoons, punctuated already.