Yuta onoda biography of christopher
•
American University Magazine American
At exactly fifteen minutes past eight in the morning, on August 6, 2015, a large bronze bell tolled 10 times. Its haunting tone echoed throughout a city that aside from the ever-present chirping of cicadas, fell dead silent.
The reality of what happened in this place on this date 70 years ago to the second was kraftfull and inescapable to the 40,000 people gathered in central Hiroshima's Peace Park. While a boy in a vit shirt and a ung woman wearing a black dress träffad the bell over the course of a minute on a blistering hot day, many in the crowd folded their handheld paper fans and bowed their heads. Some closed their eyes. Others interlaced their fingers in prayer.
As they do every August 6, Koko Kondo's thoughts not only drifted to the past, but also wandered into the future.
"I think every person who attended this ceremony fryst vatten hoping for peace," she said moments after it ended. "We don't want a third, fourth, fifth bomb. Two is two to
•
The Bath
New Year’s Eve has come and gone, and I’m still thinking of my mother.
“Never go to bed dirty on New Year’s Eve,” my mother said. “You have to take a bath before you go to sleep, or you’ll fly away during the night, transformed into a bat.” Which neighbor had told her that? Mr. Naka? Mr. Miyahara? She didn’t pass this on as truth. She simply gave it to me as it was given to her. If I didn’t take a bath, she said, it might be best if she tied my foot to the bed.
I loved taking baths with my mother. I wanted a Japanese bath just so I could sit in the tub with her. The process of building my new home had already begun when I had the vision, though, and Japanese baths require a floor drain. It was too late to add one.
“I can’t have a Japanese bath,” I told my dad. “Can’t be done.”
But my dad wouldn’t give up, and at last the plumber found a way. He installed a soaking tub, a deep rectangle of white porcelain. Most important, he installed a drain into the floor next t
•
Artist Chris Crites of Seattle uses paper bags and toilet paper rolls as canvas for his incredible series, “Big Time”, which is part of an ongoing series of mug shots. For over ten years Chris has created tightly rendered and flawlessly detailed four and five color mug shot portraits hand-painted on brown paper bags. The wrinkles and folds provides a new context for his criminal portraits; employing a disposable frame for socially disposable people. The quality of the paper bags both elevate the contrast between the brightly colored acrylic portraits and their dingy backdrop. Check out more of his amazing work, on his website- here, and Flickr photostream, here. Also, be sure to check out his book of collected mug shots, which can be purchased, here.
“Years ago I saw a book of black and white crime photographs from the past. I found it amazing. The characters and crime scenes looked like surreal glimpses into the history of human interaction. Much more intrigu