Shadow Puppets with Kaneko-san

Yesterday I had my lesson with Kaneko-san and we will unfortunately be taking a yasumi next week.  I don't know the reason why anymore than my dog understood why our family left sometimes; she could only sit and wait for our return–would knowing change anything?

I will have to wait another two weeks to enjoy his company, to write another essay for him, to explain the geography of America once again, and how things in one place are more expensive than another.  Yesterday we touched on rental costs and how apartments are advertised, and countries where the tap water is safe to drink.   In my essay I wrote about the origins of the name, "Golden Week," due to our conversation the week before, but I don't know that he understood or connected the topic.  Nor do I think that he understood my short paragraph on our Nodame concert.  Anime, music students, meta-music making.  It's a little more than I can grasp, really.

I also wrote about the upcoming visit of my brother and his girlfriend, and how my brother and I are planning to go to Thailand at the end of the month to dive.

As we got ready to go, I showed him my calendar and started to explain that I would be missing a Sunday at the end of the month because I'm going to Thailand.  "Thailand?!"  he asked in amazement.  Hmmmm, yes.  I think he just had a momentary lapse of memory, but I also thought it would be amusing if all along he had thought I was making up these things in my essays.  No really, this is my life.  The life and times of a cellist playing for an orchestra called "Achee, A, Pea, Shee"  travelling to Hokkaido and California, having okonomiyaki dinners, and saying the Japanese food is delicious.  What if none of these things were real?  What if it were all just a story?   My family, friends, experiences, likes and dislikes?

I may as well be a shadow on a wall somewhere in ancient Greece, slowly coming into form through words and understanding.  Over the months, over the years, we'll start to see one another.  But there is still that final step, perhaps never possible, to actually be able to believe.  Really, I'm real.  Are you?