Went to the Trafalgar’s rooftop garden for a party over the weekend. It’s a nice little spot to escape from the crowds in the centre of London.

(View from The Trafalgar’s roof garden)

I have never quite understood London’s (indeed all English cities) need to put its amenities on street-level. Bars, restaurants, shops… everything seems to require a door onto the street and window space. The implication is that people are too lazy or stupid to use stairs or elevators, or lack the curiosity to explore a little. I might have answered my own question.

Without vertical expansion, the result is a flabby, counter-intuitive city. Cities should condense to produce convenient, multi-faceted spaces. London and many European cities, have had the luxury of slow development into space, rather than rapid 20th century growth. Perhaps I have become to used to jam-packed, layered Asian metropolises and am just yearning for a different way of life.

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I usually see this hour (5:39a.m.) from the other side. So I thought I’d add a little perk to my morning brew by visiting the site for Japanese women’s fashion mag, PINKY.

Part of Shuiesha’s (one of Japan’s top cats in the publishing lark) stable of monthlies, PINKY is aimed at fashion conscious twenty-something gals. PINKY launched in 2004 as a sister magazine to the Japanese version of Seventeen, with several staff moving to help set up the newer title.

To my untrained eye, the magazine’s target readership is fresh, cute and girly-graduating-to-feminine, with aspirations of style and sophistication. Earlier this year one of PINKY’s free gift giveaways was a Betsey Johnson x Hello Kitty pouch.

(My two yen on Japanese magazines after the jump)

I’m a big fan of Japanese magazines. I think their design and attention to detail is often fantastic: the graphic side of the written word is really pushed to the foreground. Of course, I’ve fallen hard for Japanese design in general.

My suspicion is that the Japanese language promotes this on two fronts. First, basics of typography are interwoven into the learning of written characters. They are treated as visual, even artistic, forms from a young age through compulsory calligraphy classes in school. Such an education tends to be sorely lacking in the West.

Second, Japanese can be written and read left-to-right as well as top-to-bottom. This frees up designers considerably. For example, one can make use of thin, narrow spaces for copy, titles or captions which would be unsightly using Latin script (although compression from the needs of digital media, especially mobile platforms, has, I think made English readers more receptive to small line widths, vertical text cannot be of great length). A mixture of horizontal and vertical copy can help to create a more dynamic layout.

Anyway, more of that another time. I just wanted to look at all the pretty girls in their summer finery.

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for Miss Élysées. In NYC yet?

While out jogging yesterday I bumped into a herd of around twenty-five deer. They were bleating and bawling all manner of nonsense to each other. So I joined in.

I should explain that there is a deer park past the bottom of the garden where I am currently staying in the south east of England.

There were several fawns in the herd, probably par for the course for this time of year. Slightly more unusual was the white deer amongst them. As I shambled along short of breath, vision blurring, I must admit the first thought that popped into my head was, “Why’s that goat hanging out with all those deer?”

The deer really do make my runs along this route something special. It makes me feel like I’m communing with nature – once I switch off my iPod, let my North Face gear wick away the sweat and conveniently forget I’m not wearing Nike Air trainers (the puppies I wear are unbelievably light… I was going to link, but the Nike site is a exercise in idiocy, all flash and no usability).

On the return leg of my run, I came across the same herd. They’d returned to the field where I had first encountered them. This time I saw them early and stopped so I wouldn’t spook them too much.

As I slowly edged closer I discovered how stupid young deer can be and how much they are drawn to the apparent safety of the herd. If I had been out looking for a tasty piece of venison, I could have had my fill with no real effort.

First, as I drew nearer and the deer scattered, one hapless Cervidae decided it would be a good idea to run across my line of sight on the open path in an attempt to join its mates, rather than hiding in the ample cover of the forest. A little further on another dopey doe charged straight towards me on the path. God knows what was going through its pea brain. When the penny dropped, this deer did a fast U-turn and bounded off in the opposite direction.

My sympathies did extend to a poor little fawn. Running down one side of the path, separating it from the fields in which the rest of the herd were grazing was a wire fence. The fawn had become stuck on the wrong side and was desperately trying to cross over. The little nipper even began jumping repeatedly into the fence in the misguided notion that it would suddenly be transported to the other side.

I left the deer to get my dinner. If they’d made it any easier I might have been tempted to bag one of them instead.

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This is the works. A thick, buttery, sweet spread found in Malaysia and Indonesia. A jar of this green-gold treat found its way into my larder the other day. I’m slathering it over toast like nobody’s business.

Kaya is made from coconut milk, eggs, sugar and pandan leaf. Simple, but deceptively so. Pandan leaves are versatile, finding widespread use in Malaysian, Indonesian, Sri Lankan and Thai cuisine, sweet or savoury. They can also be made into gnarly skirts.

Outside of their natural growing regions, pandan leaves can be found in dried form (and occasionally fresh or fresh frozen) in more adventurous food stores. Thrown them into a curry or use them like vanilla in sweets. Or make that skirt you’ve never dreamed about owning.

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Last week sitting in Tom’s Kitchen, where the pork chops were quietly breaking my heart, Rossetti pulled out a bag from under the table. “For me?”, my brain salivated. A peek inside revealed Anger 3, The Devils and The Tempest (Derek Jarman’s).

More (including Anger’s Lucifer Rising on YouTube) after the jump.

I watched the Kenneth Anger shorts last night, tickled by the breeze block thick card VHS case that housed the tape. Rossetti had suggested I skip the first film, Kustom Kar Kommandos, but being ornery that only made me want to watch it. Wonderfully amusing, slightly camp, car fetishising. I’d quite like to be given a once over by the fluffy white duster used to clean the chrome automobile with such tender, loving care. Superb colours – saturated, deep pinks, pale blues, white and gleaming metal – and a great soundtrack: I think I found more to like here than Rossetti. It reminded me of parts of Ballard’s The Atrocity Exhibition…

… which also popped into my mind during the next short, Invocation of my Demon Brother. The film was interesting, but Mick Jagger’s morse code-a-like loops did my ears in after a while. Fantastic, demented visuals, effects and editing though. But only a taster of things to come.

The standout film was Lucifer Rising. I loved it. The more stately pace, compared to Invocation, worked well, as did the more restrained use of effects to heighten their impact. Lucifer also has a killer soundtrack to match the imagery. Rossetti delighted in telling me a little of the history of the film. Jimmy Page had been asked by Anger to write the soundtrack, but they fell out during production. After that, Anger turned to Beausoleil, who was in sing-sing for his involvement with the Manson family killings. Legend has it that Anger also invoked some dark, satanic curse causing Jimmy Page to fall ill, so he could no longer play guitar.

Next up, The Tempest.

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Lucifer Rising

Part I

Part II

Part III

In Japan pigs go ‘bu bu’. Whatever language they speak, they’re still delicious.

Pig! Pig! Pig!

One of my favourite Japanese meals is tonkatsu (deep-fried breaded pork cutlet). Bite through the crisp coating into succulent, tender pork. Eat with a big bowl of rice, umami-a-go-go red miso soup, a generous mound of sliced sengiri cabbage, karashi (Japanese mustard) and tonkatsu sauce. Wash down with an ice-cold Asahi. It’s a dish of champions.

When I lived in Tokyo, my local tonkatsu joint took great pride in the quality of its meat. The meat was specially sourced, from free-range, organic farms. Hell, they even made sure Mr. Porky’s delicate skin didn’t burn in the sun. It makes me happy to know my dinner was cared for. So this postcard is for innumerable you, piggy-wiggies, who have rocked my taste buds.

Compared to other ethnicities, a rather high proportion of Japanese women remind me of rabbits. I’m talking faces – and teeth – here, not costume or bedroom habits. かわいいな〜。

Bunny Love

I thought I’d delve into the crowded seas of punk-cute with this postcard. Some feedback I received on this design was, “His ears look like a stamen.” I’ll take that as an additional level of symbolism and leave.

Only two cards in and you may have noticed a theme. I only have three types of paint at the moment: burnt umber, cadmium red and titanium white. Mix them, you say. Damn you all to hell, I cry back.

Saru

Monkeys are what we’d be if we truly didn’t give a fuck about anything. The scamps.

This little simian baboushka rolled from the pages of an fascinating pocket book on Meiji to early Showa era Japanese ad images. Western influences were beginning to break through, and artists took to fusing the styles – an often fruitful process continued to this day. Far from being insular, the Japanese can be remarkably open to new ideas, devouring them with rabid hunger and producing things new and exciting.

I love postcards. It’s a small pleasure to write or receive them from far flung places around the world. Beyond that, they’re a wonderful little artistic medium. And they make swell bookmarks.

So without further ado, I’ll introduce the first card I knocked up now that my tools and materials have finally arrived from Japan.

The Bruna

Inspired by the iconic book cover designs of Dick Bruna, creator of cuniculine sensation Miffy, comes this card of intrigue and espionage. Some might have say that the pen is mightier than the sword, but then they don’t have a gun that can shoot logograms. Bang! Bang!

I picked up the first volume of xxxHOLiC by the manga collective Clamp. The series begins with a high-school student, Watanuki Kimihiro, who is plagued by spirits, and the witch who offers to help him for a price.

Clamp started out as a dōjinshi (self-published manga or novels) circle. While dōjinshi are often fan-fictions, filled with lurid sexual fantasies, or parodies of existing series, the genre has proved a fertile training ground for aspiring mangaka.

Of course, I knew nothing of that when i bought the manga. I was drawn by the deep purple page trim and opium fiend ambience of the cover. Furthermore, though I can do without androgynous young guys, Japanese artists do a nice line in Wanda von Dunajew-esque ladies.

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