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"The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever."
Doctrine and Covenants 121:46
I reworked my piece "Virtue", which was originally taken over two years ago! Generally I don't go back to finished pieces, but I felt like this one needed to look like it belong with the rest of my Value series and therefore needed updating.
A really nice evening on saturday, we went to that nice place at Straumsvík to watch northern lights! and you have all these old summerhouses so classy for a nice scenery!
An aurora (Norðurljós in Icelandic) is a natural light display in the sky particularly in the high latitude (Arctic and Antarctic) regions, caused by the collision of energetic charged particles with atoms in the high altitude atmosphere (thermosphere). The charged particles originate in the magnetosphere and solar wind and, on Earth, are directed by the Earth's magnetic field into the atmosphere. Aurora is classified as diffuse or discrete aurora. Most aurorae occur in a band known as the auroral zone, which is typically 3° to 6° in latitudinal extent and at all local times or longitudes. The auroral zone is typically 10° to 20° from the magnetic pole defined by the axis of the Earth's magnetic dipole. During a geomagnetic storm, the auroral zone expands to lower latitudes.
The diffuse aurora is a featureless glow in the sky that may not be visible to the naked eye, even on a dark night. It defines the extent of the auroral zone. The discrete aurorae are sharply defined features within the diffuse aurora that vary in brightness from just barely visible to the naked eye, to bright enough to read a newspaper by at night. Discrete aurorae are usually seen only in the night sky, because they are not as bright as the sunlit sky. Aurorae occasionally occur poleward of the auroral zone as diffuse patches or arcs (polar cap arcs), which are generally invisible to the naked eye.
In northern latitudes, the effect is known as the aurora borealis (or the northern lights), named after the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora, and the Greek name for the north wind, Boreas, by Pierre Gassendi in 1621. Auroras seen near the magnetic pole may be high overhead, but from farther away, they illuminate the northern horizon as a greenish glow or sometimes a faint red, as if the Sun were rising from an unusual direction. Discrete aurorae often display magnetic field lines or curtain-like structures, and can change within seconds or glow unchanging for hours, most often in fluorescent green. The aurora borealis most often occurs near the equinoctes. The northern lights have had a number of names throughout history. The Cree call this phenomenon the "Dance of the Spirits". In Europe, in the Middle Ages, the auroras were commonly believed a sign from God. (wikipedia)
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
A new tribute to the Blessed Virgin Mary, by expressionist artist Stephen B Whatley; inspired by a prayer to Our Lady of Mental Peace (below) from the prayer book The Illustrated Book of Mary ( 2010, William J Hirten Co., RI, USA).
Peace.
O Lady of Mental Peace,
Mother of Tranquility
and Mother of Hope,
look upon me in this time
of my weakness and unrest.
Teach my searching heart
to know that God's Love
for me is unchanging and
unchangeable, and, that
true human love can only
begin and grow by touching
His Love.
Let your gentle Peace -
which this world cannot give
- be always with me.
And, help me to bring this
same Peace into the lives
of others.
Our Lady of Mental Peace,
- Pray for me!
Pastel on paper. March 3, 2013.
23.4 x 16.5in
A Present Day Hideout -
Everyone needs a secret space to lay down a worn out mind. I wasn’t looking when I found it. Beneath the cascading slope of entangled tree roots, a discarded grotto endured the passages of time. Standing at the mouth of this rocky excavate, I stethoscope inquisitively into her world of darkness. The entrance seems like a divider between two realms, one of civilized life and the other, existence of a different kind. Who knows which is more advanced? The isolated cavity seems the perfect hiding place to burrow. In the bowels of the cool tunnel with rushing breeze, I tread cautiously upon the cutting rocks in case skeletons were used as stepping stones. As if in defence, heavy droplets arrowed down from above onto my head and jagged walls amplified my footsteps as warnings to… perhaps prehistoric bugs and things who love their everlasting night with unchanging loyalty. My primeval moment of going caveman was interrupted when an abrupt burst of wings flitted high and low over me. Whoa! King bats hanging down from the ceilings and crevices were spooked, and so was I. Suddenly the moon descended on the other side and threw her beam so bright it blinds. Hesitation grips me with her iron fist. For once, I was at a standstill and afraid to move forward. That beacon that tirelessly tries to entice, how long would it last? For three days and nights, Jonah was trapped in the belly of a whale. I don’t have that kind of staying power and will for certain. The thought of being entombed in pitch blackness within a dungeon of terrible length was unimaginable. Why should I take that risk? To quit or continue through the dark path not knowing where it leads was a dilemma. The puddle of hesitation lounging at my feet reflected my indecisiveness and an eyeless fish. A full minute had passed, I took a long deep breath and watched my soul walked towards the meteoric star shining steadily. I hope what lies at the end is the beginning of something beautiful. No flowers will refuse to bloom for fear of withering. Let it be.
(24 of 24)
As unchanging and static as mountains may be , when the clouds above drift and cast those shifting shadows on the precipitous slopes of rock and stone , these mountains look totally different from one moment to the next. This constant play of light and shade on the arid mountainscape , for me, is the quintessential image of Ladakh.
At sunset, the evening shadow cast by the surrounding peaks engulfs the ridge on which the Namgyal Tsemo Gompa (Leh) sits and finally swallows the gompa into darkness. Quite a sight to see from the vantage point of Shanti Stupa. Right here, the range has already been plunged into darkness while a little bit of light still lingers on the gompa..
Namgyal Tsemo Gompa, as seen from Shanti Stupa. Leh.
View large here
Tea room with a soft and unchanging atmosphere.
Nusfjord, Nordland, Norway
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There are shops like here, there. You enter them casually, because there isn't much to do at the end of this world. But suddenly, you are transported to another universe.
Nothing has changed since the beginning; everything is of an obvious simplicity that grabs you, fills you with emotion, and soothes you.
So you take a seat here, elsewhere, today in the past, where well-being has been present for ages.
The light is soft, a chiaroscuro that delicately dresses this haven.
There floats an ambient scent that you thought was lost forever. A virginal freshness mingling with a subtle woody scent of the place and sea salt. Then your sense of smell is tickled by steaming tea accompanied by the sweet and spicy warmth of cinnamon cakes.
The winter cold becomes a human warmth that envelops and comforts you.
The connection to the place, to the other, is nothing but a sweet delight.
You only want one thing: for this break to last forever, for time to stand still for you too.
So I try to capture the atmosphere and keep a record of this past, this present, to share it later.
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Il y a des commerces comme ici, là-bas. On y entre de façon anodine, parce qu'il n'y pas grand chose à faire au bout de ce monde. Mais d'un coup, vous êtes transportés, dans un autre univers.
Rien n'a changé depuis le commencement, tout est d'une simplicité évidente, qui vous happe, vous inonde et vous apaise.
Alors vous prenez place ici, ailleurs, aujourd'hui dans le passé, où le bien-être s'y est installé depuis des lustres.
La lumière est douce, un clair obscur qui habille avec délicatesse ce havre.
Il flotte un parfum d'ambiance que l'on croyait perdu à jamais. Une fraîcheur virginale où se mêle une subtile odeur boisée des lieux, et d'iode marin. Puis votre odorat est chatouillé par le thé fumant accompagné de la chaleur sucrée et épicée des gâteaux à la cannelle.
Le froid hivernal devient une chaleur humaine qui vous enveloppe et réconforte
Le rapport au lieu, à l'autre, n'est que douce gourmandise
.
Vous n'avez qu'une envie, c'est que cette pause s'éternise, que le temps reste suspendu pour vous aussi.
Alors j'essaie de capturer l'atmosphère et garder une trace de ce passé, présent, pour après le partager.
Je fais de l’Esprit Immuable ma Forteresse :
Fixé sur chaque instant présent de la vie,
L’Esprit immuable me protège des illusions et des remords,
Des rêves et des cauchemars.
Il me permet de vivre pleinement ce que j’ai à vivre
Et d’apprendre tout en demeurant en Harmonie avec l’Univers...
I make some Unchanging Spirit my Fortress:
Fixed to every present moment of the life,
The unchanging Spirit protects me from illusions and remorse,
Dreams and nightmares.
He allows me to live completely what I have to live
And to learn while living in accordance with the Universe...
Poem.
A steep, cobbled street.
Elegant half-timbered, Tudor houses
with overhanging upper storeys jostle
up and down this remarkable thoroughfare.
Medieval inns, hotels and boarding houses
crowd together from end to end.
A little imagination can remove the modern car
and fill this sharp gradient with locals,
merchants, visitors, smugglers, pilgrims and travellers.
For a thousand years wood-fired chimneys have
belched their smoke above and around the
oak timbers and pale wattle and daub panelled walls,
leaving their sooty signature.
With the sky grey and the atmosphere obscured,
this ancient road seems little changed from the 15th. century.
Its unchanging ambience seems to lock us in a time warp,
a reliable time-machine that
earns world-wide affection.
I am fatherless ~~ this is for the fatherless. May you be kept by the Father above.
Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.
1 Thes. 5:24
I will trust and not be afraid.
With thanks to Andrew for a super trip out - café treat, Our Place in Space, River of Light plus the Plinth artwork as an extra.
solarsystem.nasa.gov/solar-system/sun/in-depth
"The Sun is a 4.5 billion-year-old yellow dwarf star – a hot glowing ball of hydrogen and helium – at the center of our solar system. It’s about 93 million miles (150 million kilometers) from Earth and it’s our solar system’s only star. Without the Sun’s energy, life as we know it could not exist on our home planet. From our vantage point on Earth, the Sun may appear like an unchanging source of light and heat in the sky. But the Sun is a dynamic star, constantly changing and sending energy out into space. The science of studying the Sun and its influence throughout the solar system is called heliophysics. The Sun is the largest object in our solar system. Its diameter is about 865,000 miles (1.4 million kilometers). Its gravity holds the solar system together, keeping everything from the biggest planets to the smallest bits of debris in orbit around it. Even though the Sun is the center of our solar system and essential to our survival, it’s only an average star in terms of its size. Stars up to 100 times larger have been found."
Like Audrey, Erin needs to pray and think this through.
"Lord, I thank You for blessing me with such a friend. But, Father, why do I feel so much guilt now? When she died, suddenly, all that I could think of was the ways in which I let her down. My foolish irritabilities... all the times I was selfish with her seemed to flood back on me. I know we were good friends, so close. And I know she would say that. But, Lord, why is it so hard to see the good times now? All I seem to think about now is how I let her down."
"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life." *
Oh, Lord, of course, You love her more than I ever did. You love us with your perfect, unchanging love. I see my fickleness, how my feelings sway, burn bright and then go dark, but Your love is an unchanging fire. Your love perfects us and sanctifies us. All of our failures to each other, like all of our other failures, are sealed under Jesus' blood, forgiven and perfected as You cause all things to work together to our good and Your glory.**
"Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."***
Christ Jesus is raised. We are safe. Thank you Lord.
_________________________________________
*John 3:16
** Romans 8:28
*** Romans 8:33-39
Title of My New Novel(1/3)
b” (Working Title)This is a photo of my son and his girlfriend.
My new novel.
B♭ (B-flat)
I'm releasing it. This will truly be the last time I share it.
I won't release any more after this.
It's just a rough draft from the beginning — more like notes.
If you're interested, please give it a read. :)
The setting is New York.
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
公開します。これで本当に最後の公開です。
これ以上は公開しません。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
Images & References
Taylor Swift – This Love
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Album
Ganavya – nilam
youtu.be/wRpPGvPUhOo?si=VpW20VguOjP5do7r
_________________________________
_________________________________
B♭ (B-Flat)
Further excerpt released. Just a rough draft from the beginning. Like a note. Please read if you'd like. :)
Setting: New York City.
Red, Yellow, Blue——
It was just past 7 p.m. when a light drizzle began to fall on East 52nd Street.
Anaya Patel leaned against the wall of the building next to Tot Ramen, where she was supposed to meet someone, and absently stared at the traffic light at the intersection to her right.
It was already July, yet the summer felt cooler than last year’s. She regretted stepping out in just a T-shirt.
When the light turned green, Anaya squinted, narrowing her gaze.
Kana, her old classmate, was waving and smiling as she ran toward her——
The flat ceiling of Madison Square Garden seemed to bulge slightly with the heat of the crowd, or so it appeared to Jack.
Cheers welcoming the presidential candidate clashed with shouts of outrage, rattling deep inside his ears.
Jack scanned the arena quickly before glancing back down at his iPhone. Several social media apps were open at once, and furious posts streamed across the screen.
One post in the bottom right corner—on Meta—caught his eye.
A death threat.
Presidential candidate Justin Bradford was about to take the stage with his fiancée, Eleanor Blake.
As a red spotlight—the color of the Republican Party—lit up the center of the stage, the couple stepped out.
And at that exact moment, a gunshot rang out.
It was subtle enough to be missed at first—but Jack heard it. Two shots.
As chaos erupted around him, Jack quietly closed his eyes, picturing the trajectory.
The first bullet—likely from his right, near the PA system. But that area should have been covered by agents from his own unit.
He calculated the second shot. It probably came from the left side of the stage.
It was aimed with precision, taking into account the positioning of both Justin and Eleanor.
There might have been a leak.
Then came a second report.
His colleague Ben Holloway’s voice, calm as ever.
The heart was missed, but both bullets had hit. One had grazed it and lodged in the epigastric area, just under the diaphragm.
Jack replied, equally calm.
“Justin’s Bombay blood. I confirmed it three days ago with Bellevue Hospital. They have reserves stored.”
Ben responded in a low voice, as if nothing had happened.
“Understood.”
Justin was rushed to Bellevue, the closest hospital to Madison Square Garden.
Jack called Elijah Kane directly from his smartphone.
Using WhatsApp or any other messaging app was strictly forbidden in the Secret Service.
Elijah answered before the first ring ended.
“Jack, it’s bad. We don’t have it. No Bombay blood.”
Jack was stunned.
“I confirmed it three days ago. I spoke directly to the person in charge—can't recall their name—but I saw the blood bags myself.”
After a pause, Elijah replied.
“That person died in a car accident yesterday.”
Anaya Patel waited for her husband Arjun at Tot Ramen.
With her was Mika (Sato), her best friend since college—Japanese.
Just as the server placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of her, Anaya’s phone rang.
The caller ID said Bellevue Hospital.
She answered without hesitation.
Mika looked on, concerned.
“Is this Anaya Patel? I’m Sasha Wilson from Emergency.
You may have heard—Republican presidential candidate has been shot.
We need your blood.
Stay where you are. A Secret Service vehicle is en route.”
Following Mika’s gaze, Anaya turned to the display above the counter.
A live report from MSG was playing.
Then, a man in a sleek blue suit with brown skin approached her.
“I’m Rohan Shah, Secret Service.
Please come with me to the hospital.
The car is ready.”
He reached for her hand with urgency.
Just then, Anaya’s iPhone buzzed again. An unfamiliar number.
She tapped it.
“Hello?”
“Anaya Patel?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Jack. Jack Vance. Secret Service. I’ll be there shortly.”
“How do you know where I am?”
“We’re professionals. We have our ways.”
“But the Secret Service guy is already here.”
“No—he’s not!” Jack’s voice roared through the phone.
At that instant, the man in front of her pulled a rifle from under his jacket and aimed it at her forehead.
A small gunshot rang through the restaurant.
Anaya froze.
She couldn’t speak.
As the man collapsed to the floor, another figure emerged—also pointing a gun at her.
It was her husband, Arjun.
“Freeze! FBI!”
NYPD officers in uniform and FBI agents in gray suits stormed in.
“Hands behind your head! Get down on the floor!”
The cliché movie-like commands rang out as Anaya trembled. Mika, too.
But probably no one shook more than Arjun.
Jack arrived moments later.
“Anaya Patel!”
Still trembling, Anaya answered without looking up.
“That’s me.”
Jack, drenched in sweat, pulled her upright.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
A message from Elijah arrived with a link.
Jack, now in the passenger seat with Anaya, tossed her his iPhone.
“Open it!”
She tapped it—it appeared to be a livestream.
“Good evening, New York. And Los Angeles.
My name is Zakaria Haddad.
That’s my real name.
A few years ago, I lived in Gaza.
Now I’m in a room that mimics one you know very well.”
A man with brown skin and a beard sat in what looked almost exactly like the Oval Office.
He looked at his watch, then back at the camera.
“It’s time for breaking news.
Keep your eyes on your phones.”
Just then, an alert popped up:
BREAKING: Former Democratic President Owen Reed reportedly shot at the Los Angeles Convention Center
Zakaria bowed his head slightly and chuckled.
“A sad headline, isn’t it?
But don’t be sad, America.
In Gaza, we endured 55,000 times worse.
We lost more than 55,000 loved ones.
We wept—endlessly.”
Still looking down, he clenched his fists and slammed the desk.
When he looked up, tears glistened in his eyes.
“We do not seek money.
Nor honor through death.
All we want—
are tears.
Tears equal to the ones we shed.
Only those tears can heal us.”
Placing both elbows on the desk and clasping his hands, Zakaria gently rested his chin on them. He closed his eyes, and a heavy silence filled the room. The corners of his eyes seemed to tremble ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he began to speak.
“I am just one among fifty-five thousand. Even if I disappear, the will of fifty thousand others will remain—unchanging, undying, carried forward. I am here to give voice to that will.”
Zakaria opened the desk drawer, took out a Glock 17, and slid the action, chambering a round. He raised the gun to his temple.
A Sunni Muslim, he looked straight into the camera and spoke with a hint of sarcasm.
“God bless you. America.”
Zakaria closed his eyes and pulled the trigger straight back. A dry crack echoed through the room.
The screen cut to black in an instant.
To be continued...
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Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
This is a photo of my son and his girlfriend.
:)
Taken with an iPhone 13 Pro.
Location: Naminori Parking
maps.app.goo.gl/GNeFasiUAYh9XEtj6
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Exhibition in 2025
Theme
The Nightfly
My next novel, b’.
This exhibition will reflect its imagery.
A portion of the novel will be excerpted and shared publicly.
Images
Taylor Swift – This Love [Japanese Translation]
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Organizer
Design Festa
Venue
Tokyo Big Sight
Date
Fall 2025
Contact
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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_________________________________
僕の新しい小説のタイトル
b” (仮題)(写真は、僕の息子と彼の彼女です)
Images.
Taylor Swift … This Love 【和訳】
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Album
Ganavya – nilam
youtu.be/wRpPGvPUhOo?si=VpW20VguOjP5do7r
_________________________________
_________________________________
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
さらに公開します。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
— 赤、黄色、青ーーー
イースト５２ndストリートに小雨が舞いはじめたのは、午後七時過ぎだった。
アナヤ・パテルは、待ち合わせたトットラーメンのとなりのビルの壁面にもたれ、右手に見える十字路の信号機をぼんやり眺めていた。もう７月だというのに、昨年よりも冷夏に感じ、Tシャツ一枚で出かけてきたことを後悔していた。
十字路の信号が青に変わると、アナは目を細め、凝視した。同級生のカナがこちらへ手を振りながら微笑み、駆け寄ってきていた——
マジソンスクエアガーデンの平坦な天井は、吐き出された人の熱気でいつもより膨らんでいるように、ジャックには見えた。大統領候補を歓迎する声とそれを罵倒する叫び声が錯綜し、鼓膜の奥を揺らしていた。
ジャックは、軽く場内の隅々まで目を凝らしてから、再びアイフォンに目を落とした。画面には、いくつかのSNSが同時に広がっており、それぞれが激しい書き込みによって文字が流れてゆく。
右下の、メタの書き込みに、ジャックは目を留めた。殺害予告だ。
大統領候補のジャスティン・ブラッドフォードは、フィアンセのエリノア・ブレイクとともに間も無くステージに立つ。
共和党を示す赤い光がステージ中央に差し込むと、二人は同時に現れた。
と、同時に、銃声が響いた。
一聴しただけでは気づかなかったがジャックの耳は聴き分けた。弾は二発だ。
騒然とした場内をよそに、ジャックは静かに目を閉じた。発射音から着弾までを想像した。
一発目の弾は、ジャックの右手、たぶん、PA近辺からだ。しかし、ジャックと同じ配属のシークレットサービスが張り込んでいたはずだ。もうひとつの弾丸をジャックは再び目を閉じて計算した。
弾は、たぶん、ステージ左手側からだ。ジャスティンとエリノアの二人の立ち位置を計算しているようだ。ひょっとしたら情報が漏れていたかもしれない。
ジャックの耳に第２報が入った。同僚のベン・ホロウェイの冷静な声だ。心臓ははずれたものの、2発の弾丸が打ち込まれていた。弾は心臓をかすめ、心窩部、ちょうど横隔膜の下に食い込んでいた。
ジャックも冷静に、ベンへ伝えた。
「ジャスティンはボンベイブラッドだ。三日前にベルビュー病院に確認した。予備の血液は保管されている」
ベンは、何事もなかったかのように、わかったと静かにいった。
マジソンスクエアガーデンにもっとも近いベルビュー病院に、ジャスティンを運び込む。ジャックは、病院で控えているイライジャ・ケインにスマートフォンから直接電話した。シークレットサービスではもちろんワッツアップなどのSNSはご法度だ。
ワンコールが切れる前にすぐイライジャは反応した。
「ジャック、大変だ。血液がない。ボンベイブラッドがないんだ」
ジャックは、耳を疑った。
「三日前に、俺は直接担当の、名前は忘れたな。とにかく目の前でブラッドバッグを確認したぞ」
イライジャは、数秒の沈黙の後、応えた。
「その血液の管理者は、きのう、交通事故で亡くなったんだ」
アナヤ・パテルは、夫のアルジュンをトットラーメンで待った。
学生時代からの親友、ミカ（佐藤）（日本人）も一緒だ。
店員が、アナヤの目の前にラーメンを差し出したとき、スマートフォンが鳴った。
登録してあるベルビュー病院からだった。
アナヤは、躊躇わずに出た。着信を見たミカは不安げにアナヤを見守った。
「アナヤ・パテルさんですか？ 私は救急部のサーシャウィルソンと言います。すでにご存知かもしれませんが、共和党大統領候補が撃たれました。あなたの血が必要です。すぐに病院へ来てください。シークレットサービスの車が迎えに行きます。動かないでください」
アナヤは、呆然としているミカの視線を追って、背後を振り返った。カウンターのちょうど左上に下がったディスプレイには、MSGの現在が男性レポーターによって放映されている。
アナは開いた入り口に目を移した。青い、洗練されたスーツをまとった褐色の肌の男性が、足早にアナに寄ってきた。
「シークレットサービスのロハン・シャーと言います。私と一緒に病院へ来てください。外に車を用意してあります」
彼は真剣な眼差しでアナへ伝え、手を引こうとした瞬間、アナのアイフォンが再び震えた。番号だけ浮かびあがっている。登録されていないようだ。アナは慌てて、タッチした。
「はい」
「アナヤ・パテルさん？」
「ええ、あなたは？」
「ジャック。ジャック・ヴァンス。シークレットサービスです。もうすぐそちらへ到着します」
「わたしの場所をどうやって？」
「わたしたちはプロだ。あらゆる手段を用意しています」
「もう、シークレットサービスの人が来てるわ」
ジャックの、違う！ という怒声が響いた瞬間、目の前の男性はスーツの内から小銃を引き抜き、アナの額に向けた。
店内に小さな銃声が響いた。
アナは、震えることすら忘れ、言葉を失い、放心していた。
目の前の男性がゆっくり床へ崩れると、夫のアルジュンが、やはりアナに銃を向けて現れた。
「フリーズ！FBI ！」
数人の制服を着たNYPDとグレイのスーツを纏ったFBIが叫んだ。
「全員、手を頭の後ろに回して床に伏せろ！」
映画のようなお決まりのセリフに、アナは震えていた。もちろん、ミカも。たぶん、アナの夫のアルジュンが最も震えていただろう。
遅れて、ジャックが店内に向け、叫んだ。
「アナヤ・パテル！」
アナは、見上げることなく、そのままに応えた。足がまだ震えている。
「わたしです」
額に汗を浮かべたジャックは、アナの身を起こすと、いった。
「すぐに病院へ行く」
病院にいるイライジャから、リンク付きのメッセージが届いた。
助手席に乗り込んだアナへジャックはアイフォンを放り投げると、リンク先を開け、と叫んだ。
慌てて、アナが触れると、どうやら生放送のようだった。
「こんばんわ、ニューヨーク。そしてロサンゼルス。私の名前はザカリア・ハッダード。本名だ。
数年前、ガザに住んでいた。今は、みなさんがよく目にする部屋を真似た部屋に私はいる」
褐色の、顎髭をたくわえたザカリアは、アメリカ大統領執務室とほとんど同じ部屋の椅子に座っていた。
腕時計にゆっくり目を落としてから、再び、カメラに視線を向けた。
「そろそろブレイキングニュースだ。スマートフォンの速報に注目して欲しい」
ザカリアがそういった途端、速報が流れた。
【民主党前大統領のオーウェン・リードがロサンゼルス・コンベンション・センターで銃撃された模様です】
ザカリアは、一瞬俯いて笑いを堪えながらいった。
「悲しい速報じゃないか。アメリカのみなさん。でもどうか悲しまないで欲しい。私が経験したガザではこの55,000倍だ。55,000人以上の大切な人を失い、そして、涙を流した」
ザカリアは、再び俯いたまま、両手を固く握りしめ、力強く机を叩きつけた。
顔を上げたザカリアの目にはうっすらと涙が溢れていた。
「私たちは、お金を求めない。また、死による名誉も求めない。私たちが欲しいのは、55,000人が流した涙と同じだけの涙だ。流された涙と同じだけの涙だけが、私たちを癒す」
両肘を机につき、両手を組むと、ザカリアは静かに顎を乗せた。目を閉じて、しばらく沈黙が続いた。目尻が細かく震えているようだった。そのままゆっくり口を開いた。
「55,000人のうちの私はひとりに過ぎない。私が消えても５万人もの意思は決して消えず、引き継がれる。私は、私たちの意思をここに表明するためにいる」
ザカリアは、机の引き出しから、グロック１７を取り出すと、スライドしてチャンバーに弾を流した。そして、自分のこめかみに向けた。
スンニ派である彼は、まっすぐにカメラを見つめ、皮肉混じりにいった。
「神のご加護を。アメリカ」
ザカリアは、目を閉じると、トリガーを真っ直ぐに引いた。乾いた音が部屋に響いた。映像は、瞬時に黒へ切り替わった。
つづく。
_________________________________
_________________________________
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
写真は、僕の息子と彼の彼女です。
:)
アイフォン１３プロで撮影。
撮影場所。
波乗りパーキング。
maps.app.goo.gl/GNeFasiUAYh9XEtj6
_________________________________
_________________________________
２０２5年の展示
テーマ
The Nightfly
僕の次の小説。b’
そのイメージになります。
小説の一部分を抜粋し、公開します。
Images.
Taylor Swift … This Love 【和訳】
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
主催
デザインフェスタ
場所
東京ビッグサイト
日程
2025年 秋。
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
_________________________________
_________________________________
"Mi piaci se rimani come assente in silenzio,
e mi ascolti lontana né la voce ti sfiora.
E sembra che i tuoi occhi siano volati via,
e sembra che la bocca te l'abbia chiusa un bacio.[...]"
Pablo Neruda
Beautiful and unchanging
"I like you calm, as if you were absent,
and you hear me far-off, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyelids have taken to flying:
it seems that a kiss has sealed up your mouth.[...]"
Pablo Neruda
Poem.
A steep, cobbled street.
Elegant half-timbered, Tudor houses
with overhanging upper storeys jostle
up and down this remarkable thoroughfare.
Medieval inns, hotels and boarding houses
crowd together from end to end.
A little imagination can remove the modern car
and fill this sharp gradient with locals,
merchants, visitors, smugglers, pilgrims and travellers.
For a thousand years wood-fired chimneys have
belched their smoke above and around the
oak timbers and pale wattle and daub panelled walls,
leaving their sooty signature.
With the sky grey and the atmosphere obscured,
this ancient road seems little changed from the 15th. century.
Its unchanging ambience seems to lock us in a time warp,
a reliable time-machine that
earns world-wide affection.
"b" (Working Title)
When I write a novel, I keep six novels by my side. :)(2/3)
My new novel.
B♭ (B-flat)
I'm releasing it. This will truly be the last time I share it.
I won't release any more after this.
It's just a rough draft from the beginning — more like notes.
If you're interested, please give it a read. :)
The setting is New York.
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
公開します。これで本当に最後の公開です。
これ以上は公開しません。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
Images & References
Taylor Swift – This Love
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Album
Ganavya – nilam
youtu.be/wRpPGvPUhOo?si=VpW20VguOjP5do7r
_________________________________
_________________________________
B♭ (B-Flat)
Further excerpt released. Just a rough draft from the beginning. Like a note. Please read if you'd like. :)
Setting: New York City.
Red, Yellow, Blue——
It was just past 7 p.m. when a light drizzle began to fall on East 52nd Street.
Anaya Patel leaned against the wall of the building next to Tot Ramen, where she was supposed to meet someone, and absently stared at the traffic light at the intersection to her right.
It was already July, yet the summer felt cooler than last year’s. She regretted stepping out in just a T-shirt.
When the light turned green, Anaya squinted, narrowing her gaze.
Kana, her old classmate, was waving and smiling as she ran toward her——
The flat ceiling of Madison Square Garden seemed to bulge slightly with the heat of the crowd, or so it appeared to Jack.
Cheers welcoming the presidential candidate clashed with shouts of outrage, rattling deep inside his ears.
Jack scanned the arena quickly before glancing back down at his iPhone. Several social media apps were open at once, and furious posts streamed across the screen.
One post in the bottom right corner—on Meta—caught his eye.
A death threat.
Presidential candidate Justin Bradford was about to take the stage with his fiancée, Eleanor Blake.
As a red spotlight—the color of the Republican Party—lit up the center of the stage, the couple stepped out.
And at that exact moment, a gunshot rang out.
It was subtle enough to be missed at first—but Jack heard it. Two shots.
As chaos erupted around him, Jack quietly closed his eyes, picturing the trajectory.
The first bullet—likely from his right, near the PA system. But that area should have been covered by agents from his own unit.
He calculated the second shot. It probably came from the left side of the stage.
It was aimed with precision, taking into account the positioning of both Justin and Eleanor.
There might have been a leak.
Then came a second report.
His colleague Ben Holloway’s voice, calm as ever.
The heart was missed, but both bullets had hit. One had grazed it and lodged in the epigastric area, just under the diaphragm.
Jack replied, equally calm.
“Justin’s Bombay blood. I confirmed it three days ago with Bellevue Hospital. They have reserves stored.”
Ben responded in a low voice, as if nothing had happened.
“Understood.”
Justin was rushed to Bellevue, the closest hospital to Madison Square Garden.
Jack called Elijah Kane directly from his smartphone.
Using WhatsApp or any other messaging app was strictly forbidden in the Secret Service.
Elijah answered before the first ring ended.
“Jack, it’s bad. We don’t have it. No Bombay blood.”
Jack was stunned.
“I confirmed it three days ago. I spoke directly to the person in charge—can't recall their name—but I saw the blood bags myself.”
After a pause, Elijah replied.
“That person died in a car accident yesterday.”
Anaya Patel waited for her husband Arjun at Tot Ramen.
With her was Mika (Sato), her best friend since college—Japanese.
Just as the server placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of her, Anaya’s phone rang.
The caller ID said Bellevue Hospital.
She answered without hesitation.
Mika looked on, concerned.
“Is this Anaya Patel? I’m Sasha Wilson from Emergency.
You may have heard—Republican presidential candidate has been shot.
We need your blood.
Stay where you are. A Secret Service vehicle is en route.”
Following Mika’s gaze, Anaya turned to the display above the counter.
A live report from MSG was playing.
Then, a man in a sleek blue suit with brown skin approached her.
“I’m Rohan Shah, Secret Service.
Please come with me to the hospital.
The car is ready.”
He reached for her hand with urgency.
Just then, Anaya’s iPhone buzzed again. An unfamiliar number.
She tapped it.
“Hello?”
“Anaya Patel?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Jack. Jack Vance. Secret Service. I’ll be there shortly.”
“How do you know where I am?”
“We’re professionals. We have our ways.”
“But the Secret Service guy is already here.”
“No—he’s not!” Jack’s voice roared through the phone.
At that instant, the man in front of her pulled a rifle from under his jacket and aimed it at her forehead.
A small gunshot rang through the restaurant.
Anaya froze.
She couldn’t speak.
As the man collapsed to the floor, another figure emerged—also pointing a gun at her.
It was her husband, Arjun.
“Freeze! FBI!”
NYPD officers in uniform and FBI agents in gray suits stormed in.
“Hands behind your head! Get down on the floor!”
The cliché movie-like commands rang out as Anaya trembled. Mika, too.
But probably no one shook more than Arjun.
Jack arrived moments later.
“Anaya Patel!”
Still trembling, Anaya answered without looking up.
“That’s me.”
Jack, drenched in sweat, pulled her upright.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
A message from Elijah arrived with a link.
Jack, now in the passenger seat with Anaya, tossed her his iPhone.
“Open it!”
She tapped it—it appeared to be a livestream.
“Good evening, New York. And Los Angeles.
My name is Zakaria Haddad.
That’s my real name.
A few years ago, I lived in Gaza.
Now I’m in a room that mimics one you know very well.”
A man with brown skin and a beard sat in what looked almost exactly like the Oval Office.
He looked at his watch, then back at the camera.
“It’s time for breaking news.
Keep your eyes on your phones.”
Just then, an alert popped up:
BREAKING: Former Democratic President Owen Reed reportedly shot at the Los Angeles Convention Center
Zakaria bowed his head slightly and chuckled.
“A sad headline, isn’t it?
But don’t be sad, America.
In Gaza, we endured 55,000 times worse.
We lost more than 55,000 loved ones.
We wept—endlessly.”
Still looking down, he clenched his fists and slammed the desk.
When he looked up, tears glistened in his eyes.
“We do not seek money.
Nor honor through death.
All we want—
are tears.
Tears equal to the ones we shed.
Only those tears can heal us.”
Placing both elbows on the desk and clasping his hands, Zakaria gently rested his chin on them. He closed his eyes, and a heavy silence filled the room. The corners of his eyes seemed to tremble ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he began to speak.
“I am just one among fifty-five thousand. Even if I disappear, the will of fifty thousand others will remain—unchanging, undying, carried forward. I am here to give voice to that will.”
Zakaria opened the desk drawer, took out a Glock 17, and slid the action, chambering a round. He raised the gun to his temple.
A Sunni Muslim, he looked straight into the camera and spoke with a hint of sarcasm.
“God bless you. America.”
Zakaria closed his eyes and pulled the trigger straight back. A dry crack echoed through the room.
The screen cut to black in an instant.
To be continued...
_________________________________
_________________________________
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
This is a photo of my son and his girlfriend.
:)
Taken with an iPhone 13 Pro.
Location: Naminori Parking
maps.app.goo.gl/GNeFasiUAYh9XEtj6
_________________________________
_________________________________
Exhibition in 2025
Theme
The Nightfly
My next novel, b’.
This exhibition will reflect its imagery.
A portion of the novel will be excerpted and shared publicly.
Images
Taylor Swift – This Love [Japanese Translation]
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Organizer
Design Festa
Venue
Tokyo Big Sight
Date
Fall 2025
Contact
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
_________________________________
_________________________________
僕の新しい小説のタイトル(2/3)
b” (仮題) 僕は小説を書く時、手元に六冊の小説を置きます。:)
Images.
Taylor Swift … This Love 【和訳】
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Album
Ganavya – nilam
youtu.be/wRpPGvPUhOo?si=VpW20VguOjP5do7r
_________________________________
_________________________________
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
さらに公開します。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
— 赤、黄色、青ーーー
イースト５２ndストリートに小雨が舞いはじめたのは、午後七時過ぎだった。
アナヤ・パテルは、待ち合わせたトットラーメンのとなりのビルの壁面にもたれ、右手に見える十字路の信号機をぼんやり眺めていた。もう７月だというのに、昨年よりも冷夏に感じ、Tシャツ一枚で出かけてきたことを後悔していた。
十字路の信号が青に変わると、アナは目を細め、凝視した。同級生のカナがこちらへ手を振りながら微笑み、駆け寄ってきていた——
マジソンスクエアガーデンの平坦な天井は、吐き出された人の熱気でいつもより膨らんでいるように、ジャックには見えた。大統領候補を歓迎する声とそれを罵倒する叫び声が錯綜し、鼓膜の奥を揺らしていた。
ジャックは、軽く場内の隅々まで目を凝らしてから、再びアイフォンに目を落とした。画面には、いくつかのSNSが同時に広がっており、それぞれが激しい書き込みによって文字が流れてゆく。
右下の、メタの書き込みに、ジャックは目を留めた。殺害予告だ。
大統領候補のジャスティン・ブラッドフォードは、フィアンセのエリノア・ブレイクとともに間も無くステージに立つ。
共和党を示す赤い光がステージ中央に差し込むと、二人は同時に現れた。
と、同時に、銃声が響いた。
一聴しただけでは気づかなかったがジャックの耳は聴き分けた。弾は二発だ。
騒然とした場内をよそに、ジャックは静かに目を閉じた。発射音から着弾までを想像した。
一発目の弾は、ジャックの右手、たぶん、PA近辺からだ。しかし、ジャックと同じ配属のシークレットサービスが張り込んでいたはずだ。もうひとつの弾丸をジャックは再び目を閉じて計算した。
弾は、たぶん、ステージ左手側からだ。ジャスティンとエリノアの二人の立ち位置を計算しているようだ。ひょっとしたら情報が漏れていたかもしれない。
ジャックの耳に第２報が入った。同僚のベン・ホロウェイの冷静な声だ。心臓ははずれたものの、2発の弾丸が打ち込まれていた。弾は心臓をかすめ、心窩部、ちょうど横隔膜の下に食い込んでいた。
ジャックも冷静に、ベンへ伝えた。
「ジャスティンはボンベイブラッドだ。三日前にベルビュー病院に確認した。予備の血液は保管されている」
ベンは、何事もなかったかのように、わかったと静かにいった。
マジソンスクエアガーデンにもっとも近いベルビュー病院に、ジャスティンを運び込む。ジャックは、病院で控えているイライジャ・ケインにスマートフォンから直接電話した。シークレットサービスではもちろんワッツアップなどのSNSはご法度だ。
ワンコールが切れる前にすぐイライジャは反応した。
「ジャック、大変だ。血液がない。ボンベイブラッドがないんだ」
ジャックは、耳を疑った。
「三日前に、俺は直接担当の、名前は忘れたな。とにかく目の前でブラッドバッグを確認したぞ」
イライジャは、数秒の沈黙の後、応えた。
「その血液の管理者は、きのう、交通事故で亡くなったんだ」
アナヤ・パテルは、夫のアルジュンをトットラーメンで待った。
学生時代からの親友、ミカ（佐藤）（日本人）も一緒だ。
店員が、アナヤの目の前にラーメンを差し出したとき、スマートフォンが鳴った。
登録してあるベルビュー病院からだった。
アナヤは、躊躇わずに出た。着信を見たミカは不安げにアナヤを見守った。
「アナヤ・パテルさんですか？ 私は救急部のサーシャウィルソンと言います。すでにご存知かもしれませんが、共和党大統領候補が撃たれました。あなたの血が必要です。すぐに病院へ来てください。シークレットサービスの車が迎えに行きます。動かないでください」
アナヤは、呆然としているミカの視線を追って、背後を振り返った。カウンターのちょうど左上に下がったディスプレイには、MSGの現在が男性レポーターによって放映されている。
アナは開いた入り口に目を移した。青い、洗練されたスーツをまとった褐色の肌の男性が、足早にアナに寄ってきた。
「シークレットサービスのロハン・シャーと言います。私と一緒に病院へ来てください。外に車を用意してあります」
彼は真剣な眼差しでアナへ伝え、手を引こうとした瞬間、アナのアイフォンが再び震えた。番号だけ浮かびあがっている。登録されていないようだ。アナは慌てて、タッチした。
「はい」
「アナヤ・パテルさん？」
「ええ、あなたは？」
「ジャック。ジャック・ヴァンス。シークレットサービスです。もうすぐそちらへ到着します」
「わたしの場所をどうやって？」
「わたしたちはプロだ。あらゆる手段を用意しています」
「もう、シークレットサービスの人が来てるわ」
ジャックの、違う！ という怒声が響いた瞬間、目の前の男性はスーツの内から小銃を引き抜き、アナの額に向けた。
店内に小さな銃声が響いた。
アナは、震えることすら忘れ、言葉を失い、放心していた。
目の前の男性がゆっくり床へ崩れると、夫のアルジュンが、やはりアナに銃を向けて現れた。
「フリーズ！FBI ！」
数人の制服を着たNYPDとグレイのスーツを纏ったFBIが叫んだ。
「全員、手を頭の後ろに回して床に伏せろ！」
映画のようなお決まりのセリフに、アナは震えていた。もちろん、ミカも。たぶん、アナの夫のアルジュンが最も震えていただろう。
遅れて、ジャックが店内に向け、叫んだ。
「アナヤ・パテル！」
アナは、見上げることなく、そのままに応えた。足がまだ震えている。
「わたしです」
額に汗を浮かべたジャックは、アナの身を起こすと、いった。
「すぐに病院へ行く」
病院にいるイライジャから、リンク付きのメッセージが届いた。
助手席に乗り込んだアナへジャックはアイフォンを放り投げると、リンク先を開け、と叫んだ。
慌てて、アナが触れると、どうやら生放送のようだった。
「こんばんわ、ニューヨーク。そしてロサンゼルス。私の名前はザカリア・ハッダード。本名だ。
数年前、ガザに住んでいた。今は、みなさんがよく目にする部屋を真似た部屋に私はいる」
褐色の、顎髭をたくわえたザカリアは、アメリカ大統領執務室とほとんど同じ部屋の椅子に座っていた。
腕時計にゆっくり目を落としてから、再び、カメラに視線を向けた。
「そろそろブレイキングニュースだ。スマートフォンの速報に注目して欲しい」
ザカリアがそういった途端、速報が流れた。
【民主党前大統領のオーウェン・リードがロサンゼルス・コンベンション・センターで銃撃された模様です】
ザカリアは、一瞬俯いて笑いを堪えながらいった。
「悲しい速報じゃないか。アメリカのみなさん。でもどうか悲しまないで欲しい。私が経験したガザではこの55,000倍だ。55,000人以上の大切な人を失い、そして、涙を流した」
ザカリアは、再び俯いたまま、両手を固く握りしめ、力強く机を叩きつけた。
顔を上げたザカリアの目にはうっすらと涙が溢れていた。
「私たちは、お金を求めない。また、死による名誉も求めない。私たちが欲しいのは、55,000人が流した涙と同じだけの涙だ。流された涙と同じだけの涙だけが、私たちを癒す」
両肘を机につき、両手を組むと、ザカリアは静かに顎を乗せた。目を閉じて、しばらく沈黙が続いた。目尻が細かく震えているようだった。そのままゆっくり口を開いた。
「55,000人のうちの私はひとりに過ぎない。私が消えても５万人もの意思は決して消えず、引き継がれる。私は、私たちの意思をここに表明するためにいる」
ザカリアは、机の引き出しから、グロック１７を取り出すと、スライドしてチャンバーに弾を流した。そして、自分のこめかみに向けた。
スンニ派である彼は、まっすぐにカメラを見つめ、皮肉混じりにいった。
「神のご加護を。アメリカ」
ザカリアは、目を閉じると、トリガーを真っ直ぐに引いた。乾いた音が部屋に響いた。映像は、瞬時に黒へ切り替わった。
つづく。
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メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
写真は、僕の息子と彼の彼女です。
:)
アイフォン１３プロで撮影。
撮影場所。
波乗りパーキング。
maps.app.goo.gl/GNeFasiUAYh9XEtj6
_________________________________
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２０２5年の展示
テーマ
The Nightfly
僕の次の小説。b’
そのイメージになります。
小説の一部分を抜粋し、公開します。
Images.
Taylor Swift … This Love 【和訳】
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
主催
デザインフェスタ
場所
東京ビッグサイト
日程
2025年 秋。
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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We recently had 3 or 4 days where the weather was misty, gloomy and overcast, and unchanging day-to-day. Here is the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, Burnley, Lancashire, UK in the gloom
Diwali (also spelled Devali in certain regions) or Deepavali, popularly known as the "festival of lights", is an important five-day festival in Hinduism, Jainism, and Sikhism, occurring between mid-October and mid-November. For Hindus, Diwali is the most important festival of the year and is celebrated in families by performing traditional activities together in their homes. Deepavali is an official holiday in India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Mauritius, Guyana, Trinidad & Tobago, Suriname, Malaysia, Singapore, and Fiji.
The name Diwali is itself a contraction of the word "Deepavali" (Sanskrit: दीपावली Dīpāvalī), which translates into "row of lamps". Diwali involves the lighting of small clay lamps (diyas, or dīpa in Sanskrit: दीप) filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. During Diwali, all the celebrants wear new clothes and share sweets and snacks with family members and friends. Most Indian business communities begin the financial year on the first day of Diwali.
Diwali commemorates the return of Lord Rama along with Sita and Lakshman from his fourteen-year-long exile and vanquishing the demon-king Ravana. In joyous celebration of the return of their king, the people of Ayodhya, the Capital of Rama, illuminated the kingdom with earthen diyas (oil lamps) and burst crackers.
In Jainism, Diwali marks the attainment of moksha or nirvana by Mahavira in 527 BC. In Sikhism, Deepavali commemorates the return of Guru Har Gobind Ji to Amritsar after freeing 52 Hindu kings imprisoned in Fort Gwalior by defeating Emperor Jahangir; the people lit candles and diyas to celebrate his return. This is the reason Sikhs also refer to Deepavali as Bandi Chhorh Divas, "the day of release of detainees". Deepavali is widely celebrated in both India and Nepal.
The first day of the festival Naraka Chaturdasi marks the vanquishing of the demon Naraka by Lord Krishna and his wife Satyabhama. Amavasya, the second day of Deepawali, marks the worship of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth in her most benevolent mood, fulfilling the wishes of her devotees. Amavasya also tells the story of Lord Vishnu, who in his dwarf incarnation vanquished the tyrant Bali, and banished him to hell. Bali was allowed to return to earth once a year, to light millions of lamps to dispel the darkness and ignorance, and spread the radiance of love and wisdom. It is on the third day of Deepawali — Kartika Shudda Padyami - that Bali steps out of hell and rules the earth according to the boon given by Lord Vishnu. The fourth day is referred to as Yama Dvitiya (also called Bhai Dooj) and on this day sisters invite
In each legend, myth and story of Deepawali lies the significance of the victory of good over evil; and it is with each Deepawali and the lights that illuminate our homes and hearts, that this simple truth finds new reason and hope. From darkness unto light — the light that empowers us to commit ourselves to good deeds, that which brings us closer to divinity. During Diwali, lights illuminate every corner of India and the scent of incense sticks hangs in the air, mingled with the sounds of fire-crackers, joy, togetherness and hope. Diwali is celebrated around the globe. Outside India, it is more than a Hindu festival, it's a celebration of South-Asian identities.
While Deepavali is popularly known as the "festival of lights", the most significant spiritual meaning is "the awareness of the inner light". Central to Hindu philosophy is the assertion that there is something beyond the physical body and mind which is pure, infinite, and eternal, called the Atman. The celebration of Deepavali as the "victory of good over evil", refers to the light of higher knowledge dispelling all ignorance, the ignorance that masks one's true nature, not as the body, but as the unchanging, infinite, immanent and transcendent reality. With this awakening comes compassion and the awareness of the oneness of all things (higher knowledge). This brings Ananda (joy or peace). Just as we celebrate the birth of our physical being, Deepavali is the celebration of this Inner Light.
While the story behind Deepavali and the manner of celebration varies from region to region (festive fireworks, worship, lights, sharing of sweets), the essence is the same – to rejoice in the Inner Light (Atman) or the underlying Reality of all things (Brahman).
Source : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali
The Unchanging World
Solo Show
19 January 2018 - 17 February 2018
Philobiblon Gallery
Rome - Italy
info@philobiblon.org
Photo Alessandro Sgarito
This photo is exclusively managed by Caters News. To license please contact laurenfruen@catersnews.com
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/God-Himself-the-unique-ii...
Introduction
Almighty God says, "God’s authority is everywhere, at every hour, at every instant. If heaven and earth were to pass away, His authority would never pass away, for He is God Himself, He possesses the unique authority, and His authority is not restricted or limited by people, events, or things, by space or by geography. At all times God wields His authority, shows His might, continues His management work as always; at all times He rules all things, provides for all things, orchestrates all things, just as He always did. No one can change this. It is fact; it has been the unchanging truth since time immemorial!"
Eastern Lightning, The Church of Almighty God was created because of the appearance and work of Almighty God, the second coming of the Lord Jesus, Christ of the last days. It is made up of all those who accept Almighty God's work in the last days and are conquered and saved by His words. It was entirely founded by Almighty God personally and is led by Him as the Shepherd. It was definitely not created by a person. Christ is the truth, the way, and the life. God's sheep hear God's voice. As long as you read the words of Almighty God, you will see God has appeared.
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Have the U.S. mainstream media sunk this low? What is the purpose for the Wall Street Journal giving such a full and extensive coverage on Meng Wanzhou's wardrobe? It's so sexist!!
There is no question Ms. Meng is rich. Rich people wear name brand clothing and live luxuriously. It's not unusual that she has nice homes with lots of amenities.
I don't remember reading any news article about Abigail Johnson of Fidelity Investments, for example, detailing her wardrobe or how luxurious her homes are.
While the WSJ article gives every aspect of Ms Meng's wardrobe, there's nothing on why Canada values the two Michaels' arrest so much. After all, when they were arrested in China, there were 300,000 Canadians living in China and Hong Kong and about 200 Canadians were thought to be in custody in China. So why did the U.S. and Canada pay so much attention to these two Michaels? Could it be because they were spies for the Canadian government?
albertapolitics.ca/2020/12/why-did-chinas-government-pluc...
Why did China’s government pluck the Two Michaels from among 300,000 Canadians in China?
This WSJ article fails to mention the omissions and misrepresentations made by the U.S. prosecutor. The fact was HSBC was fully aware of the relationship between Huawei and Skycom, the business entity that sold HP computers to Iran. The prosecutor also omitted a crucial slide in Ms. Meng's Powerpoint presentation.
ca.style.yahoo.com/meng-wanzhous-lawyers-claim-extraditio...
Meng Wanzhou's lawyers claim extradition case riddled with misrepresentations
www.wsj.com/articles/huawei-china-meng-kovrig-spavor-pris...
Inside the Secret Prisoner Swap That Splintered the U.S. and China
Detention of a Chinese executive to stand trial in the U.S. provoked a standoff between global rivals and opened an acrimonious new era
4:30 a.m., Sept. 25, 2021, Tianjin, China
A pair of prison vans approached the terminal at Tianjin Binhai International Airport carrying two Canadians, blindfolded and disoriented from 1,019 days in captivity.
On the moonlit tarmac, an unmarked U.S. Gulfstream jet waited to take them home. Nearby, the Canadian ambassador paced the carpeted lounge.
Fifteen time zones away, an Air China Boeing 777 stood ready at Vancouver International Airport. Armed officers of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police kept watch in the terminal. A Chinese executive in Manolo Blahnik heels strode past them, carrying a bag with a Carolina Herrera dress shaded the same vibrant red as China’s flag and trailed by an entourage of lawyers, aides and diplomats who called her Madam Meng. She, too, was headed home.
One of the most significant prisoner swaps in recent diplomatic history was under way, after a top-secret negotiation that was three years in the making.
At the Tianjin airport, a Chinese official was on the phone to confirm the woman’s passage through the Vancouver terminal. He then cleared the Canadian prisoners. The Canadian ambassador fumbled for their passports in a yellow envelope and ushered the men to an immigration checkpoint.
A Chinese guard stamped the passports and directed them to the runway.
When Meng Wanzhou was arrested in Canada in 2018, she was chief financial officer of China’s Huawei Technologies Co., a telecommunications giant founded by her father that was poised to win the race to build 5G networks in most of the world’s largest economies. Canadian authorities took Ms. Meng into custody in Vancouver, British Columbia, on behalf of the U.S., which had filed bank-fraud charges against her.
The detention of the 50-year-old celebrity businesswoman, and U.S. efforts to extradite her for trial in New York, transformed her into a national martyr in China and a symbol of America’s growing hostility to its nearest rival.
Days later, the two Canadians were seized in retaliation for Ms. Meng’s arrest. Michael Kovrig, 50, was on leave from Canada’s Foreign Ministry to work for the International Crisis Group in Hong Kong. Michael Spavor, 46, ran a business that helped students, athletes and academics visit North Korea. During their incarceration and harsh treatment, the two men were sympathetically shorthanded in news reports and by Western leaders as “the two Michaels.” Both men denied any wrongdoing.
The arrests marked a turning point in the growing power competition between the U.S. and China, helping shift it from mutual wariness to full-blown animosity. Unlike last century’s Cold War between the U.S. and Soviet Union, the prisoner skirmish reflected a U.S.-China battle for control of the international flow of data and, ultimately, primacy in global commerce.
Negotiations to free the prisoners strained relations between China, U.S. and Canada. Each nation navigated its own security concerns and domestic political pressures. The U.S. pressed Chinese leader Xi Jinping to release the two Canadians and cited their arrest as evidence of Beijing’s disregard for the international rules-based order. Mr. Xi saw Ms. Meng’s detention as another underhanded attempt by the U.S. to contain his country’s advance.
Mr. Xi penned more than 100 notes about her case, and he discussed the Michaels with two U.S. presidents. Mr. Xi refused to free them until Ms. Meng was released. Canada was caught in the middle.
Dominic Barton, the Canadian ambassador, spent hundreds of hours at a whiteboard in an embassy safe room charting proposals to get his countrymen released and visiting them in prison. He delivered coded messages in rapid-fire English he knew eavesdropping guards would struggle to understand. Until the final moments, Canada worried that a news leak or a stray remark from a U.S. senator would scuttle the exchange.
This account is based on interviews with current and former U.S., Canadian and Chinese officials, lawyers and prosecutors, former Huawei officials, people familiar with Ms. Meng’s legal team and her staff, as well as current and former diplomats of the three countries. It draws from court documents, real-estate and corporate records, classified diplomatic cables, unpublished photographs and notes of government officials involved in the negotiations.
A spokesman for the Chinese consulate in New York declined to answer questions. A Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman has said that Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor were detained and tried in accordance with Chinese law, and their case was unrelated to Ms. Meng’s arrest.
Meng Wanzhou planned to spend only a few hours in Vancouver when she touched down on Dec. 1, 2018. It was one of four cities where she kept a home.
The Huawei CFO checked seven suitcases, packed with presentation material for meetings in four countries, including Mexico. The country’s newly inaugurated president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, was open to Huawei building 5G networks in his country, brushing off U.S. security concerns.
Ms. Meng also booked a stop in Buenos Aires, where she would join her father, Ren Zhengfei, Huawei’s billionaire founder. Mr. Ren had once announced that none of his three children was visionary enough to succeed him. Ms. Meng, who crisscrossed the world representing her father’s empire, seemed determined to prove him wrong.
Around the time Ms. Meng walked into Hong Kong’s international airport, word of her itinerary passed over a secure line to the Palacio Duhau hotel, site of the Group of 20 summit in Buenos Aires. A White House lawyer took the call in a soundproof tent set up in a suite. Afterward, the lawyer woke up John Bolton: Ms. Meng was en route.
Mr. Bolton, then-national security adviser in the Trump administration, knew Ms. Meng’s arrest could disrupt the summit’s marquee event that evening, a dinner between President Donald Trump and Chinese leader Xi Jinping. Yet Mr. Bolton, a longtime China hawk, felt it was worth the risk. The president didn’t yet know about the plan. White House staffers later debated whether Mr. Bolton had told Mr. Trump or if it hadn’t fully registered with the president.
While Ms. Meng was on her flight to Vancouver, Federal Bureau of Investigation agents passed along details of her travel outfit: a black Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie, dark sweatpants, her hair just past the shoulders.
Federal prosecutors had a sealed indictment against Ms. Meng and Huawei for bank fraud, alleging she had helped disguise the company’s business dealings in Iran. The evidence was in a PowerPoint presentation Ms. Meng showed an executive of HSBC Holdings PLC in the back room of a Hong Kong restaurant in 2013. Huawei, she claimed in her presentation, wasn’t violating U.S. sanctions on Iran.
The charge was narrow, but it would serve a broader national security objective—to help Washington convince U.S. allies Huawei couldn’t be trusted.
In a briefing room at the Vancouver airport, six Canadian police officers and border guards studied photos of Ms. Meng. “Seize any electronic devices on MENG to preserve evidence, as there will be a request from FBI,” a Canadian constable scrawled in a spiral notebook.
Ms. Meng’s extradition request had arrived from Washington on a password-protected file that Canadian authorities needed more than a day to unlock. The delay meant Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, also attending the G-20 summit in Buenos Aires, was told of the request only around the time officers took positions at the Vancouver airport’s Gate 65 jet bridge.
At 11:18 a.m., Cathay Pacific Flight 838 rolled to a stop at the terminal gate.
Two border guards escorted Ms. Meng to a counter where another guard combed through her luggage. Officers asked questions, among them: Did Huawei ever sell products in Iran? They collected her electronics and demanded her passwords. One by one, they slid her devices into security bags, as the U.S. had requested: a red-cased Huawei phone, a black-and-pink 256-gigabyte thumb drive, a pink-framed MacBook and an iPad with a sticker of Winnie-the-Pooh, a character sometimes used on social media to mock Mr. Xi, China’s leader.
“You have committed fraud, we’re arresting you, and then you will be sent back to the United States,” a police officer told Ms. Meng.
“Me?” she said. “You’re saying I committed fraud in the United States?”
“I don’t have details,” another officer replied. “They have a fraud charge against you regarding your company, uh, Huawei?”
An officer added, apologetically, “We’re only assisting the United States.”
At the police station, Ms. Meng was fingerprinted, and allowed a phone call to the only Chinese-speaking lawyer Huawei could find on short notice, a patent attorney. As the attorney dashed to the station, Ms. Meng began to gasp for air, worrying officers who sped her to a hospital.
Messrs. Trump and Xi were dining on Argentine sirloin, accompanied by a 2014 Malbec. The goal of the dinner was to reach a truce in an escalating U.S.-China trade war. Neither man appeared aware of Ms. Meng’s arrest. Mr. Bolton, seated near Mr. Trump, didn’t mention it.
Mr. Xi learned shortly after, according to Chinese government officials, and it struck him as deceptive and an insult. He had just agreed to buy more U.S. food and energy.
Mr. Trump questioned Mr. Bolton days later at a White House Christmas dinner, according to people familiar with the conversation. “Why did you arrest Meng?” the president said. “Don’t you know she’s the Ivanka Trump of China?”
Chinese Foreign Ministry officials briefed Mr. Xi on the arrest when he returned to Beijing on Dec. 6. Ms. Meng, ranked China’s eighth most powerful businesswoman by Forbes magazine, was in custody and under severe distress.
China’s Ministry of Public Security, which had a list of Canadian names, proposed two for him to select. Canada’s ambassador was summoned to a Foreign Ministry office in Beijing and warned China would retaliate.
Two days later, a call came to the Canadian embassy from a man stopped while trying to board a 2 p.m. flight to South Korea from a city in China’s northeast.
“I’m being questioned,” Michael Spavor said.
That night, the embassy got another call, this one about Michael Kovrig. He had been walking in Beijing when he was bundled into a vehicle.
For hours, embassy officials waited to hear from the two men, hoping authorities would release them. Then came the whir of the office fax machine, signaling trouble. Fax was the preferred channel of China’s Foreign Ministry. The machine spat out back-to-back missives announcing the detention of two Canadian citizens suspected of threatening national security.
Canada’s ambassador met with officials in Beijing. They asked for Ms. Meng’s release. “He who ties the knot must untie it,” one of them said.
A month later, Mr. Trudeau cemented his government’s position at a snow-drenched cabinet retreat in Quebec. Arrests of innocent Canadian citizens wouldn’t force Ms. Meng’s release.
“Canada cannot be bullied,” he told his cabinet members.
The prime minister, a liberal leader who in public appearances sometimes appeared boyish, had a harder side. Just before he assumed office, Islamic State militants had abducted two elderly Canadians. Mr. Trudeau later refused to pay a ransom, and they were decapitated.
It was his worst moment as prime minister—and the right decision, Mr. Trudeau said at the cabinet retreat.
When Canada’s ambassador to China said in public remarks that Ms. Meng had a strong case to fight her extradition, Mr. Trudeau fired him.
To free Ms. Meng, Huawei assembled a team of more than a dozen lawyers, including some of the corporate world’s highest-paid. They all agreed she was unfairly trapped in the rivalry between Washington and Beijing.
One of Huawei’s recruits—trial lawyer Reid Weingarten, whose clients had included Goldman Sachs Group Inc.’s Lloyd Blankfein and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein—carried a report into a meeting early in 2019 with Justice Department officials. It detailed reasons the defense team believed Ms. Meng would easily win her case.
Elevating a six-year-old PowerPoint presentation to a charge of bank fraud was an overreach the Justice Department would regret, according to Ms. Meng’s lawyers. Some doubted prosecutors had the appetite to go to trial.
Instead, they found little hope for a swift resolution. Federal prosecutors in the case were confident. If Ms. Meng wanted to plead guilty, they were ready to talk. Otherwise, they would see her in court.
The White House had a lot riding on the case. Huawei was on the other side of a contest for control of 5G, the wireless network slated to ferry data to billions of devices worldwide. It was a fight the U.S. didn’t want to lose.
Huawei was offering to deliver its 5G equipment—antennas, base stations and routers—more quickly and less expensively than its Western competitors. The company, a relative newcomer compared with century-old telecom rivals Nokia Corp. and Ericsson AB, had become a world leader.
U.S. national security officials were convinced of a danger other nations thought could be managed—that Huawei was assembling the architecture China could use to conduct worldwide surveillance.
In 2009, U.S. cyberspies had infiltrated the company’s networks. FBI analysts, worried Beijing could use those same networks to spy, alerted their bosses. Defense Department officials urged U.S. telecom companies to steer clear of Huawei. A 2012 congressional investigation concluded China could use Huawei equipment for espionage but didn’t find clear evidence it had.
By the time of the Trump administration, Huawei had built a seemingly insurmountable lead over its rivals. An analysis that circulated among intelligence officials warned Huawei would control 80% of the global market for 5G equipment. National security officials feared that would hand China a surveillance tool with the potential to collect all manner of secrets, from the blueprints of nuclear plants to military plans of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.
Defense officials and diplomats reached out to America’s closest foreign partners and pushed for Huawei bans. The company dispatched its own lobbyists, lawyers and public-relations firms to say it had never conducted espionage and never would. Huawei challenged the Trump administration to reveal the evidence it claimed to hold, material the U.S. said was secret to protect its sources and methods.
The White House instead offered a slim thread of evidence. In 2017, Beijing had introduced an intelligence law that said “any organization or citizen shall support, assist, and cooperate with state intelligence work.”
Huawei, the Trump administration argued, was bound by law to spy. The company countered that it applied only in China.
U.S. diplomats took printouts of the law to allies around the world, reading it aloud to officials caught up in what many saw as a feud between superpowers. The U.K., South Korea, Germany, Italy, Mexico and Canada balked at pressure to ban the company. Some were baffled by the escalating campaign.
Huawei said it was a Chinese success story whose founder was motivated not by rivalry with America but admiration for it.
Mr. Ren, a former army engineer, started out in 1987 selling telecom switches from an apartment in Shenzhen, a small city overshadowed by neighboring Hong Kong. In his telling, a 1993 Greyhound bus trip across the U.S. stirred grand ambitions.
In Dallas, Mr. Ren recalled visiting the 60,000-acre headquarters of Texas Instruments Inc. Employees there clocked overtime to take him on a daylong tour of research facilities, revealing technical details of new high-speed devices.
At National Semiconductor in California, at the time one of the world’s leading chip makers, he saw an exhibition of optical devices and 3G network switching technologies.
Mr. Ren hired a taxi to drive around the Silicon Valley research facility of International Business Machines Corp. to calculate how many square kilometers it encompassed. He felt “the United States will prosper forever,” he recalled in a blog post.
A quarter-century later, his company was a leader in artificial-intelligence research and had a smartphone brand that sold more units than Apple Inc. Huawei opened a 4-square-mile campus outside Shenzhen that featured Swiss-style trams zipping past replicas of European castles and landmarks of Paris and Verona, Italy, that housed Huawei offices and research labs.
As the company grew, it was stalked by allegations—from former employees, rival corporations and U.S. officials—that its advance relied on deceit. Huawei denied the allegations and said it was committed to complying with laws in global markets. The company settled lawsuits with competitors that accused it of stealing trade secrets, among them Cisco Systems Inc. and Quintel Technology Ltd.
Paperwork for search warrants and interview notes piled up in a Justice Department office in New York. Some companies were afraid China would retaliate if they took Huawei to court, feeding a view at the department that Huawei’s competitive advantage was impunity.
A bank ended up providing investigators with evidence for the government’s first case, which originated in the Brooklyn, N.Y., office.
In 2013, HSBC had asked Huawei to explain a news report claiming it secretly owned and operated a company that sold its products in Iran. Afterward, Ms. Meng then told the HSBC executive in the Hong Kong restaurant that Huawei adhered to U.S. sanctions.
Months after the meeting, border agents searching Ms. Meng’s electronics during a transit through John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York recovered a text file of her talking points concerning Iran. It had been deleted but not erased from the hard drive.
The file became useful when HSBC, on the hook for its own legal missteps, had to give federal prosecutors a dossier on its business with Huawei, including what Ms. Meng had said about her company’s dealings in Iran.
Federal investigators assigned a code name to keep the probe secret. HSBC and other banks cooperating with the Justice Department feared for the safety of their executives in China, as well as business ties there.
Prosecutors in April 2017 served Huawei with a subpoena to answer questions about whether it conducted business in sanctioned countries, and company executives subsequently halted travel to the U.S.
In August 2018, prosecutors readied an indictment against Huawei and Ms. Meng. They kept it under seal until she landed in a country within their reach.
Ms. Meng’s jail in Vancouver was a $4.2 million house facing the North Shore Mountains. It was the smaller of her two homes in the city.
U.S. officials had hoped Canada would keep Ms. Meng behind bars until her extradition. The billionaire’s daughter, who had been issued at least seven passports, was a flight risk, prosecutors argued during her December 2018 bail hearing.
Instead, a judge had granted her bail, set at 10 million Canadian dollars, equivalent to $7.5 million, and imposed a curfew from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. Otherwise, she was free to roam. A GPS monitor on her ankle kept Ms. Meng tethered to authorities.
Later, she received court permission to move, for security reasons, to a $12.3 million, seven-bedroom villa, two doors from the home of the U.S. consul general. Mr. Ren dispatched a team of Huawei employees to help with public relations and his daughter’s defense.
A vice president from the Brazil office and a China-based legal director were the first to arrive. They stayed in a villa nearby. A PR manager from Huawei’s headquarters followed, and he began holding impromptu news conferences on the courthouse steps, irritating Ms. Meng and her legal advisers. They worried his public statements could jeopardize the case, but Mr. Ren overruled their objections.
By April, Huawei had a more senior team in place, including Mr. Ren’s translator and personal assistant, who served as a liaison.
The former head sales executive in Europe directed Ms. Meng’s daily Zumba classes and yoga workouts. Personal chefs prepared health-conscious meals. A florist arranged bouquets for the dining table. Mr. Ren tried to prod his daughter into pursuing a Ph.D. while she waited for her release.
The cast of helpers and aides was known as Sabrina’s Team, after one of the English-language names she used.
When Ms. Meng stepped out, a set of court-appointed bodyguards, stationed in a tent pitched on the property, trailed her. Fashion boutiques accommodated her private shopping tours. She dined with friends at the Dynasty Seafood restaurant, where the city’s Chinese elite enjoyed dim sum and city views.
Huawei had built a foothold in Canada’s telecom market, including a 5G research center. Shortly after Ms. Meng’s arrest, the company ramped up its advertising around the city, draping bus stops, billboards and shopping malls in banners, many in Chinese, featuring its latest slogan—Huawei: a higher intelligence.
On March 6, 2019, three months after her arrest, bodyguards and TV cameras followed Ms. Meng into court for her extradition hearing.
On the courthouse steps, protesters opposing Beijing’s crackdown in Hong Kong set fire to a Chinese flag. Some held placards scrawled in all caps, “EXTRADITE MENG!”
The court hearing lasted just a few minutes, marking the start of a protracted legal battle. Each time Ms. Meng went to court, she passed a Chinese nurse, a member of China’s Uyghur minority, holding pictures of Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor, the two Michaels, to protest their detention.
In the northeastern city of Dandong, on the North Korea border, Michael Spavor lived with some 20 other inmates in Cell 315. At night, they slept side by side like sardines. The overflowing compound was sweltering on hot days and cold after dark. Meals were meager and unchanging: cabbage, eggs and rice.
Mr. Spavor, a Calgary native, traveled to South Korea at age 21 and taught English. He became fascinated with the authoritarian state of North Korea and began arranging tours. In 2013 and 2014, he planned three trips for Dennis Rodman, the former Chicago Bulls basketball star who had his own interest in the secretive country and its leader, Kim Jong Un.
Mr. Spavor impressed party guests in South Korea with his pitch-perfect North Korean accent.
The two Michaels had met once at a dinner in Beijing. The expatriates chatted about China, North Korea and relations between the two countries.
Mr. Kovrig had gone to Budapest after college in the mid-1990s, joining a wave of Westerners who flooded into once-closed Central European countries. He worked as a reporter and sang in a punk band before returning home to join Canada’s diplomatic service.
Fluorescent lights glowed 24 hours a day in Mr. Kovrig’s windowless cell at Beijing’s No. 1 Detention Center. For almost six months, he was confined without a whiff of fresh air. To break the monotony, he devised a daily workout of push-ups, six-minute planks and 7,000 steps around the tiny space.
Prison authorities spent the first months of Mr. Kovrig’s incarceration conducting interrogations that stretched to 10 hours. Over and over, they questioned his work at the Canadian embassy in Beijing.
In June 2019, after more than 150 days in prison, Mr. Kovrig was allowed to send a batch of letters home. The embassy scanned the stack of handwritten notes and emailed them to his wife in Toronto.
Vina Nadjibulla, a 44-year-old international security analyst, met Mr. Kovrig while they were studying international relations at Columbia University in 2001. She was raised in wartime Kabul, the daughter of a Soviet Jew and an Afghan Muslim, and had found her calling in conflict prevention at the United Nations. Mr. Kovrig proposed to her in the U.N. Assembly Hall.
He entered Canada’s foreign service, and she worked on the reconstruction of postwar Sierra Leone. The couple had separated by the time of Mr. Kovrig’s arrest. But each had promised to help the other if they were ever kidnapped during their work abroad.
Ms. Nadjibulla put her life on hold, flying between Toronto, Washington and Ottawa to petition officials who could help free Mr. Kovrig. In June, Mr. Trudeau invited Ms. Nadjibulla to his office, and she read from her husband’s letters to his family.
“If there is one faint silver lining to this hell, it’s this: trauma carved caverns of psychological pain through my mind,” one letter said. “I find myself filling those gulfs with a love for you and for life that is vast, deep and more profound and comforting than what I’ve ever experienced.”
“Come sit with me and walk with me in spirit,” Mr. Kovrig wrote. “Help me feel less isolated. Let me share the love I have for you and we’ll get through this together.”
About a week later, Mr. Trudeau arrived in Osaka, Japan, for the G-20 summit. He set out to lobby the one person who could release his two countrymen—Mr. Xi, the most powerful Chinese leader since Mao Zedong.
In meetings with Western leaders, Mr. Xi seldom joked and rarely smiled. He usually began with a monologue of talking points almost identical to his public statements. He so resolutely stuck to scripted remarks that his interpreter simply read aloud from a prepared English text. When finished, Mr. Xi would ask, “Don’t you agree?”
White House officials analyzing transcripts from closed-door talks often struggled to understand whether Mr. Xi had said anything of substance beyond his prepared statements.
In their conversations, Mr. Trump would try six or seven ways of bluntly asking a specific question, and Mr. Xi would repeat the same vague responses.
Other world leaders traded small talk and called each other by their first names—Donald, Angela, Vladimir. Even behind closed doors, Mr. Xi stuck to “Mr. President” or “Madam Prime Minister” and other honorifics.
Throughout the first half of 2019, Mr. Trudeau had failed to get an audience with Mr. Xi. His diplomats in China were frozen out. The Chinese reply to Mr. Trudeau was frustrating: It would breach protocol for Mr. Xi, China’s head of state, to speak with Mr. Trudeau, merely the head of government of Canada, whose head of state was Queen Elizabeth II.
Beijing expressed itself through trade restrictions. China blocked shipments of Canadian canola oil at its ports. In May, it barred pork from two of Canada’s top slaughterhouses. Three days ahead of the G-20 summit, it stopped all Canadian meat from entering China.
Mr. Trudeau asked Mr. Trump to speak up for Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor when the U.S. president met with the Chinese leader at the summit in Osaka.
At their meeting, Mr. Trump handed Mr. Xi a sheet of paper that listed the names of Americans being held in China. The names, written in Chinese and English, also included Michael Spavor and Michael Kovrig.
“It would be a great gesture,” Mr. Trump said with a stroke of flattery, if China could help these people get home.
Scanning the names, Mr. Xi pointedly noted that the last time the two leaders had met was the day of Ms. Meng’s arrest.
Mr. Trudeau got his opening by chance. Chile was a guest at the G-20 meeting, but its representative didn’t attend a scheduled assembly. That left Canada seated alphabetically between China and Brazil—and Mr. Xi seated to the right of Mr. Trudeau.
The Canadian prime minister passed a note, handwritten in Chinese, to Mr. Xi. “We have to communicate,” it said. Mr. Trudeau proposed they select two confidants to begin backchannel talks.
The two men stepped to the side of a conference floor, exchanged pleasantries through a translator and clasped hands.
Days later, Dominic Barton, the former global managing partner of consulting firm McKinsey & Co., carried a thin folder of notes into the gated Diaoyutai state guesthouse in Beijing. His meeting was unofficial and secret. He told his secretary he was on vacation.
The 60-year-old Canadian had risen in the slipstream of China’s economic miracle, and through more than a decade living and working in the country had ties with Chinese entrepreneurs, executives and party leaders. He had written two books on China and taught at Tsinghua University in Beijing.
Mr. Barton wasn’t a diplomat. Yet Mr. Trudeau believed he could break the diplomatic logjam and bring home the two Michaels.
An adviser had informed the prime minister that there was a 40% chance Mr. Barton’s first meeting with Chinese officials would go well, a 40% chance it would go well enough for a second visit and a 20% chance it would go sour.
The silver-haired executive smiled at a pair of Foreign Ministry officials when he and the adviser entered the meeting room. An elderly Communist Party official began reading from a stack of pages, pausing with dramatic effect for the translator to catch up.
“You have arrested Madam Meng.”
“You are lapdogs of the United States.”
Mr. Barton interrupted, and the ministry official, appointed by Mr. Xi, looked up and flipped back to the first page. Then he began rereading from the beginning. For three hours, the official read from an invective-laced script, circling back to the top each time Mr. Barton protested.
Calling for a timeout, Mr. Barton stepped into the hallway. “I think we’re in the 5%,” the adviser said, acknowledging the worse-than-expected outcome.
Mr. Barton held his tongue through the last hour of hectoring. The Chinese official focused on Section 23(3) of Canada’s 1999 Extradition Act, which gave the country’s justice minister authority to cancel an extradition.
“You don’t even know your own law!” the official said.
At the end of the meeting, Mr. Barton asked if China’s Foreign Ministry would attend a second meeting in Ottawa. No, the official said. But the Canadians were welcome to return to Beijing.
That was the only good news Mr. Barton had for the prime minister.
“OK,” Mr. Trudeau said in their phone call. “Well, that’s something.”
Weeks later, Mr. Barton was named Canada’s ambassador to China. His first test was a meeting with Mr. Xi in Beijing’s Great Hall of the People. The ambassador delivered a short speech in his halting Mandarin during an exchange that lasted barely a minute.
“My mission here is to resolve this issue,” Mr. Barton said. “I want to get Madam Meng and our people home.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Mandarin,” Mr. Xi said.
“I don’t…that’s the only Mandarin I know,” the executive replied.
Mr. Xi smiled. “It takes two people to repair a relationship,” he said.
China’s foreign minister, Wang Yi, then offered his own rough-edged advice.
“You got a lot of work to do,” Mr. Wang said, slapping Mr. Barton’s back. “You better exercise hard!”
Shortly after, Mr. Barton made his first visit to a Chinese prison. Guards escorted him past an interrogation room holding a metal chair with straps.
Guards told Mr. Spavor that he had a visitor.
The two men met in a reception room, and they were told not to discuss Mr. Spavor’s case. Mr. Barton leaned across a table toward the handcuffed prisoner. “I’m going to talk to you very fast to be able to smuggle some stuff in about the case,” he said. “Here are the four things I want to discuss. But first, is there anything you want to put on the agenda?”
Mr. Spavor, struggling with sleep, looked numb. “How long will this go on?” he said. “Every day I wake up, and it’s the same.”
Mr. Barton said he didn’t know. He spoke rapidly about efforts to free him and of the health of Mr. Spavor’s father in Calgary, who had fallen seriously ill.
When guards caught mention of Ms. Meng, they interrupted, and Mr. Barton switched subjects before returning to the case.
Mr. Barton also went to the Beijing prison to see Mr. Kovrig, who was livid and gesturing at guards he said were abusive. They had taken away his glasses, citing rules against metal objects.
“Take their numbers!” he said, his 6-foot-4 frame stretching out of his too-small prison uniform. “Write them down!”
In his letters, Mr. Kovrig had called the prison a concrete desert.
He also demanded to know about his release. “When will this get done?”
Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor were headed toward their second Christmas behind bars when NATO leaders mingled at a Dec. 3, 2019, Champagne reception in Buckingham Palace.
It was hosted in the Green Drawing Room, a long, crimson-carpeted hallway decorated with silk wallpaper and gold-framed pictures of England’s monarchs. Kate Middleton and Prince William filtered through the crowd of NATO officials charged with defending the West. Mr. Trudeau spoke privately with the queen.
The prime minister’s chief foreign policy adviser, David Morrison, grabbed a word with White House chief of staff Mick Mulvaney. Earlier in the day, the prime minister had told Mr. Trump about the ordeal the two Michaels were enduring. The U.S. agreed to a meeting in Washington, an opening Canada welcomed.
The White House had already resumed prisoner-exchange talks with Beijing. National security adviser Robert O’Brien, who followed Mr. Bolton, had recently been in Bangkok for a meeting of Asian leaders.
He surprised China’s premier, Li Keqiang, at the meeting with books for the two Canadian prisoners: “Unbroken,” Laura Hillenbrand’s profile of World War II prisoner Louis Zamperini, for Mr. Kovrig, a C.S. Lewis novel for Mr. Spavor and a Bible for each. The books contained handwritten notes reassuring the two captives that the world knew of their suffering.
As Mr. O’Brien passed on the books, he also relayed a diplomatic message: Washington wanted to talk.
Days later, China’s deputy chief of mission in Washington met discreetly with National Security Council staff at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building next to the White House. Washington had no right to demand the Canadians’ release, the Chinese delegate said: “This is not a U.S. matter.”
Beijing, however, was willing to consider another exchange first, to build trust. The U.S. could accelerate the deportation of Bank of China Ltd. manager Xu Guojun, who was sought by Chinese authorities for corruption-related charges.
In return, the Americans wanted David Lin, a Taiwanese-American pastor imprisoned for life after proselytizing in China, and Kai Li, a Chinese-American businessman from Long Island, N.Y., who was serving 10 years for espionage.
A few days before Christmas, a Canadian delegation met in Mr. Mulvaney’s office at the White House, where administration officials were preoccupied with Mr. Trump’s first impeachment hearings.
Canada’s acting ambassador to Washington, Kirsten Hillman, and Messrs. Barton and Morrison squeezed next to John Demers, the Justice Department’s assistant attorney general for national security, and Matt Pottinger, deputy national security adviser. The sooner Ms. Meng was extradited, Mr. Pottinger said, the sooner the two Michaels could be freed.
The Canadian delegation said Ms. Meng’s appeal could last years and would almost certainly end in a plea deal. If so, they said, the sooner the U.S. agreed to a plea deal, the better for Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor.
After several videoconference calls through the spring of 2020, Mr. Demers told the Canadian diplomats that the Justice Department was considering a deferred prosecution agreement: Prosecutors wouldn’t move forward with charges if Ms. Meng pledged not to commit other federal crimes.
The sticking point was that Ms. Meng would have to admit wrongdoing. Her lawyers said she would never agree because she had done nothing wrong.
Mr. Barton and his closest aides in Beijing frequently worked in a room below the Canadian embassy that had metal-coated walls to repel electronic surveillance. It was named the Salle de Deux Innocents—the Room of Two Innocents—for a travelogue written by former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau after he hitchhiked with a friend across Mao-era China.
In meetings, Mr. Barton and the aides toggled through flipboard pages with names of officials they hoped could persuade China to see the logic of settling Ms. Meng’s case with the Justice Department.
Months before her arrest, the two countries had pursued a free-trade agreement. Now, the invitations to state functions slowed to a trickle. Mr. Barton, known for his ability to strike deals in China, couldn’t get calls returned, even from longtime acquaintances. “We have come to expect this from the U.S., but we have a 50-year relationship with you,” one official said.
The mission wasn’t just faltering, Mr. Barton confided to a colleague. It was lurching toward humiliation.
In spring 2020, Mr. Barton hoped for better luck with Mr. Ren, the Huawei founder. He secured an appointment at the company’s Shenzhen headquarters, where he found Mr. Ren upbeat about his daughter’s prospects.
Madam Meng would be home soon, Mr. Ren said through his translator. Her lawyers had many grounds to appeal her extradition, and they believed one would stick. “I trust the Canadian legal system will do the right thing,” he said.
Ms. Meng, her legal team and Huawei were so confident of a win that they had her bags packed and chartered the 787th Boeing 787 ever made, a commemorative Dreamliner jet that would bring her home from Vancouver.
Days before Ms. Meng’s May 27, 2020, court hearing, her assistants staged a rehearsal for a planned photo on the steps of British Columbia’s Supreme Court building. Huawei colleagues and household staff joined Ms. Meng, flashing victory signs in front of an imagined crowd of supporters.
On the morning of the hearing, they were met instead by a jeering crowd hoisting signs: “Boycott Huawei” and “Free Canadians Michael Kovrig, Michael Spavor.”
In the courtroom, Ms. Meng’s lawyers told the judge that the U.S. extradition request was faulty. Under Canadian law, the extradition could proceed only if the offense was a crime in both Canada and the U.S.
Although U.S. prosecutors had charged Ms. Meng with bank fraud, the lawyers said, the case was in fact about U.S. sanctions on Iran, and Canada had no such sanctions. The judge declined the appeal.
Vina Nadjibulla, Mr. Kovrig’s wife, was watching the judgment and taking notes. She had spent hundreds of hours following the case. After the judge’s decision, she went to Washington to brief officials.
Each month, she sent Mr. Kovrig a letter with regards from friends. She included such cryptic messages as, “I was walking in our old stomping grounds,” meaning she had been lobbying officials at the U.N.
Ms. Nadjibulla sent nutritional and fitness advice. Mr. Kovrig began sprinkling milk powder and sesame powder from the prison canteen on meals for a protein boost; he tried pistol squats to strengthen his core. His life was so closed he didn’t understand that a pandemic was disrupting the world.
Mr. Kovrig read 20 to 30 books a month—on philosophy and geopolitics, classics from Tolstoy to Kafka and Nelson Mandela’s prison autobiography, “The Long Walk to Freedom.” He and Mr. Spavor read copies of Viktor Frankl’s meditation on life in Auschwitz, “Man’s Search for Meaning.”
Mr. Spavor shared his books with cellmates, who were rarely allowed them. In return, they helped him learn to write Chinese characters.
Mr. Kovrig’s letters home included book reviews, and Ms. Nadjibulla forwarded his recommendations to an informal book club of friends and colleagues in the U.S., Canada and Asia.
After months of requests, Chinese prison guards allowed Mr. Kovrig to call his family. Ms. Nadjibulla answered.
“V, is that you?” he said.
In the summer of 2020, as the Covid-19 pandemic spread worldwide, FBI agents arrested five academic researchers, most of them charged with lying on visa applications. Trump administration officials believed the students were exploiting U.S. research to advance China’s military. All pleaded not guilty.
The arrests prompted China to resuscitate secret prisoner-swap discussions with the U.S., which had gone silent in the pandemic. Beijing wanted its researchers back. Washington wanted its Americans—and the two Michaels.
A videoconference linked officials from the National Security Council, State Department and Justice Department with Chinese Foreign Ministry diplomats and the Ministry of Public Security. The U.S. insisted on using Microsoft Teams rather than Chinese software for the meeting.
“They are students,” a Chinese Foreign Ministry official said. “They are just studying.”
The U.S. offered to return the researchers, as well as speed up the deportation of Xu Guojun, the banker sought by China on corruption charges.
In return, the Americans wanted Kai Li, the businessman, and David Lin, the pastor, as well as Victor Liu and Cynthia Liu, American siblings blocked from leaving China since 2018. The U.S. also asked China to allow the exit of another three U.S. citizens, including two children.
The proposed exchange—seven Chinese for seven Americans, plus the two Canadians—would make it one of the largest prisoner swaps since the Cold War.
When U.S. officials raised the names of Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor, a Ministry of Public Security official said, “The Chinese people would not allow the Michaels to go home unless Madam Meng does.”
A Justice Department official encouraged the Chinese officials to talk with Ms. Meng’s lawyers about accepting the offer from federal prosecutors: freedom in exchange for an admission of wrongdoing. Persuade her to sign, the U.S. official said.
The talks fizzled. The U.S. wouldn’t bring home the Americans without the two Canadians. Ms. Meng wasn’t interested in the prosecutors’ offer.
The Chinese executive told her lawyers she would never admit wrongdoing. She was willing to remain in Vancouver for years, if necessary, while her legal team fought the U.S. extradition. The company’s reputation was at stake.
That summer, Huawei swept past Samsung Electronics Co. to become the world’s top smartphone maker. As chief financial officer, Ms. Meng had to protect the empire her father had built.
But Huawei was already tipping.
Mr. Trump, who began referring to Huawei as “Spyway,” signed off on new export restrictions in 2020 that blocked the company from buying computer chips produced with U.S. tools. The restrictions extended to manufacturers using American technology worldwide. Huawei started to run low on chips it needed to churn out smartphones, which made up around half its revenue.
Huawei also lost the license to load Google software on its phones and tablets. As sales plunged, Huawei considered shifting into electric cars.
Canada discussed the arrest of Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor at NATO counterintelligence briefings. Western leaders who spoke with Mr. Trudeau heard about the harrowing prison conditions endured by the two Michaels. Many of the details came from Ms. Nadjibulla.
One by one, the world’s wealthiest countries gravitated toward the U.S. position and cut ties with Huawei.
In July 2020, the U.K. announced it would ban the company from its networks by 2027. Two weeks later, France said it would stop renewing licenses for Huawei 5G equipment, effectively barring the company. By October, the U.K. Parliament’s defense committee said it would accelerate the Huawei ban.
Huawei’s head of public affairs in North America, Vincent Peng, bounced between the U.S., Canada and China, scouting for lobbyists to reach lawmakers and diplomats to help free Ms. Meng.
Mr. Trump lost the 2020 presidential election in November, and as the clock ticked down to a new administration, Mr. Peng called Mr. Barton a few days before Christmas. He said Huawei was going to try its luck with Joe Biden.
Mr. Biden’s first bilateral meeting as president was with Canada on Feb. 23, 2021. The first item on Mr. Trudeau’s meeting agenda was the release of Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor. “These two guys are in prison,” the prime minister said. “They are there because we are living up to our commitments to you….We need to get them out.”
“I will not interfere with the judicial process,” Mr. Biden replied. “Everything else, I am here for you.”
Ms. Meng’s detention was one area where Mr. Xi hoped he could reset U.S.-China relations under the new president. Yet from all appearances, the relationship remained volatile.
At a March 2021 meeting in Alaska, China’s top diplomat, Yang Jiechi, publicly accused the U.S. of persuading other countries to attack China. In private, Secretary of State Antony Blinken brought up the two Michaels, saying serious countries don’t kidnap people to use as bargaining chips.
That month, Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor were tried for espionage in closed-door hearings. Verdicts and sentences wouldn’t be announced until later.
As Mr. Biden took office, the Chinese leader came to see the case as an obstacle to restoring U.S.-China ties under the new administration. Mr. Xi felt his country had demonstrated sufficient resolve against Western provocation.
He tapped Xie Feng, a vice foreign minister, to bring the prisoner standoff to an end. Mr. Xi by then had sent more than 100 handwritten notes to underlings about Ms. Meng’s case.
In July 2021, the Justice Department dropped charges against the five Chinese researchers, a decision that lowered tensions between the two countries. Days later, Mr. Xie joined a gathering of senior U.S. and Chinese officials in Tianjin, the first such meeting in more than three months.
Between testy exchanges about Covid-19 and human rights, Deputy Secretary of State Wendy Sherman said her department wouldn’t block Ms. Meng’s return home if she settled with U.S. prosecutors.
That was the assurance Mr. Xie was seeking.
Two weeks after the Tianjin meeting, Mr. Barton learned that Mr. Spavor would be sentenced in Dandong. The ambassador’s team invited diplomats from allied countries to gather at the courthouse. If Canada couldn’t stop the sentencing, it wanted the world as a witness.
Mr. Barton was joined by diplomats from the U.S., Japan, Germany, Australia and New Zealand. In the courtroom, Mr. Barton opened a video call to the Canadian embassy in Beijing and narrated the proceedings.
The judge sentenced Mr. Spavor to an 11-year term for espionage, based on the number of incriminating photos authorities claimed they found on his phone. Mr. Barton called Mr. Spavor’s family and then spoke to reporters.
“Our collective presence and voice sends a strong signal to China and the Chinese government that all the eyes of the world are watching,” the ambassador said.
A month later, Mr. Barton was summoned to the U.S. Embassy safe room to read transcripts of a call between Messrs. Biden and Xi. The two leaders had again pressed each other to release the prisoners.
It was, according to Beijing, “the consensus of the two presidents.”
Mr. Barton got an unexpected call while he was wrapping up a visit to an organization serving children with special needs in Qinghai, one of China’s poorest provinces. An aide handed him a phone and said, “Xie Feng wants to speak to you now!” Mr. Barton stepped into a blue van.
Mr. Xie spoke through a translator and quizzed Mr. Barton over details for completing the deferred prosecution agreement with Ms. Meng. The snag was how the U.S. would characterize her wrongdoing. Mr. Barton relayed some potential wording, and Mr. Xie cut him off, breaking into English.
That’s good, he said.
Ms. Meng wouldn’t explicitly admit to lying—only that the statements she had made to HSBC were “untrue.”
Mr. Barton plugged in a phone charger and called off his next visit. He kept Mr. Xie on the phone to go over logistics of a deal that could easily collapse. It all hinged on one overriding question: Would Xi Jinping approve?
The decision arrived in a handwritten note from the General Office of the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party. Mr. Xi gave his consent.
On the evening of Sept. 19, one of Ms. Meng’s new lawyers emailed a statement of facts to the Justice Department. The Huawei executive would concede that what she told the HSBC banker in 2013 was untrue.
Five days later, Ms. Meng joined a Brooklyn, N.Y., court hearing in a videoconference call from Vancouver. She pleaded not guilty to the indictment and accepted the deferred prosecution agreement.
The same day, Mr. Barton arrived for a prison visit with Mr. Kovrig. He learned he would speak to the two Michaels in video calls. Mr. Spavor had already arrived in Beijing by train.
“You will have the honor of telling them they’re going home,” a security official told Mr. Barton.
Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor appeared on the calls, one after the other. Mr. Barton tried to keep his voice from breaking in his call to Mr. Spavor.
“You’re going home,” he said.
Mr. Spavor looked bewildered.
“Are you serious?”
Nervous that any snag could derail the prisoner exchange, only a few select diplomats in Canada’s Beijing embassy knew what was afoot. Embassy staff worked out travel arrangements. A diplomat’s wife volunteered to bake peanut-butter cookies for the trip home.
In Vancouver, Ms. Meng and her lawyers had a 4 p.m. deadline on Sept. 24 to complete paperwork for the agreement with the Justice Department.
After the U.S. case was done, Canada invoked Section 23(3), the article allowing the government to terminate Ms. Meng’s custody.
In China, Messrs. Spavor and Kovrig, handcuffed and blindfolded, arrived at the Tianjin airport. Mr. Barton waited in the VIP lounge.
As the Canadians cleared the immigration checkpoint in China, officers at the Vancouver airport handed Ms. Meng her own freshly stamped passport. She hugged a lawyer and bid farewell to Chinese consular officers.
Ms. Meng learned during her flight that Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor had also been freed.
After a nighttime landing, Ms. Meng descended the airplane stairs at Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport. She wore a Chinese flag pinned to her red Carolina Herrera dress and waved to a waiting crowd. Projectors flashed her name across skyscrapers in Shenzhen.
From a red carpet placed on the tarmac for her arrival, Ms. Meng raised her hands in victory and thanked one person, Chinese leader Xi Jinping.
Messrs. Kovrig and Spavor touched down in Anchorage, Alaska. On the rain-washed runway, Mr. Kovrig bent to kiss the ground. Mr. Spavor joked they should hold their kisses until they reached Canada.
Mr. Trudeau and a small entourage greeted their return in Calgary, Mr. Spavor’s hometown. They were welcomed with to-go cups of Tim Hortons coffee.
Mr. Kovrig flew on to Toronto. Ms. Nadjibulla met him there, and they embraced beside a Royal Canadian Air Force jet.
The next day, China allowed the Liu siblings to return to the U.S.
Once home, Mr. Spavor found it hard to sleep in his own bed, having grown accustomed to contorting himself in a cell beside dozens of inmates. He remains in Canada and regularly speaks by phone with Mr. Barton.
Mr. Kovrig and Ms. Nadjibulla spent weeks together writing a book on the ordeal during her stays in Spain, Canada and the Netherlands. They hope the book offers a road map for other prisoners and their families. Despite their divorce plans, they are in some ways closer now than ever, friends said.
Mr. Barton resigned his post as ambassador three months after the two Michaels returned home. He became chairman of Rio Tinto PLC, the Anglo-Australian mining conglomerate. China, long locked in a trade dispute with Australia, agreed last month to develop a $2 billion iron-ore project with his new company.
Ms. Meng was recently promoted to a six-month rotation as Huawei’s chairwoman. She no longer sets foot in Western countries.
The U.S. and Canada persuaded 66 other countries to sign a declaration against arbitrary detention to forestall similar international disputes.
The resurgence of what the U.S. has called hostage diplomacy—by China but also Iran, Venezuela, North Korea and Turkey—has reached such proportions that Mr. Biden this summer declared it a national emergency. He signed an executive order authorizing the U.S. to impose sanctions on anyone involved in wrongfully detaining Americans abroad.
Huawei has pleaded not guilty to the bank-fraud and other charges in the U.S. case. On Monday, prosecutors unsealed charges against two Chinese intelligence officers accused of trying to bribe a U.S. law-enforcement employee for confidential information about what people familiar with the case said was the Huawei investigation.
Canada in May declared Huawei a national security risk and banned it from building 5G networks in the country. It was a political decision, a Huawei spokesman said, resulting from U.S. pressure.
“We used to embrace the ideal of globalization and aspire to serve all mankind,” Mr. Ren wrote in an August company memo. “What is our ideal now? Survive and earn some money wherever we can.”
The company has since been expelled from most European and North American 5G networks.
Our sky is the same. Unchanged. Unchanging.
Our wings are the same. Untamed. Untamable.
Our heartbeat sounds the same. Only unheard, unhearable.
We're circling. Same aerial place, but different heights.
Not enough to turn our stare down and up: our eyes
are blind, blinded by our blinding
same irresistible lights.
We would not see what's just inside
every single teardrop dripping from our luminous cries.
Sam sat alone on the edge of the quiet lake, the rippling water reflecting a sky dimmed by twilight. The gentle lapping against the shore reminded him of the soft footsteps of his comrades on early morning patrols—footsteps that would never echo beside his again. A veteran now, years removed from the battlefield, the faces of his fallen brothers remained etched in his memory, vivid and unchanging. He could still hear their laughter around the campfire, their whispered reassurances in the dark, and the sharp silence that followed when one of them didn’t return. With calloused hands resting on his knees and eyes clouded by the weight of memory, Sam whispered their names like a prayer, each syllable a tribute to the bond forged in war and broken only by death. The world had moved on, but here, in the stillness, they were with him—forever young, forever brave.
~
story created via chat gp, picture created in Nightcafe, then manipulated and edited in gimp.
(AI )
Opportunity is always dangling in front of your eyes. You must grab this opportunity and act on it. And if you do not! you will walk this life as now, ever unchanging.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mochiguman from The Tatami Galaxy, one of the greatest anime of all time.
I knew I had to do this as soon as I saw those 3x3x1 quarter domes, but I ended up having to wait on the half-cone to be released in white to make it work.
Gracia Haby & Louise Jennison
A recent collaborative print made especially for our current exhibition, A key to help make your own world visible, at Craft Victoria until the end of November.
Gracia Haby & Louise Jennison
Gallery Two, Craft Victoria, 31 Flinders Lane, Melbourne
23rd October – 28th November, 2009
Poem.
A steep, cobbled street.
Elegant half-timbered, Tudor houses
with overhanging upper storeys jostle
up and down this remarkable thoroughfare.
Medieval inns, hotels and boarding houses
crowd together from end to end.
A little imagination can remove the modern car
and fill this sharp gradient with locals,
merchants, visitors, smugglers, pilgrims and travellers.
For a thousand years wood-fired chimneys have
belched their smoke above and around the
oak timbers and pale wattle and daub panelled walls,
leaving their sooty signature.
With the sky grey and the atmosphere obscured,
this ancient road seems little changed from the 15th. century.
Its unchanging ambience seems to lock us in a time warp,
a reliable time-machine that
earns world-wide affection.
This iconic Ford Model T Touring car was on display at the Classics on the Grand Car Show held in Kansas City Missouri at Crown Center.
The knowledge and skills needed by a factory worker were reduced to 84 areas. When introduced, the T used the building methods typical at the time, assembly by hand, and production was small. The Ford Piquette Avenue Plant could not keep up with demand for the Model T, and only 11 cars were built there during the first full month of production. More and more machines were used to reduce the complexity within the 84 defined areas. In 1910, after assembling nearly 12,000 Model Ts, Henry Ford moved the company to the new Highland Park complex. During this time the Model T production system (including the supply chain) transitioned into an iconic example of assembly line production. In subsequent decades it would also come to be viewed as the classic example of the rigid, first-generation version of assembly line production, as opposed to flexible mass production of higher quality products.
As a result, Ford's cars came off the line in three-minute intervals, much faster than previous methods, reducing production time from 12.5 hours before to 93 minutes by 1914, while using less manpower. In 1914, Ford produced more cars than all other automakers combined. The Model T was a great commercial success, and by the time Ford made its 10 millionth car, half of all cars in the world were Fords. It was so successful Ford did not purchase any advertising between 1917 and 1923; instead, the Model T became so famous, people considered it a norm. More than 15 million Model Ts were manufactured in all, reaching a rate of 9,000 to 10,000 cars a day in 1925, or 2 million annually, more than any other model of its day, at a price of just $260. Total Model T production was finally surpassed by the Volkswagen Beetle on February 17, 1972.
Henry Ford's ideological approach to Model T design was one of getting it right and then keeping it the same; he believed the Model T was all the car a person would, or could, ever need. As other companies offered comfort and styling advantages, at competitive prices, the Model T lost market share and became barely profitable. Design changes were not as few as the public perceived, but the idea of an unchanging model was kept intact. Eventually, on May 26, 1927, Ford Motor Company ceased US production and began the changeovers required to produce the Model A. Some of the other Model T factories in the world continued a short while.
Model T engines continued to be produced until August 4, 1941. Almost 170,000 were built after car production stopped, as replacement engines were required to service already produced vehicles. Racers and enthusiasts, forerunners of modern hot rodders, used the Model T's block to build popular and cheap racing engines, including Cragar, Navarro, and famously the Frontenacs ("Fronty Fords") of the Chevrolet brothers, among many others.
The Model T employed some advanced technology, for example, its use of vanadium steel alloy. Its durability was phenomenal, and some Model Ts and their parts are in running order over a century later. Although Henry Ford resisted some kinds of change, he always championed the advancement of materials engineering, and often mechanical engineering and industrial engineering.
In 2002, Ford built a final batch of six Model Ts as part of their 2003 centenary celebrations. These cars were assembled from remaining new components and other parts produced from the original drawings. The last of the six was used for publicity purposes in the UK.
Although Ford no longer manufactures parts for the Model T, many parts are still manufactured through private companies as replicas to service the thousands of Model Ts still in operation today.
On May 26, 1927, Henry Ford and his son Edsel drove the 15-millionth Model T out of the factory. This marked the famous automobile's official last day of production at the main factory.
"Changing and Unchanging Things: Noguchi and Hasegawa in Postwar Japan" Exhibit at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco. www.asianart.org/exhibitions/changing-and-unchanging-things
War (1952) by Isamu Noguchi. Shigaraki Stoneware. The Isamu Noguchi Foundation and Garden Museum, New York.
Photograph © 2019 Tony DeVarco
A KIMONO
"Feeling myself tied to
some deep wonder,
I tie several strings,
fasten the obi tightly and look in the full-length mirror.
Feeling myself tied
with some bewildering bond,
I fold many times over the psychological folds of womanhood
which is linked to motherhood.
I wrap my cold and burning body
with infinite tenderness and warmth,
while the man-woman relationship and four-season cycle
have passed over the unchanging woman’s pleasure –
and I found myself on that day in the fragrance of spring
when he embraced me in my long-sleeved kimono
showing yellow daffodils along a running stream.
He gently praised my twenty-year-old petals."
© 1984, Toshio Nakae
From: Tou Tou Soku Sei (Head to the East, Feet West)
Publisher: Henshuu Koubou Noa, Osaka, 1984
© Translation: 2007, William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura
Raj Ghat, Varanasi, India
Shiva : "The Auspicious One", also known as Parameshwara(the Supreme God), Mahadeva, Mahesh ("Great God") or Bholenath ("Simple Lord"), is a popular Hindu deity and considered as the Supreme God within Shaivism, one of the three most influential denominations in Hinduism.
Shiva is regarded as one of the primary forms of God, such as one of the five primary forms of God in the Smarta tradition, and "the Destroyer" or "the Transformer" among the Trimurti, the Hindu Trinity of the primary aspects of the divine. Shiva is also regarded as the patron god of yoga and arts.
Shiva is usually worshiped in the an iconic form of Lingam. Shiva of the highest level is limitless, transcendent, unchanging and formless. However, Shiva also has many benevolent and fearsome forms. In benevolent aspects, he is depicted as an omniscient Yogi who lives an ascetic life on Mount Kailash, as well as a householder with wife Parvati and two sons, Ganesha and Kartikeya or as the Cosmic Dancer. In fierce aspects, he is often depicted slaying demons.
The most recognizable iconographical attributes of the god are a third eye on his forehead, a snake around his neck, the crescent moon adorning and the river Ganga flowing from his matted hair, the trishula as his weapon and the damaru as his instrument.
Shiva as we know him today shares features with the Vedic god Rudra. Historians have also suggested that worship of Shiva existed in pre-Vedic times.
In the fall, some cedar needles carpet the forest floor...but this IS an evergreen, so the appearance of the trees is unchanging.
This is an area of our local woods that we've rarely walked in the past...we'll go again soon. I am making a set of all the photos that I have taken in these particular woods, as new trails have been added and improved recently.
"There was something formless and perfect before the universe was born.
It is serene. Empty. Solitary. Unchanging. Infinite. Eternally present.
It is the mother of the universe.
For lack of a better name, I call it the Tao."
Lao Tse, Tao Te Ching
Best Christian Music Video | Walk in the Love of God | "Attachment to God" (Korean Worship Song)
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/attachment-to-God-mv/
"Best Christian Music Video | Walk in the Love of God | "Attachment to God" (Korean Worship Song)
I
Oh Lord,
I’ve enjoyed so much of Your grace.
Why do I always feel empty inside?
Have I not gained the truth and life?
II
Reading these words can answer your questions.
“Christ of the last days brings life,
and brings the enduring and everlasting way of truth.
This truth is the path through which man shall gain life,
and the only path by which
man shall know God and be approved by God.
If you do not seek the way of life provided by
Christ of the last days,
then you shall never gain the approval of Jesus,
and shall never be qualified to enter the gate of the kingdom of heaven,
for you are both a puppet
and prisoner of history” (The Scroll Opened by the Lamb).
Almighty God, Christ of the last days, has expressed all the truths
to purify, to save mankind,
bringing man the path to eternal life.
By accepting and obeying God’s work, practicing and experiencing His words,
man can understand the truth and gain life.
III
God chose me from a vast ocean of people, miraculously arranging that I come to His side.
His kind words warmed my heart, His earnest calls woke me up from my dream.
That familiar voice, that beautiful countenance have not changed from the very beginning.
In God’s family I taste the sweetness of His love. I lean close to Him and do not want to part again.
Without God, the days were hard to bear.
I staggered along with each step full of pain.
Only with God’s hidden protection did I reach today.
And now with God’s words by me I am satisfied.
IV
With time comes great changes, the world does not stay the same. But nothing will wipe from my heart my attachment to God.
A promise of thousands of years, an unchanging oath. After many cycles of life and death I return to God’s side.
......."
Terms of Use en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
The One from Everlasting to Everlasting Holds Sovereignty over Everything
1. In the boundless universe and expanse, so many living beings are living and multiplying, following the law of life and following an unchanging rule repeatedly. Ah … ah … ah … ah….
2. He will make mankind know his existence, see his deeds, and believe in his sovereignty. God’s Management has been going forward, going forward and has never stopped. He will make mankind see his deeds, see his deeds, and return to his kingdom. This is his plan and is the work he has been managing for thousands of years.
3. The dead take away the stories of the living, and the living repeat the historical tragedy of the dead. Mankind cannot but ask: Why do we live? And why do we have to die? Who governs this world? And who created this mankind? Is it really the creation of nature? Is mankind really able to control his own destiny? Mankind does not know at all who is the Ruler of the universe and all things, much less know the beginning and the future of mankind, but is only living in this law resignedly. No one can break free from it, nor can anyone change it. This is because among all things and above the universe, there is the One from everlasting to everlasting who rules over all this, rules over all this.
4. He is the One whom mankind has never seen, the One whom mankind has never known, and the One whom mankind never believes to exist, the One whom mankind never believes to exist, but he is the One who breathed the breath into mankind’s ancestors and gives mankind life, the One who supplies and nourishes mankind for their living, the One who leads mankind to walk to this day, and much more the only One whom mankind lives by. He rules over all things, and rules over all things and living beings in the universe; he governs the four seasons and regulates the changing of wind, frost, snow, and rain; he bestows sunshine to mankind and also brings the fall of night to mankind; he stretches out the heavens and the earth and brings mankind mountains, rivers, and lakes and the living things in them.
5. His deeds are everywhere, his power is everywhere, his wisdom is everywhere, and his authority is everywhere. His deeds and his power cause mankind to have to acknowledge his real existence and have to acknowledge the fact that he rules over all things.
from “Man Can Only Be Saved in God’s Management” in The Word Appears in the Flesh
Commentary.
What charming but substantial cottages Singleton possesses.
The South Downs chalk like all areas of chalk contains
bands of black, grey and brown flint stone – hard, sharp and incredibly durable.
The “knappers” who split this stone to “face-off” the village dwellings needed to work hard to produce the thousands of tons required to finish the job.
The spirit and ambience of this place seems unchanging,
and with a flint frontage, I can see these cottages
surviving for another thousand years.
Title: As Night Falls
(Shot with FUJIFILM GFX50R)
Hawaii. United States. 2019. … 8 / 8
(Today’s photo. Previously unreleased.)
My new novel.
B♭ (B-flat)
I'm releasing it. This will truly be the last time I share it.
I won't release any more after this.
It's just a rough draft from the beginning — more like notes.
If you're interested, please give it a read. :)
The setting is New York.
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
公開します。これで本当に最後の公開です。
これ以上は公開しません。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
Images.
Bryony Jarman-Pinto … Water Come
youtu.be/z1ZAkZ5bSLs?si=56ao-cHyPzpnDsgp
::Photo Music and iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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B♭ (B-Flat)
Further excerpt released. Just a rough draft from the beginning. Like a note. Please read if you'd like. :)
Setting: New York City.
Red, Yellow, Blue——
It was just past 7 p.m. when a light drizzle began to fall on East 52nd Street.
Anaya Patel leaned against the wall of the building next to Tot Ramen, where she was supposed to meet someone, and absently stared at the traffic light at the intersection to her right.
It was already July, yet the summer felt cooler than last year’s. She regretted stepping out in just a T-shirt.
When the light turned green, Anaya squinted, narrowing her gaze.
Kana, her old classmate, was waving and smiling as she ran toward her——
The flat ceiling of Madison Square Garden seemed to bulge slightly with the heat of the crowd, or so it appeared to Jack.
Cheers welcoming the presidential candidate clashed with shouts of outrage, rattling deep inside his ears.
Jack scanned the arena quickly before glancing back down at his iPhone. Several social media apps were open at once, and furious posts streamed across the screen.
One post in the bottom right corner—on Meta—caught his eye.
A death threat.
Presidential candidate Justin Bradford was about to take the stage with his fiancée, Eleanor Blake.
As a red spotlight—the color of the Republican Party—lit up the center of the stage, the couple stepped out.
And at that exact moment, a gunshot rang out.
It was subtle enough to be missed at first—but Jack heard it. Two shots.
As chaos erupted around him, Jack quietly closed his eyes, picturing the trajectory.
The first bullet—likely from his right, near the PA system. But that area should have been covered by agents from his own unit.
He calculated the second shot. It probably came from the left side of the stage.
It was aimed with precision, taking into account the positioning of both Justin and Eleanor.
There might have been a leak.
Then came a second report.
His colleague Ben Holloway’s voice, calm as ever.
The heart was missed, but both bullets had hit. One had grazed it and lodged in the epigastric area, just under the diaphragm.
Jack replied, equally calm.
“Justin’s Bombay blood. I confirmed it three days ago with Bellevue Hospital. They have reserves stored.”
Ben responded in a low voice, as if nothing had happened.
“Understood.”
Justin was rushed to Bellevue, the closest hospital to Madison Square Garden.
Jack called Elijah Kane directly from his smartphone.
Using WhatsApp or any other messaging app was strictly forbidden in the Secret Service.
Elijah answered before the first ring ended.
“Jack, it’s bad. We don’t have it. No Bombay blood.”
Jack was stunned.
“I confirmed it three days ago. I spoke directly to the person in charge—can't recall their name—but I saw the blood bags myself.”
After a pause, Elijah replied.
“That person died in a car accident yesterday.”
Anaya Patel waited for her husband Arjun at Tot Ramen.
With her was Mika (Sato), her best friend since college—Japanese.
Just as the server placed a steaming bowl of ramen in front of her, Anaya’s phone rang.
The caller ID said Bellevue Hospital.
She answered without hesitation.
Mika looked on, concerned.
“Is this Anaya Patel? I’m Sasha Wilson from Emergency.
You may have heard—Republican presidential candidate has been shot.
We need your blood.
Stay where you are. A Secret Service vehicle is en route.”
Following Mika’s gaze, Anaya turned to the display above the counter.
A live report from MSG was playing.
Then, a man in a sleek blue suit with brown skin approached her.
“I’m Rohan Shah, Secret Service.
Please come with me to the hospital.
The car is ready.”
He reached for her hand with urgency.
Just then, Anaya’s iPhone buzzed again. An unfamiliar number.
She tapped it.
“Hello?”
“Anaya Patel?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Jack. Jack Vance. Secret Service. I’ll be there shortly.”
“How do you know where I am?”
“We’re professionals. We have our ways.”
“But the Secret Service guy is already here.”
“No—he’s not!” Jack’s voice roared through the phone.
At that instant, the man in front of her pulled a rifle from under his jacket and aimed it at her forehead.
A small gunshot rang through the restaurant.
Anaya froze.
She couldn’t speak.
As the man collapsed to the floor, another figure emerged—also pointing a gun at her.
It was her husband, Arjun.
“Freeze! FBI!”
NYPD officers in uniform and FBI agents in gray suits stormed in.
“Hands behind your head! Get down on the floor!”
The cliché movie-like commands rang out as Anaya trembled. Mika, too.
But probably no one shook more than Arjun.
Jack arrived moments later.
“Anaya Patel!”
Still trembling, Anaya answered without looking up.
“That’s me.”
Jack, drenched in sweat, pulled her upright.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
A message from Elijah arrived with a link.
Jack, now in the passenger seat with Anaya, tossed her his iPhone.
“Open it!”
She tapped it—it appeared to be a livestream.
“Good evening, New York. And Los Angeles.
My name is Zakaria Haddad.
That’s my real name.
A few years ago, I lived in Gaza.
Now I’m in a room that mimics one you know very well.”
A man with brown skin and a beard sat in what looked almost exactly like the Oval Office.
He looked at his watch, then back at the camera.
“It’s time for breaking news.
Keep your eyes on your phones.”
Just then, an alert popped up:
BREAKING: Former Democratic President Owen Reed reportedly shot at the Los Angeles Convention Center
Zakaria bowed his head slightly and chuckled.
“A sad headline, isn’t it?
But don’t be sad, America.
In Gaza, we endured 55,000 times worse.
We lost more than 55,000 loved ones.
We wept—endlessly.”
Still looking down, he clenched his fists and slammed the desk.
When he looked up, tears glistened in his eyes.
“We do not seek money.
Nor honor through death.
All we want—
are tears.
Tears equal to the ones we shed.
Only those tears can heal us.”
Placing both elbows on the desk and clasping his hands, Zakaria gently rested his chin on them. He closed his eyes, and a heavy silence filled the room. The corners of his eyes seemed to tremble ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he began to speak.
“I am just one among fifty-five thousand. Even if I disappear, the will of fifty thousand others will remain—unchanging, undying, carried forward. I am here to give voice to that will.”
Zakaria opened the desk drawer, took out a Glock 17, and slid the action, chambering a round. He raised the gun to his temple.
A Sunni Muslim, he looked straight into the camera and spoke with a hint of sarcasm.
“God bless you. America.”
Zakaria closed his eyes and pulled the trigger straight back. A dry crack echoed through the room.
The screen cut to black in an instant.
To be continued...
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Exhibition in 2025
Theme
The Nightfly
My next novel, B♭
This exhibition will reflect its imagery.
A portion of the novel will be excerpted and shared publicly.
Images
Taylor Swift – This Love [Japanese Translation]
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Organizer
Design Festa
Venue
Tokyo Big Sight
Date
Fall 2025
Contact
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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“A.I. - About Apple’s Identity”
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
---
### Will Apple Listen to Mark Zuckerberg’s Criticism?
I Don’t Think So—At Least Not for Someone Enchanted by the Apple Vision Pro.
Mark Zuckerberg, CEO of Meta, recently appeared on a well-known podcast, where he criticized Apple for failing to release an innovative product since the iPhone and for experiencing a decline in sales.
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:
Photo Music and iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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消えた境界線から生まれたもの ～ 去ってゆく川村記念美術館を振り返って ～
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
What Emerged from the Vanishing Boundaries~ Reflecting on the Departing Kawamura Memorial Museum ~
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
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8mm film of our honeymoon resurrected after decades.
youtu.be/zH-dG7bMeL4?si=yLF5_f1m-LhAVdPp
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Important Notices.
I have relaxed the following conditions.
I will distribute my T-shirt to the world for free.
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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Notice regarding "Lot No.402_”.
From now on I will host "Lot No.402_".
The work of Leonardo da Vinci who was sleeping.
That is the number when it was put up for auction.
No sign was written on the work.
So this work couldn't conclude that it was his work.
However # as a result of various appraisals # it was exposed to the sun.
A work that no one notices. A work that speaks quietly without a title.
I will continue to strive to provide it to many people in various ways.
October 24 2020 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 402 _.Copyright©︎2025 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Profile.
In November 2014 # we caught the attention of the party selected to undertake the publicity for a mobile phone that changed the face of the world with just a single model # and will conclude a confidentiality agreement with them.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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Here’s a translated version with a style suitable for a news site introduction:
---
### **Interview and Novel: My Work**
I published a book in the past.
At that time, I uploaded my interview as a PDF online, both in Japanese and English.
Now, I am making it available for free.
More details can be found on Amazon.
**Writing a Novel.**
**Photography Techniques.**
**The Sense of Distance Between the Creator and the Work.**
These all share a common theme.
I put into words the things I felt and left them behind as a record.
I hope my text reaches many readers.
Thank you.
**Mitsushiro**
🔗 **[Access the Files Here](drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...)**
### **Contents**
📄 **1. Interview (English Version)**
📖 **2. Novel: *Unforgettable* (English Version)**
📄 **3. Interview (Japanese Version)**
📖 **4. Novel: *Unforgettable* (Japanese Version)**
*(This novel is dedicated to future artists.)*
*(456 pages in Japanese manuscript format.)*
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
---
### **Synopsis**
Kei Kitami, a student preparing for university entrance exams, meets Kaori Kamimura, an event companion six years his senior, through social media.
Kaori has come to Tokyo with a dream—to befriend famous artists.
To achieve this, she needs the influence of Ryo Osawa, a well-known radio producer.
During a live radio broadcast, Osawa speaks directly to Kaori:
*"I have a wife and child. But still, I want to see you."*
Meanwhile, Rika Sanjo, Kei’s classmate who secretly harbors feelings for him, is closely watching Kaori’s every move...
---
Main story
There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.
One to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.
The other to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days staring at the shine
quietly.
Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.
I face myself to change tomorrow a vague day into something certain.
That is the meaning of a rebirth.
I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.
After she left I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After
she left # how many times did I depend too much on her # doubt her # envy her and keep on telling lies
until I realized it is love?
I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the
daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.
I had been thinking about such a thing.
However I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see
something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me # a guy filled with ambiguous unstable
tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.
Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks. Electronic Publishing. It is free now.
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable '(ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
2.unforgettable '(JNP.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3. Streamlined trajectory.(For Japanese only.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8... =11
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My Novel : Unforgettable'
(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Kei Kitami, a student preparing for university entrance exams, meets Kaori Kamimura, an event companion six years his senior, through social media.
Kaori has come to Tokyo with a dream—to befriend famous artists.
To achieve this, she needs the influence of Ryo Osawa, a well-known radio producer.
During a live radio broadcast, Osawa speaks directly to Kaori:
*"I have a wife and child. But still, I want to see you."*
Meanwhile, Rika Sanjo, Kei’s classmate who secretly harbors feelings for him, is closely watching Kaori’s every move...
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
Main story
There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.
One to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.
The other to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days staring at the shine
quietly.
Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.
I face myself to change tomorrow a vague day into something certain.
That is the meaning of a rebirth.
I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.
After she left I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After
she left # how many times did I depend too much on her # doubt her # envy her and keep on telling lies
until I realized it is love?
I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the
daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.
I had been thinking about such a thing.
However I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see
something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me # a guy filled with ambiguous unstable
tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.
Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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The schedule of the next novel.
Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable '2)
(It will not go away forever)
Please give me some more time. That is Japanese.
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My Works.
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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Do you want to hear my voice?
:)
1
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. First type.
2
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. Second type.
3
About when I started Fotolog. Architect 's point of view.
4
Why did not you have a camera so far?
5
What is the coolest thing? The photo is as it is.
6
About the current YouTube bar. I also want to tell # I want to leave.
7
About Japanese photographers. Japanese YouTube bar is Pistols.
8
The composition of the photograph is sensibility. Meet the designers in Milan. Two questions.
9
What is a good composition? What is a bad composition?
10
What is the time to point the camera? It is slow if you are looking into the viewfinder or display.
11
Family photos. I can not take pictures with others. The inside of the subject.
12
About YouTube 's photographer. Camera technology etc. Sensibility is polished by reading books.
13
About the Japanese newspaper. A picture of a good newspaper is Reuters. If you continue to look at useless photographs # it will be useless.
14
About Japanese photographers. About the exhibition.
Summary. I wrote a novel etc. What I want to tell the most.
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I talked about how to make a work.
About work production 1/2
About work production 2/2
1 Photo exhibition up to that point. Did you want to go?
2 Well # what is an exhibition that you want to visit even if you go there?
3 Challenge to exhibit one work every month before opening a solo exhibition at the Harajuku Design Festa.
4 works are materials and silhouettes. Similar to fashion.
5 Who is your favorite artist? What is it? Make it clear.
6 Creating a collage is exactly the same as taking photos. As I wrote in the interview # it is the same as writing a novel.
7 I want to show it to someone # but I do not make a piece to show it. Aim for the work you want to decorate your own room as in the photo.
8 What is copycat? Nowadays # it is suspected to be beaten. There is something called Mimesis?
kotobank.jp/word/Mimesis-139464
9 What is Individuality? What is originality?
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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Explanation of composition. 2
1.Composition explanation 2 ... 1/4
2.Composition explanation 2 ... 2/4
3.Composition Explanation 2 ... 3/4
4.Composition Explanation 2 ... 4/4
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My shutter feeling.
Today's photo.
It is a photo taken from Eurostar.
This video is an explanation.
I went to Milan in 2005.
At that time # I went from Milan to Venice.
We took Eurostar into the transportation.
This photo was not taken from a very fast Eurostar.
When I changed the track # I took a picture at the moment I slowed down.
Is there a Japanese beside you?
Please have my video translated.
:)
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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My Statistics (as of May 12, 2025)
Flickr and YouPic views:
Flickr 25,354,244 View
Youpic 8,533,634 View
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1921858836618481746
My statistics (as of December 15, 2024)
How many views have you had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 24,260,172 Views
Youpic 7,957,826 Views
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
My statistics (as of August 1, 2024)
How many views have I had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 23,192,383 Views
Youpic 7,574,603 Views
My statistics. (As of February 7, 2024)
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic
Flickr 21,694,434 Views
Youpic 7,003,230 Views
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic?
(As of November 13, 2023)
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 204 _ . Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Title.
夜のはじまり。
( FUJIFILM GFX50R shot )
ハワイ。アメリカ。2019. … 8 / 8
(今日の写真。それは未発表です。）
僕は小説のタイトルを決定しました。
僕の新しい小説のタイトル。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
僕はもう少し書き加えました。
:)
Images.
Bryony Jarman-Pinto … Water Come
youtu.be/z1ZAkZ5bSLs?si=56ao-cHyPzpnDsgp
::写真の音楽とiTunesプレイリストをリンク::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
さらに公開します。
冒頭からの走り書きです。メモ程度です。
よかったら読んでください。:)
舞台はニューヨークです。
— 赤、黄色、青ーーー
イースト５２ndストリートに小雨が舞いはじめたのは、午後七時過ぎだった。
アナヤ・パテルは、待ち合わせたトットラーメンのとなりのビルの壁面にもたれ、右手に見える十字路の信号機をぼんやり眺めていた。もう７月だというのに、昨年よりも冷夏に感じ、Tシャツ一枚で出かけてきたことを後悔していた。
十字路の信号が青に変わると、アナは目を細め、凝視した。同級生のカナがこちらへ手を振りながら微笑み、駆け寄ってきていた——
マジソンスクエアガーデンの平坦な天井は、吐き出された人の熱気でいつもより膨らんでいるように、ジャックには見えた。大統領候補を歓迎する声とそれを罵倒する叫び声が錯綜し、鼓膜の奥を揺らしていた。
ジャックは、軽く場内の隅々まで目を凝らしてから、再びアイフォンに目を落とした。画面には、いくつかのSNSが同時に広がっており、それぞれが激しい書き込みによって文字が流れてゆく。
右下の、メタの書き込みに、ジャックは目を留めた。殺害予告だ。
大統領候補のジャスティン・ブラッドフォードは、フィアンセのエリノア・ブレイクとともに間も無くステージに立つ。
共和党を示す赤い光がステージ中央に差し込むと、二人は同時に現れた。
と、同時に、銃声が響いた。
一聴しただけでは気づかなかったがジャックの耳は聴き分けた。弾は二発だ。
騒然とした場内をよそに、ジャックは静かに目を閉じた。発射音から着弾までを想像した。
一発目の弾は、ジャックの右手、たぶん、PA近辺からだ。しかし、ジャックと同じ配属のシークレットサービスが張り込んでいたはずだ。もうひとつの弾丸をジャックは再び目を閉じて計算した。
弾は、たぶん、ステージ左手側からだ。ジャスティンとエリノアの二人の立ち位置を計算しているようだ。ひょっとしたら情報が漏れていたかもしれない。
ジャックの耳に第２報が入った。同僚のベン・ホロウェイの冷静な声だ。心臓ははずれたものの、2発の弾丸が打ち込まれていた。弾は心臓をかすめ、心窩部、ちょうど横隔膜の下に食い込んでいた。
ジャックも冷静に、ベンへ伝えた。
「ジャスティンはボンベイブラッドだ。三日前にベルビュー病院に確認した。予備の血液は保管されている」
ベンは、何事もなかったかのように、わかったと静かにいった。
マジソンスクエアガーデンにもっとも近いベルビュー病院に、ジャスティンを運び込む。ジャックは、病院で控えているイライジャ・ケインにスマートフォンから直接電話した。シークレットサービスではもちろんワッツアップなどのSNSはご法度だ。
ワンコールが切れる前にすぐイライジャは反応した。
「ジャック、大変だ。血液がない。ボンベイブラッドがないんだ」
ジャックは、耳を疑った。
「三日前に、俺は直接担当の、名前は忘れたな。とにかく目の前でブラッドバッグを確認したぞ」
イライジャは、数秒の沈黙の後、応えた。
「その血液の管理者は、きのう、交通事故で亡くなったんだ」
アナヤ・パテルは、夫のアルジュンをトットラーメンで待った。
学生時代からの親友、ミカ（佐藤）（日本人）も一緒だ。
店員が、アナヤの目の前にラーメンを差し出したとき、スマートフォンが鳴った。
登録してあるベルビュー病院からだった。
アナヤは、躊躇わずに出た。着信を見たミカは不安げにアナヤを見守った。
「アナヤ・パテルさんですか？ 私は救急部のサーシャウィルソンと言います。すでにご存知かもしれませんが、共和党大統領候補が撃たれました。あなたの血が必要です。すぐに病院へ来てください。シークレットサービスの車が迎えに行きます。動かないでください」
アナヤは、呆然としているミカの視線を追って、背後を振り返った。カウンターのちょうど左上に下がったディスプレイには、MSGの現在が男性レポーターによって放映されている。
アナは開いた入り口に目を移した。青い、洗練されたスーツをまとった褐色の肌の男性が、足早にアナに寄ってきた。
「シークレットサービスのロハン・シャーと言います。私と一緒に病院へ来てください。外に車を用意してあります」
彼は真剣な眼差しでアナへ伝え、手を引こうとした瞬間、アナのアイフォンが再び震えた。番号だけ浮かびあがっている。登録されていないようだ。アナは慌てて、タッチした。
「はい」
「アナヤ・パテルさん？」
「ええ、あなたは？」
「ジャック。ジャック・ヴァンス。シークレットサービスです。もうすぐそちらへ到着します」
「わたしの場所をどうやって？」
「わたしたちはプロだ。あらゆる手段を用意しています」
「もう、シークレットサービスの人が来てるわ」
ジャックの、違う！ という怒声が響いた瞬間、目の前の男性はスーツの内から小銃を引き抜き、アナの額に向けた。
店内に小さな銃声が響いた。
アナは、震えることすら忘れ、言葉を失い、放心していた。
目の前の男性がゆっくり床へ崩れると、夫のアルジュンが、やはりアナに銃を向けて現れた。
「フリーズ！FBI ！」
数人の制服を着たNYPDとグレイのスーツを纏ったFBIが叫んだ。
「全員、手を頭の後ろに回して床に伏せろ！」
映画のようなお決まりのセリフに、アナは震えていた。もちろん、ミカも。たぶん、アナの夫のアルジュンが最も震えていただろう。
遅れて、ジャックが店内に向け、叫んだ。
「アナヤ・パテル！」
アナは、見上げることなく、そのままに応えた。足がまだ震えている。
「わたしです」
額に汗を浮かべたジャックは、アナの身を起こすと、いった。
「すぐに病院へ行く」
病院にいるイライジャから、リンク付きのメッセージが届いた。
助手席に乗り込んだアナへジャックはアイフォンを放り投げると、リンク先を開け、と叫んだ。
慌てて、アナが触れると、どうやら生放送のようだった。
「こんばんわ、ニューヨーク。そしてロサンゼルス。私の名前はザカリア・ハッダード。本名だ。
数年前、ガザに住んでいた。今は、みなさんがよく目にする部屋を真似た部屋に私はいる」
褐色の、顎髭をたくわえたザカリアは、アメリカ大統領執務室とほとんど同じ部屋の椅子に座っていた。
腕時計にゆっくり目を落としてから、再び、カメラに視線を向けた。
「そろそろブレイキングニュースだ。スマートフォンの速報に注目して欲しい」
ザカリアがそういった途端、速報が流れた。
【民主党前大統領のオーウェン・リードがロサンゼルス・コンベンション・センターで銃撃された模様です】
ザカリアは、一瞬俯いて笑いを堪えながらいった。
「悲しい速報じゃないか。アメリカのみなさん。でもどうか悲しまないで欲しい。私が経験したガザではこの55,000倍だ。55,000人以上の大切な人を失い、そして、涙を流した」
ザカリアは、再び俯いたまま、両手を固く握りしめ、力強く机を叩きつけた。
顔を上げたザカリアの目にはうっすらと涙が溢れていた。
「私たちは、お金を求めない。また、死による名誉も求めない。私たちが欲しいのは、55,000人が流した涙と同じだけの涙だ。流された涙と同じだけの涙だけが、私たちを癒す」
両肘を机につき、両手を組むと、ザカリアは静かに顎を乗せた。目を閉じて、しばらく沈黙が続いた。目尻が細かく震えているようだった。そのままゆっくり口を開いた。
「55,000人のうちの私はひとりに過ぎない。私が消えても５万人もの意思は決して消えず、引き継がれる。私は、私たちの意思をここに表明するためにいる」
ザカリアは、机の引き出しから、グロック１７を取り出すと、スライドしてチャンバーに弾を流した。そして、自分のこめかみに向けた。
スンニ派である彼は、まっすぐにカメラを見つめ、皮肉混じりにいった。
「神のご加護を。アメリカ」
ザカリアは、目を閉じると、トリガーを真っ直ぐに引いた。乾いた音が部屋に響いた。映像は、瞬時に黒へ切り替わった。
つづく。
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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２０２5年の展示
テーマ
The Nightfly
僕の次の小説。B♭（ビーフラット）
そのイメージになります。
小説の一部分を抜粋し、公開します。
Images.
Taylor Swift … This Love 【和訳】
youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=Y2g0HzhoVjnR46zS
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
主催
デザインフェスタ
場所
東京ビッグサイト
日程
2025年 秋。
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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重要なお知らせ。
僕は以下の条件を緩和します。
僕はTシャツを無料で世界中へ配布します。
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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タイトル
“” A.I. アップルのアイデンティティについて””
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
マークザッカーバーグ氏の批判に、アップルは耳を傾けるだろうか。
僕にはそう思えない。アップルヴィジョンプロに夢を見せられた僕には。
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新婚旅行の8mmフィルムを数十年ぶりに復活😃
youtu.be/zH-dG7bMeL4?si=yLF5_f1m-LhAVdPp
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” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2021 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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プロフィール
2014年11月、たった1機種で世界を塗り替えた携帯電話の広告を請け負った選考者の目に留まり、秘密保持同意書を結ぶ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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インタビューと小説。
僕の本について。
僕は、昔に本を出版しました。
その際に、僕のインタビューをPDFでネット上へアップロードしていました。
その日本語と英語。
僕は、無料でを公開します。
詳細は、アマゾンのサイトへ解説しました。
小説の書き方。
写真の撮影方法。
作品への距離感。
これらはすべて共通項があります。
僕は、僕が感じたことを文章にして、残しました。
僕のテキストが多くの人に読んでもらえることを望みます。
ありがとう。
Mitsushiro.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
１ インタビュー 英語版
２ 小説。unforgettable’ 英語版。
３ インタビュー 日本語版
４ 小説。unforgettable’ 日本語版。(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
(四百字詰め原稿用紙４５６枚)
あらすじ
大学を目指している北見ケイは、SNS上で、6歳年上のイベントコンパニオン、上村香織に出会う。
上京してきた香織の夢は、有名なアーティストの友達になるためだ。
そのためにはラジオ局のプロデューサー、大沢亮の存在が必要だった。
大沢は、ラジオの生放送中、香織へ語りかける。
「僕には妻子がある。しかし、僕は君に会いたいと思っている」
ケイの同級生で、彼を想っている三條里香は、香織の動向を探っていた。。。。。
本編
人が海へ向かう理由には、二つある。
ひとつは、波打ち際ではしゃぐ子供のように、今の瞬間の海の輝きを楽しむこと。
もうひとつは、その輝きを静かに見据えて、過ぎ去った日々を懐かしむ老人のように記憶の埃を払うこと。
二つは重なり合わないようではあるけれども、たったひとつの意味しか生まない。
再生だ。
明日っていう、曖昧な日を確実なものへと変えてゆくために、自分の存在に向き合う。
それが再生の意味だ。
十八歳だった僕には大切な人がいた。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
５ 流線形の軌跡。 日本語のみ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks.電子出版。（現在は無料）
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable’ ( ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
2.unforgettable’ ( JNP.ver.)(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3.流線形の軌跡。
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8...
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僕の小説。英語版
My Novel Unforgettable' (This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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僕の作品。
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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あなたは僕の声を聞きたいですか？
:)
1
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。１種類目。
2
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。２種類目。
3
Fotologを始めた時について。 建築家の視点。
4
なぜ、今までカメラを手にしなかったのか？
5
何が一番かっこいいのか？ 写真はありのままに。
6
現在のユーチューバーについて。僕も伝え、残したい。
7
日本人の写真家について。日本のユーチューバーはピストルズ。
8
写真の構図は、感性。ミラノのデザイナーに会って。二つの質問。
9
良い構図とは？ 悪い構図とは？
10
カメラを向ける時とは？ ファインダーやディスプレイを覗いていては遅い。
11
家族写真。他人では撮れない。被写体の内面。
12
ユーチューブの写真家について。カメラの技術等。感性は、本を読むことで磨く。
13
日本の新聞について。良い新聞の写真はロイター。ダメな写真を見続けるとダメになる。
14
日本の写真家について。その展示について。
まとめ。僕が書いた小説など。僕が最も伝えたいこと。
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作品制作について 1/2
作品制作について 2/2
１ それまでの写真展。自分は行きたいと思ったか？
２ じゃ、自分が足を運んででも行きたい展示とは何か？
３ 原宿デザインフェスタで個展を開くまでに、毎月ひとつの作品を展示することにチャレンジ。
４ 作品とは、素材とシルエット。ファッションと似ている。
５ 自分が好きなアーティストは誰か？ どんなものなのか？ そこをはっきりさせる。
６ コラージュの作成も写真の撮り方と全く同じ。インタビューに書いたように小説の書き方とも同じ。
７ 誰かに見せたい、見せるがために作品は作らない。写真と同じように自分の部屋に飾りたい作品を目指す。
８ パクリとは何か？ 昨今、叩かれるパクリ疑惑。ミメーシスとは？
https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ミメーシス
https://kotobank.jp/word/ミメーシス-139464
９ 個性とはなにか？ オリジナリティってなに？
おまけ 眞子さまについて
という流れです。
お時間がある方は是非聴いてください。
:)
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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構図の解説２
1.構図の解説２ ... 1/4
2.構図の解説２ ... 2/4
3.構図の解説２ ... 3/4
4.構図の解説２ ... 4/4
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僕のシャッター感覚
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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YouTube.
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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fotolog
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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僕の統計（2025年5月12日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 25,354,244 View
Youpic 8,533,634 View
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1921858836618481746
僕の統計。（2024年12月15日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 24,260,172 View
Youpic 7,957,826 View
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
僕の統計。（2024年8月1日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 23,192,383 View
Youpic 7,574,603 View
僕の統計。（2024年2月7日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 21,694,434 View
Youpic 7,003,230 View
僕の統計。（2023年11月13日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot no.204_ . Copyright©︎2020 Lot no.204_ All rights reserved.
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” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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The figures at the centre of the 'School of Athens' include Plato and Aristotle.
Plato is depicted in old age (with Leonardo da Vinci's face). Beside him is Aristotle, depicted here as a younger man.
Plato's right hand points upwards and he holds ‘Timaeus’, his book on the formation of the universe and an explanation of its order and beauty. Plato believed that the 'real' world around us changes and is not permanent. He said that there was a higher reality that is unchanging and permanent and that this was the ultimate reality; within it was truth, beauty, justice, and wisdom.
Aristotle's right hand is reaching forward, perhaps gesturing downwards. His teaching emphasized the tangible; he said that reality was what we can touch, see and feel. Aristotle also has a book in hand, 'Ethics'. In this book, he focused on ethical theory, justice, good governance, as well as human relationships, and living a good life.
This is perhaps Raphael's most famous fresco. It was the third fresco completed by Raphael in the room; between 1509 and 1511.
Stanza della Segnatura, Musei Vaticani; July 2019
Farming photos appeal to me because they are a testament to that part of life which is unchanging and that is comforting to find promise and continuity in our world. Many bcthanks to our farmers who are the hardest working gamblers of all.
Genesis 8:22
“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.”
Best Christian Music Video | Walk in the Love of God | "Attachment to God" (Korean Worship Song)
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/attachment-to-God-mv/
"Best Christian Music Video | Walk in the Love of God | "Attachment to God" (Korean Worship Song)
I
Oh Lord,
I’ve enjoyed so much of Your grace.
Why do I always feel empty inside?
Have I not gained the truth and life?
II
Reading these words can answer your questions.
“Christ of the last days brings life,
and brings the enduring and everlasting way of truth.
This truth is the path through which man shall gain life,
and the only path by which
man shall know God and be approved by God.
If you do not seek the way of life provided by
Christ of the last days,
then you shall never gain the approval of Jesus,
and shall never be qualified to enter the gate of the kingdom of heaven,
for you are both a puppet
and prisoner of history” (The Scroll Opened by the Lamb).
Almighty God, Christ of the last days, has expressed all the truths
to purify, to save mankind,
bringing man the path to eternal life.
By accepting and obeying God’s work, practicing and experiencing His words,
man can understand the truth and gain life.
III
God chose me from a vast ocean of people, miraculously arranging that I come to His side.
His kind words warmed my heart, His earnest calls woke me up from my dream.
That familiar voice, that beautiful countenance have not changed from the very beginning.
In God’s family I taste the sweetness of His love. I lean close to Him and do not want to part again.
Without God, the days were hard to bear.
I staggered along with each step full of pain.
Only with God’s hidden protection did I reach today.
And now with God’s words by me I am satisfied.
IV
With time comes great changes, the world does not stay the same. But nothing will wipe from my heart my attachment to God.
A promise of thousands of years, an unchanging oath. After many cycles of life and death I return to God’s side.
......."
Terms of Use en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
The One from Everlasting to Everlasting Holds Sovereignty over Everything
1. In the boundless universe and expanse, so many living beings are living and multiplying, following the law of life and following an unchanging rule repeatedly. Ah … ah … ah … ah….
2. He will make mankind know his existence, see his deeds, and believe in his sovereignty. God’s Management has been going forward, going forward and has never stopped. He will make mankind see his deeds, see his deeds, and return to his kingdom. This is his plan and is the work he has been managing for thousands of years.
3. The dead take away the stories of the living, and the living repeat the historical tragedy of the dead. Mankind cannot but ask: Why do we live? And why do we have to die? Who governs this world? And who created this mankind? Is it really the creation of nature? Is mankind really able to control his own destiny? Mankind does not know at all who is the Ruler of the universe and all things, much less know the beginning and the future of mankind, but is only living in this law resignedly. No one can break free from it, nor can anyone change it. This is because among all things and above the universe, there is the One from everlasting to everlasting who rules over all this, rules over all this.
4. He is the One whom mankind has never seen, the One whom mankind has never known, and the One whom mankind never believes to exist, the One whom mankind never believes to exist, but he is the One who breathed the breath into mankind’s ancestors and gives mankind life, the One who supplies and nourishes mankind for their living, the One who leads mankind to walk to this day, and much more the only One whom mankind lives by. He rules over all things, and rules over all things and living beings in the universe; he governs the four seasons and regulates the changing of wind, frost, snow, and rain; he bestows sunshine to mankind and also brings the fall of night to mankind; he stretches out the heavens and the earth and brings mankind mountains, rivers, and lakes and the living things in them.
5. His deeds are everywhere, his power is everywhere, his wisdom is everywhere, and his authority is everywhere. His deeds and his power cause mankind to have to acknowledge his real existence and have to acknowledge the fact that he rules over all things.
from “Man Can Only Be Saved in God’s Management” in The Word Appears in the Flesh
Diwali (also spelled Devali in certain regions) or Deepavali, popularly known as the "festival of lights", is an important five-day festival in Hinduism, Jainism, and Sikhism, occurring between mid-October and mid-November. For Hindus, Diwali is the most important festival of the year and is celebrated in families by performing traditional activities together in their homes. Deepavali is an official holiday in India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Mauritius, Guyana, Trinidad & Tobago, Suriname, Malaysia, Singapore, and Fiji.
The name Diwali is itself a contraction of the word "Deepavali" (Sanskrit: दीपावली Dīpāvalī), which translates into "row of lamps". Diwali involves the lighting of small clay lamps (diyas, or dīpa in Sanskrit: दीप) filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. During Diwali, all the celebrants wear new clothes and share sweets and snacks with family members and friends. Most Indian business communities begin the financial year on the first day of Diwali.
Diwali commemorates the return of Lord Rama along with Sita and Lakshman from his fourteen-year-long exile and vanquishing the demon-king Ravana. In joyous celebration of the return of their king, the people of Ayodhya, the Capital of Rama, illuminated the kingdom with earthen diyas (oil lamps) and burst crackers.
In Jainism, Diwali marks the attainment of moksha or nirvana by Mahavira in 527 BC. In Sikhism, Deepavali commemorates the return of Guru Har Gobind Ji to Amritsar after freeing 52 Hindu kings imprisoned in Fort Gwalior by defeating Emperor Jahangir; the people lit candles and diyas to celebrate his return. This is the reason Sikhs also refer to Deepavali as Bandi Chhorh Divas, "the day of release of detainees". Deepavali is widely celebrated in both India and Nepal.
The first day of the festival Naraka Chaturdasi marks the vanquishing of the demon Naraka by Lord Krishna and his wife Satyabhama. Amavasya, the second day of Deepawali, marks the worship of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth in her most benevolent mood, fulfilling the wishes of her devotees. Amavasya also tells the story of Lord Vishnu, who in his dwarf incarnation vanquished the tyrant Bali, and banished him to hell. Bali was allowed to return to earth once a year, to light millions of lamps to dispel the darkness and ignorance, and spread the radiance of love and wisdom. It is on the third day of Deepawali — Kartika Shudda Padyami - that Bali steps out of hell and rules the earth according to the boon given by Lord Vishnu. The fourth day is referred to as Yama Dvitiya (also called Bhai Dooj) and on this day sisters invite
In each legend, myth and story of Deepawali lies the significance of the victory of good over evil; and it is with each Deepawali and the lights that illuminate our homes and hearts, that this simple truth finds new reason and hope. From darkness unto light — the light that empowers us to commit ourselves to good deeds, that which brings us closer to divinity. During Diwali, lights illuminate every corner of India and the scent of incense sticks hangs in the air, mingled with the sounds of fire-crackers, joy, togetherness and hope. Diwali is celebrated around the globe. Outside India, it is more than a Hindu festival, it's a celebration of South-Asian identities.
While Deepavali is popularly known as the "festival of lights", the most significant spiritual meaning is "the awareness of the inner light". Central to Hindu philosophy is the assertion that there is something beyond the physical body and mind which is pure, infinite, and eternal, called the Atman. The celebration of Deepavali as the "victory of good over evil", refers to the light of higher knowledge dispelling all ignorance, the ignorance that masks one's true nature, not as the body, but as the unchanging, infinite, immanent and transcendent reality. With this awakening comes compassion and the awareness of the oneness of all things (higher knowledge). This brings Ananda (joy or peace). Just as we celebrate the birth of our physical being, Deepavali is the celebration of this Inner Light.
While the story behind Deepavali and the manner of celebration varies from region to region (festive fireworks, worship, lights, sharing of sweets), the essence is the same – to rejoice in the Inner Light (Atman) or the underlying Reality of all things (Brahman).
Source : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali
St Mary, Narford, Norfolk
Taken with a Sony Xperia z5 mobile phone.
Now a new entry on the Norfolk Churches site: www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/narford/narford.htm
The church of a village which has disappeared, begins Pevsner, but of course there are dozens of churches in a similar situation, many of them in Norfolk. There seems to have been no great disaster, no mass clearance by a landowner. Narford was big enough in the 14th Century to be granted the status of a market. But then the village quietly and simply got smaller, a process accelerated after the start of the 18th Century when the entire estate was purchased by the Fountaine family, for whom agriculture does not seem to have been a priority. By 1851, when the population of rural East Anglia was reaching a peak, there were barely a hundred inhabitants, and there are probably no more than twenty today.
When Munro Cautley visited in the 1930s, he found this little church in the park in a very neglected state. The church has had its ups and downs since, falling into disuse after a post-war restoration, but it is now in the care of the Norfolk Churches Trust, and as part of the combined parish of Narborough and Narford still holds regular services. However, anyone visiting today will, I'm afraid, still feel it is a woefully neglected place. The floors are green, the walls are black and running with water. But in fact this is the result of a series of lead thefts over the last couple of years. Anyone coming here can see very clearly the enormous damage that the current wave of lead thefts is doing to the heritage of England. Quite simply, one of the most significant manifestations of our way of life as a nation over the last thousand years is being very quickly destroyed, often by gangs from Eastern Europe. It is a disaster.
To get to the church you have to use a dedicated church way across private land. By law, there has to be reasonable access to a parish church even if it is not directly accessible by normal means. However, this is slightly complicated at Narford because the church was declared redundant. As recently as the first years of the 21st Century, a friend of mine had to be escorted to the church by the Rector of Narborough, because of the hostility of the landowners to visitors. When Pevsner's revising editor Bill Wilson came this way in the late 1980s, he was forbidden access to the church. But now some agreement has been reached, and you can walk, though not drive, to the church. It is not far, about a quarter of a mile. The church sits in an idyllic setting between the great ornamental lake and the even greater and more impressive pile of Narford Hall.
Narford Hall is famous for all sorts of reasons. When the Fountaine family bought the estate in the early 18th Century, they built one of the great houses of the age, furnished and decorated inside by the likes of Giovanni Pelligrini. Successive Fountaines were antiquarians and collectors, devoting their time and money to bringing together great art treasures from around the world and furnishing the house in an outstanding fashion.
What makes it all the more fascinating is that, since the mid-20th Century, very few people have been allowed in to see it. Pevsner's revising editor certainly wasn't. However, Pevsner was, albeit briefly, and we know this because of John Harris's wonderful and funny book No Voice From The Hall: Early Memories of a Country House Snooper. After years of trying to see inside, Harris was finally granted permission in 1960 on the condition to which all visitors had to agree, no photography. He describes the eccentric Louisa Constance Catherine Fountaine, in an ostrich-feather dress and an ostrich-feather hat which covered her face, and the great Pelligrini painted hall, piled high to the ceiling with what appeared to be mostly unopened copies of the Times, the later ones just thrown to the top of the heap. In fact, Harris and Mrs Fountaine got on very well, and she proved very knowledgeable, but during their tour there was another knock at the door.
"I am not expecting anyone," said Mrs Fountaine. The maid returned to report. "A man and a woman with a clipboard, Mum. Maybe from the Council, perhaps to read the meter." "I'd better see them," said Mrs Fountaine. "I didn't think they worked on Saturdays.' There is a ripple of amusement on our part when the maid announces "it's a Dr and Mrs Pevsner asking to see the house. From the Buildings Council.' In come Nikolaus and Lola, she indeed with a clipboard in hand. I wondered if there could be anything more off-putting to the landed classes than to arrive at the front door looking as though you'd come to read the meter.
Mrs Fountaine's husband Vice-Admiral Charles Fountaine had been a Naval ADC to King George V, and their son Andrew was probably the most infamous of the 20th Century Fountaine eccentrics. Born in 1918, he had fought as a teenager on the side of Franco in the Spanish Civil War, before signing up as an ordinary seaman in the Second World War. Before the end of the War he had been appointed a lieutenant-commander. After achieving a First in Chemistry at Cambridge, he became an active member of the Conservative Party, the ordinary route into politics for a member of the East Anglian landowning class, and even stood for parliament, but was eventually disowned by the party for his increasingly bizarre and anti-Semitic speeches. In 1960 he became a founder member of the British National Party, a far more radical party than the one with the same name today. Its paramilitary wing, Spearhead, used the Narford Hall estate for training with guns and for its annual British Aryan camp which attracted followers from all over western Europe.
The original British National Party was one of the groups which came together to form the National Front, of which Fountaine was a leading member. He stood as candidate for Norwich South in 1979, but increasingly became disillusioned by the bitter infighting between the old guard, of whom he was one, and the increasing number of younger populist neo-Nazis who would eventually split to form the British Movement. After getting just 0.7% of the vote in Norwich South, Fountaine retired from politics, to concentrate on growing trees, as his wikipedia entry quaintly puts it.
This, then, is the background against which you approach Narford church. The churchyard is bounded by new metal railings, but it is very easy to see into the park and ornamental gardens beyond. The church rides the churchyard like a ship in a storm, because the great mound that covers the Fountaine mausoleum swells against the north side of the chancel. The tower was rebuilt in 1857 in memory of Charlotte Fountaine, who had died young. The inscription around the top records her husband's fondness for her in a pleasing manner.
You step inside to a scene of near-dereliction. The walls are black with water, and the stone floor green. The large memorials in the north aisle are covered in plastic sheeting to protect them until such a time as the roofs can be replaced. There are just four benches in the short nave, facing each other in college chapel fashion. The chancel beyond is raised.
It is a haunting place. It would be hard to stand in here and not be affected by it. The two grand memorials at either end of the south aisle recall the wealth and influence of the 18th Century Fountaines. Sandwiched between the traumas of the 17th Century and the energy of the 19th Century, it was the landowners of the 18th Century who had every reason to think that their world was permanent and unchanging, that the world would always be as they knew it. Collecting art, tinkering with primitive science and technology, dispensing benevolent largesse to the poor on their estate - it is a world that is at once attractive and appalling.
At the east end of the north aisle, something has happened. The bricks that filled the entrance to the Fountaine crypt have come loose and fallen away, possibly because of the water ingress. You can see down the stairway into the vault, the wooden Fountaine coffins set in the alcoves. One facing the stairway has a coffin plate which reads CF died Aug 9th 1857. This, then, is the Charlotte Fountaine who died young, and for whom the tower was rebuilt.
Outside to the north of the church overlooking the ornamental lake and the gardens are the memorials to the 20th Century Fountaines, among them Andrew Fountaine, who died in 1997. And beyond the lake, the wind ripples thousands of young birch trees in the new plantation.
While the final results will take days to tabulate, we do know one thing: this is no Biden blowout. In fact, more people voted for Donald Trump in 2020 than voted for him in 2016.
To start out with, we can’t (and shouldn’t) pretend that what Trump has awoken is some sort of aberration. It turns out that this is what this country is. We as a nation aren’t better than this. This is who we are.
We are a nation that votes for incompetent racist demagogues who flaunt their corruption and peddle hate. Full stop. Despite whatever hopes we may have held for a blue wave this year, it is clear now that 2016 was not an isolated moment of madness. The idea that America is an exceptional nation based in freedom and democracy, with institutions and norms that are sound and unchanging, is a mirage.
Over the past few years, I’ve increasingly looked back on the hope and excitement of 2008 with bewilderment. What the hell happened? How did we go from that—to this? Perhaps Barack Obama is a once-in-a generation political talent and/or
John McCain and Mitt Romney didn’t wake the white supremacy dragon. In some sense, Trump has thrown gasoline on a smoldering fire. It’s as though some voters do want what the Democrats are selling—a higher minimum wage, better-paying jobs, worker protections, affordable healthcare—but not when those things come along with rights for Black people, LGBTQ people, and women. And yes, that’s maddening.
It may be several days before we know the results of the presidential election—an election that should not have ever been close.
So where to from here? In the near future, I plan to make a list of things I can do to become more aware of and involved in state and local politics (to the extent that I have the time and energy, of course). I am also going to think of other ways I can work to benefit my community—to learn more about what charities need support, what causes need pushing, etc. Wherever we are, we can be a cause for good—even in the midst of chaos.
None of this makes what happened yesterday okay. Still, for my own sanity, I am increasingly feeling a need to shift my focus away from the national level to focus on the things I can change. Oh—and it’s time to step away from social media. While your milage may vary, for me, social media has begun to feel increasingly unhealthy. It doesn’t help, and it only results in an increase in anxiety. There has to be a better way.
(Excerpted from an opinion blog by Libby Anne of Love, Joy, Feminism)
This expresses pretty well where the Green Valley Boys find ourselves now.
Best Christian Music Video | Walk in the Love of God | "Attachment to God" (Korean Worship Song)
I
Oh Lord,
I’ve enjoyed so much of Your grace.
Why do I always feel empty inside?
Have I not gained the truth and life?
II
Reading these words can answer your questions.
“Christ of the last days brings life,
and brings the enduring and everlasting way of truth.
This truth is the path through which man shall gain life,
and the only path by which
man shall know God and be approved by God.
If you do not seek the way of life provided by
Christ of the last days,
then you shall never gain the approval of Jesus,
and shall never be qualified to enter the gate of the kingdom of heaven,
for you are both a puppet
and prisoner of history” (The Scroll Opened by the Lamb).
Almighty God, Christ of the last days, has expressed all the truths
to purify, to save mankind,
bringing man the path to eternal life.
By accepting and obeying God’s work, practicing and experiencing His words,
man can understand the truth and gain life.
III
God chose me from a vast ocean of people, miraculously arranging that I come to His side.
His kind words warmed my heart, His earnest calls woke me up from my dream.
That familiar voice, that beautiful countenance have not changed from the very beginning.
In God’s family I taste the sweetness of His love. I lean close to Him and do not want to part again.
Without God, the days were hard to bear.
I staggered along with each step full of pain.
Only with God’s hidden protection did I reach today.
And now with God’s words by me I am satisfied.
IV
With time comes great changes, the world does not stay the same. But nothing will wipe from my heart my attachment to God.
A promise of thousands of years, an unchanging oath. After many cycles of life and death I return to God’s side.
He has sown life in my heart. His words shepherd and water me, giving trials and refinements.
Through persecutions and sufferings, my life grows ever stronger. The rough roads and failures are training grounds for me.
God has never left my side. He silently sacrifices for humanity with never a word of complaint.
I will throw off my corrupt disposition and be purified. Then I can accompany God forever.
God has never left my side. He silently sacrifices for humanity with never a word of complaint.
I will throw off my corrupt disposition and be purified. Then I can accompany God forever.
from Follow the Lamb and Sing New Songs
Dillon: *squeezes her hand once, then releases it, face disappointed* “You’re taken.”
Charley: “Uh…well, yeah. I am. How’d you know?”
Dillon: “The lad at your back. Obviously, ye have something goin’. He your boyfriend, so?”
Diego: *remains silent, expression unchanging*
Charley: *eyes widen at Dillon’s erroneous assumption, shakes head*
Dane: *stalks up, arms crossed* “No, that would be me.”
Danny & Caid: *wince in sympathy*
Dillon: “Ah now…*backs up slightly* Sorry. I just read the situation wrong is all.
Dane (savagely): “Bloody right you did.”
Charley: *reaches over to thread her fingers through Dane’s*
Danny: “Dane, this is Dillon. He’s a helluva guitarist. Met him in Dublin before we picked you up in London.”
Dane: *shoulders relax, as Charley squeezes his hand, voice losing some of its terseness* “Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to take your head off.” *gives Diego a hostile look*
Diego: *glances at Dane’s face, then away, blatantly dismissive*
Dillon: “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I put me foot in it, an’, sadly, it won’t be the last.”
Caid: “Dillon’s in town for a spell, so I told him he could bunk in our extra room.”
Dane (agreeably): “Yeah, fine. Make yourself at home…” *looks down at Charley, softly* Sorry I’m late.”
Charley: *smiles* “I’m just happy you’re here now.” *raises up on her tip-toes, kissing Dane on the chin*
Molly: *rushes into the room, practically vibrating with excitement*
Charley: *drops Dane’s hand, signs/says* “What’s up, Molls?”
Molly: *signs* “Come see! These knitting books are amazing! And Candy says I can borrow them!” *face scrunches up winsomely, as she does a little jig in celebration*
Dillon: *perks up, as he eyes Molly* “Well, hello…”
Caid: “Dibs.”
Dillon (disgustedly): “Och, are there any single birds at this thing?”
Caid: *watches Molly’s jig, infatuatedly* “She’s effin’ adorable.”
Molly: *grabs Diego’s and Charley’s hands, begins tugging them out of the room*
Charley & Diego: *exchange glances, smiling openly at one another*
Danny & Caid: *turn immediately to confront Dane, faces grave*
Danny: “Man, you gotta snake in your garden.”
Caid: *nods, arms crossed, drawls* “Mm-hmm. A Diego-shaped snake.”
Dane: *sighs, as he rubs his face, still trying to hang on to his denial* “I dunno. You think…”
Dillon: “Lad, I only just got here, an’ even I can tell ya got a reptile infestation.”
Dane: *drops his hand from his face, expression fierce* “Buggerin’ hell.”
Party to be continued…
Fashion Credits
***Any doll enhancements (i.e. freckles, piercings, eye color changes, haircuts) were done by me unless otherwise stated.***
Danny
Pants: IT – 2013 Color Infusion Style Lab – Edge of Night: Urban Descent
Shirt: Clear lan
Belt: Volks – Who’s That Girl? – Selfish
Shoes: Mattel – Playline Ken
Necklaces: Me
Doll is a Style Strategy Lukas.
Caid
Jeans: IT – Dynamite Boys – Radiant Child Remi
Grey Shirt: 2013 Color Infusion Style Lab – Edge of Night: Red-Blooded Male
Plaid Shirt: Miema (etsy.com) – I cut off the sleeves and collar.
Belt: Miema (etsy.com)
Boots: Volks – Who’s That Girl? – Selfish
Bracelets: Me
Doll is a Dark Hunter Acheron
Dillon
Jeans: IT – Dynamite Boys – London Calling Kyu
Wife-beater: IT – Dynamite Boys – Summer Daze Kyu
Black Button-up: IT – 2013 Color Infusion Style Lab – Edge of Night: Clean Cut
Scarf: IT – 2013 Color Infusion Style Lab – Edge of Night: Urban Descent
Shoes: IT – Dynamite Boys – Back to Brooklyn Remi
Necklace: Piecemealed from here-n-there
Doll is a 2013 Color Infusion Declan.
Dane
Pants: IT – Dynamite Boys – Back to Brooklyn Remi
Shirt: Volks – Who’s That Girl? – Selfish
Sweater: fakeskin (etsy.com)
Belt: Chewin
Sneakers: IT – Homme – Style Strategy Lukas
Hat: Mattel – Barbie Basics – Collection 02, Look 04
Necklace: Me
Doll is a Night Vision Count Adrian.
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
From "Sunday Morning" by Wallace Stevens...
Villa Cavrois, Croix, France, 1932
Architect Robert Mallet Stevens (1886-1945)
Built between 1929 and 1932, the villa was the result of an order placed by Paul Cavrois with the architect Robert Mallet-Stevens to house his family of seven children and his domestic servants. Covered in yellow facing bricks set on a concrete frame and double brick walls, the villa was thought out as a total work of art comprising an exemplary case of homogenous construction between architecture, decoration and furniture. It is the architect’s technical and aesthetic manifesto in terms of the care given to its materials and equipment. Clear guidelines governed the design of the building: “air, light, work, sports, hygiene, comfort and efficiency”.
The Villa Cavrois is a masterpiece of modern architecture and a unique example in the North of France. The villa is 60 meters long, it has 3.800 m² including 1.840 m² habitables and 830 m² of terraces and a garden of 17.600 m² (originally 5 ha). The Villa Cavrois is a testimony to the modernist vision of the 1920s as it was conceived by designers such as Le Corbusier, Pierre Chareau and the Bauhaus school. Luminosity, hygiene and comfort are the keywords that underlie such buildings. Villa Cavrois illustrates this concept with simplicity and elegance. The large modern mansion was organized to offer the best possible lifestyle to the nine members of the family and to facilitate the daily work of the household staff. Mallet-Stevens' work was not limited to the design of the building. He also designed the interior decoration and the gardens which surround the house. The choice of materials, concrete ceiling, metal, steel, glass, green Swedish marble in the main dining room, yellow Sienna marble in the fireplace alcove of the hall-salon, parquets of oak, iroko, zebrawood, Cuban mahogany, and the furniture of the rooms echoed the hierarchy of space: everything was conceived and adapted for use in place. Simplicity and functionality of the furniture prevail in all parts. The luxury of this house does not lie in carved detailing or gilding, it unfolds in the richness of the materials used, such as unadorned marble, metal and wood. The Villa Cavrois provided for its occupants a large number of amenities especially rare for the time, even in luxury houses. Use of the latest modern technology, especially electricity meant each room was provided with electric lighting, a radio loudspeaker, an electric clock and telephones enabled people to communicate between rooms or with the outside world. The villa was equipped with a modern boiler room and a wine cellar. The water system provided hot and cold water, as well as softened water for cooking and drinking. Lighting was the object of special care. The lighting, both direct and indirect, is very delicate and elegant. In collaboration with the lighting engineer André Salomon, Mallet-Stevens conceived an indirect lighting which fit in the architecture and he has provided most of the rooms of the villa of a lighting device system which direct the light towards the ceiling to obtain an unchanging light closer at the natural one. Hygiene was very important in the conception of the Villa Cavrois, as it is shown by the clinical aspect of the kitchen of metal and white paint and also by the presence of a swimming pool of 27 metres long and 4 metres depth at the diving boards.
The villa was occupied by German troops between 1940 and 1944 and was damaged at the end of the war. When he returned in 1947, Paul Cavrois called upon architect Pierre Barbe to add two apartments for his elder sons. The family lived in the villa until 1985. The following year, it was sold to a real estate firm that wanted to subdivide the park. Despite its automatic classification as a historic monument in 1990, the villa was no longer maintained by its owner. The State bought the property, which was in serious danger, in 2001, and undertook a major restoration project to its original historic condition as when it was inaugurated in 1932. The lighting, the furnishings attached to the decorations, as well as the bookcases and benches have all been restored using the original materials. The parquet floorings, metal doorframes and marbles have been restored or returned. The restoration of the park has returned it to the original land’s very subtle gradient with the precise layout of the alleyways, while replanting plant species identified from old photographs. The reflecting pool, which had been filled in during the war, and the swimming pool have been restored to their original state. The restoration was carried out between 2009 and 2015. Since 2012, the villa has been part of a worldwide conservation programme for emblematic houses of the 20th century, “Iconic Houses”.