In the end, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
6 months apart, followed by 9 days together, then the wedding.
It seems to have been a good combination. I recommend it.
I’ve been thinking about this feeling I (we) have, this ‘being married’ feeling, and wondering how much it is a result of our time apart, and how much it is a result of the wedding itself. My conclusion is that I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter anyway. The feeling is all that matters.
I’m quite surprised by how different, and how good, it does feel. I didn’t really expect things to be very different. I mean, all we’ve done is say a few words and sign a piece of paper, right? – That was the kind of attitude I may have had a couple of years back (historically, I’ve not really felt like the marrying type), but no, it seems that we’ve done much more than that.
There is a strong feeling that this is the start of something new and wonderful. The birth of a family. Our family. Joseph and *Twinkle* Tame (I do a double take every time she emails me from Tokyo using her updated email account). Mr and Mrs Tame – and baby on the way in a couple of years (but already very present in spirit).
We Are Family.
The feeling of family is strong. We laughed and played with it during the 40 hours that we had together after we had made our vows, and before *Twinkle* boarded her flight for Japan.
*Twinkle* Tame I called her. She referred to me as My Husband. We quoted lines from the wedding service to one another, grinning wildly whilst doing so.
The gift of marriage brings husband and wife together
in the delight and tenderness of sexual union
and joyful commitment to the end of their lives.
It is given as the foundation of family life
in which children are born and nurtured
and in which each member of the family,in good times and in bad,
may find strength, companionship and comfort,
and grow to maturity in love…
… *Twinkle*, I give you this ring
as a sign of our marriage.
With my body I honour you,
all that I am I give to you,
and all that I have I share with you…
I felt very happy that I had reached a point where I could make this kind of declaration, surrounded by friends and family, knowing that it was a vocalisation of the true feelings that I had for *Twinkle*.
And you know, it felt important that it was before a large group of loving friends and family. That really struck me – the presence of so many loved ones really did make a difference (of course ideally I would have streamed it live to the world, but the Church of St John the Baptist is yet to be broadband enabled).
I feel that the communal support for us, represented by the presence of those people, and by the cards, gifts, messages and posts on our Facebook walls that we received from all over the world, really added to the sense of us being blessed as a partnership. People were putting their faith in us as a couple – and that mattered a lot. It’s like cement in our relationship.
We became a ‘unit’. If I try and picture the result of the transformation, I keep on getting this image of the dry-stone wall sheep pen I slept in on the island of Crete, in Greece, in 1995.
(marriage = a sheep pen? Hmm, worrying..)
No, but I see this protective circular stone wall that is formed by *Twinkle* and I. We are interlocking pieces, providing one another with support. Able to look inward to our private enclosed space for comfort, love, advice, support and shelter (whilst I can’t see it in my visulisation, there’s probably a wifi-enabled Macbook on a little stone table in the middle of this sheep pen). This is our family unit. In our unity we give one another support in the face of the wind and rain that comes to the island now and then.
There’s a door too, and we love to welcome people into our space. We love to share the shelter (and probably wifi) of our new family with others. Together, we are a source of support for other back packers traipsing around the greek island, and hopefully an inspiration too.
May the hospitality of their home
bring refreshment and joy to all around them;
may their love overflow to neighbours in need
and embrace those in distress.
We also have much learn from our visitors, much to be inspired by.
I’m deeply touched by the investment that *Twinkle* has made in me. I know that I am the recipient of something wonderful and rare, something to be truly cherished. It’s been there for a long time, and I think was the solid rock that gave us something to hold onto when times were tough over the past 11 months (minus 10 days) apart – a rock that really came to shine through the ceremony.
Over the next few days I’ll write more about what actually happened last Friday, and share more photos.
For now though, I’ll leave it here. Any more talk of sheep pens and I may find myself with rather a lot of explaining to do over Skype…
Hurrah for my father!
In 1990 my dad took up a headship at Staunton-on-Wye Primary school
. The school was in long-term decline – there were only 28 pupils, and the local education authority was about to close it down.
When Peter came riding along on his trusty steed (old green Volvo) he declared that the school was far from beat. Over the next seven years he battled to get it back on its feet – and succeeded.
Thanks to those efforts the government has just announced that instead of closing Staunton-on-Wye primary, they will now be investing £1.6m in building a new school
next door to replace the 1862 building.
Three Cheers for the (ex)headmaster Peter Tame!
Anne Tame the artist, at work
I’m back on the Welsh garden Project site today. It’s good being here and doing some physical work. My hands smell of cow skin, and I have a delicious feeling of knackeredness. Thought I’d take advantage of the lack of rain and get the chainsaw out; spent an hour or so doing a circuit of the garden, dealing with the trees that were felled by the recent gales. With a new chain it makes for satisfying work, quickly cutting through broken boughs and branches to relieve the burden being felt by surrounding trees. It appeals to the tidyman in me too. I like natural-looking gardens, but I especially like tidy natural looking gardens.
Opening the garage for the first time in a while, I smelt death. It was a strong smell, no mistaking it. It was rising from the corpse of a large rabbit that must have been chased in there by Taize the cat some time ago.
Coming back in at lunchtime I found that same cat sleeping with my pet penguin, Pepe.
What you lookin at?
The morning-after shot: The powerful Tom has had his way; Pepe is left with conflicting feelings regarding his own sexual orientation.
After lunch, it was back out to clear up the polytunnel.
But I wasn’t really in the polytunnel emptying out last year’s tomato plant pots. Instead, I was in that sanatorium in Japan with Naoko and Reiko, as described in Murakami’s Norwegian Wood
which I’m continuing to listen to, and liking very much. I love being read to.
(I’ve just come across a source for free audiobooks at http://librivox.org
. I’ll give them a whizz as it’s a while before I can get any more on subscription from Audible).
I’m pretty good at multi-tasking. As well as listening to a book and clearing up a polytunnel, I was wearing my ‘new’ patchwork trousers.
I found them under the bed the other night. They aren’t really ‘new’, as I’ve already worn them for a couple of years, from early 1994 to 1995. I got them when I was about 16, and had them coat my legs almost everyday during my year at sixth form college. I think they were supposed to attract girls as they have home-installed zips running almost the entire length of each leg. Unfortunately they didn’t really work, and in the end I had to leave the country to lose my virginity.
Anyway, they still fit me, both in terms of waistline and length, so I think I’ll give them another spin.
Righty ho, on with ‘stuff’.
 it has been pointed out that the cat has had his testicles removed, and thus it is unlikely that he was actually having sexual intercourse with Pepe, which is a bit of a relief as if they had become too close Taize may have taken advantage of his being a cat and eaten him.
Every time I come back to my parent’s house I make a point of a) eating mum’s home-made chocolate cake, and b) sorting through the stuff under my old bed to see what of my belongings can be given away. As time passes so it becomes easier to dispose of stuff, and it’s now reached the stage where all that’s left is photos, 40 or so diaries (written when I was age 10 ~ 25), Main Lesson books from the Steiner School, and a large collection of letters from friends before the dawning of email. Oh, and the two amazing jumpers which mum knitted for me when I was about 7 years old, which I’m keeping for our girls (they WILL like dragons!). Come July, it’ll be a case of packing these up and giving Yamato Kuro Neko (delivery co) a call – Sheffield Japan Society members being eligible for a discount.
When having a look for any boxes I may have missed last night I came across a camera bag: in it, the old Olympus OM10 that got me started in photography way back in the 18th century. I thought it had been chucked, and so was pretty happy to see it again. I was even more pleased to find the old flash unit that went with it, which, it turns out, works with my NIKON D40x DSLR. OK, so it doesn’t exactly sync – I have to put the D40x on manual and compensate -but it fires. Can’t use it at shutter speeds above 1/250 though as the flash fires too late and you end up with a section blacked out as the shutter closes (see example of various shutter speeds, from 1/1000 to 1/300 to left). But yeah, this is great as I’ve wanted a flash unit for a while now as the built-in flash tends to result in bland images, and new Speedlights cost a bomb. This one’s got the 360/90 degree swivel so it can be bounced off any surface, resulting in a much more natural spread of light.
Just watching my *Twinkle* on skype. She’s on the phone to a friend but left the camera on for me to gaze longingly at her. Happy. Haven’t been in touch much lately so it’s so nice to see her face again. Reassuring to know that I can understand almost everything she says despite feeling that my Japanese has suffered a bit since I left Japan. And reassuring to find that she’s even cuter on skype than in my imagination (tee hee). What will she be like in reality I wonder?
You know I said recently that I’d be taking the Japanese Language Proficiency Test test this year? Well, I’ve been thinking a bit more about this and decided that really, I’d like to enrol on some language course or have a weekly private class to ensure that I really do continue to improve. Also, I’d like to take some training courses of some kind. Exactly what kind I don’t know. Some vocational courses. I feel that if I’m to make the most of this chance then I need some guidance. It’s all very well having skills, but if you don’t know how to apply them you’re no better off than a hedgehog armed with an aluminium foil helmet being approached by the Wheels of Doom.
It’s funny really, on the one hand I am sick of studying, but on the other hand, the thought of further study/training really excites me. I guess it’s because I associate further training with almost immediate benefits to my family. Must be careful not to hide behind “needing more training” though.
Anyway, I’d best finish off this assignment that’s due in tomorrow.
Latest addition to my mum’s art portfolio
Fascinating, thrilling day today. It is so great to see family after such a long time.
I caught the tram at 6.30am, train down to Hereford, bus to Wormelow, car to Orcop. Thoroughly enjoyable journey. Not only did I get to indulge in one of all-time favourite hobbies -sewing patches on my jeans (and this was a MAJOR patch, handmade by my talented friend Suzie H a couple of years back, I’ve been saving it for such an occasion as today’s), but also, I was able to indulge in listening to a new Audiobook – Norwegian Wood by Murakami. I’ve not read it before, but have long wanted to, knowing how much it is liked by so many of my friends. I absolutely loved ‘Kafka on the Shore’: I listened to that as I crossed the East China Sea, and found myself identifying with the characters as they made their own journey’s West.
Whilst the narration of Norwegian Wood is not spellbinding in the way that that of Kafka was, I’m really enjoying the story nonetheless. I recognise the characters in people I know, the most prominent example being that of the upper-class womaniser destined to be a bureaucrat, who appears to me as the chap from Oxford university who made it to the final of the speech contest with me last month (to the right of me in this picture).
I did a bit of PC-doctoring today, getting my sister’s webcam working for Skype (secret is to uninstall the Logitec software and let Skype handle the camera itself) which the boys liked (funny seeing yourself on screen for the first time!), and setting up iTunes so she can listen to some of the audiobooks I’ve purchased from Audible (you can license up to 3 computers to play your DRM-protected tracks).
Also talked about the wedding quite a bit, lots of good ideas emerging. It’s going to be great.
One ‘issue’ that comes up for some people is this getting-married-in-a-church business. Neither *Twinkle* or I are particularly religious, and as you know, I am not too keen on traditional Christian notions of an almighty ‘God’ …so why do I want to get married in a church?
Well, as with everything in life, a church wedding only carries the meaning that an individual chooses to assign to it. In Japan, ‘church’ weddings are popular (although the church is unlikely to be ‘real’ and the priest may well be a fake). I feel I have been somewhat influenced by the research I carried out on Japanese ‘Christian weddings’ in 2006/07, in that for me such a wedding does not necessarily have to relate to any religious tradition, and is really very appealing.
What others may label as “God” I feel is a nameless infinite source; love; an immense energy that fills us, that is us, and all of our surroundings.
Thus, a demonstration of my commitment to *Twinkle* in the ‘presence of God’ is for me, not a subscription to norms as laid out in holy texts, but rather, a powerful acknowledgement of our decision to commit to strive to bring our energies, our love, into flexible alignment.
There’s other, somewhat more tangible reasons for having a church wedding too. I want to see my dream bride walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress -it’s in all the movies! I want the experience of church bells ringing overhead, confetti being thrown as we leave the church. I’ve been influenced by popular culture, and I want to live the dream.
I also feel that our parents would appreciate a church wedding. Perhaps here again I am influenced by Japanese customs I feel that our wedding is in a way as much an event for our families as it is for us.
I’m not sure I could have handled a church wedding a year or two ago, but the timing now is perfect.
It’s been a tremendous day of synchronisity. I won’t go into details here, but just to say that thoughts that have been circulating within my head have today been vocalised by two people close to me, quite out of the blue. It’s all related to where do I go from here? Suddenly, concerns over employment after I return to Japan are made to seem like nothing but minor details that are sure to addressed through the natural unfolding of life.
These worries have been dwarfed by the appearance of this huge blank canvas that stretches out as far as the eye can see. In front of it is this incredible array of coloured materials and tools for their application. There’s a sign there too. It reads:
Paint your future. Then Live it.
Aghh! I can’t deal with that! Where’s the colouring book with the numbered options: 1 for red, 2 for blue, 3 for green? Just choose your picture and fill in as prescribed. I know if I do that I’ll succeed, everyone does!
…but a blank canvas?! You mean I can paint anything at all? …But, I dunno what to paint! And what if I go wrong, what if I get the colours mixed up?
I must work to accept that it’s only when artists move away from the colouring template that new colours are created by the mixing of the primaries, its only through experimentation that breakthroughs in style are made – and that it is these breakthroughs that bring great joy to artist and onlooker alike.
I’ve not been faced with such a huge canvas before. It keeps on getting bigger too as it is unrolled further by friends, by family, by books, by experiences. I understand that I’m being challenged to pick up one of the many tools before me and make my mark, but what tool I should use, and what colour should I apply?
It’ll come to me. I know it will. I needn’t be afraid because I will be guided by someone or something.
It’s also important that I not feel I have to paint the whole picture with a single brushstroke – I’d never dare make that sweep from left to right! If I start small with little dabs, holding a clear idea of what I’m looking to create in my mind, with time the scene will emerge. I may accidentally put a splurge of red where green would be better suited, but that red will come to play an important part, perhaps a little poppy in the field of wheat.
Hmm, it’s very exciting.
What’s even more exciting though, is that in reality, we are all faced with this canvas, every single day.