So, I got put on a double page spread in Snip this month.
They are probably the least flattering pictures ever, but it was an incredibly fun shoot, and the money was great, so I can’t complain.
My name is Kyna
May 24th, 2009 § 12
My name is Kyna, and less than a week ago I was discharged from hospital. I had a really nasty kidney infection. I had a 40 degree fever, I fainted when trying to sit up, I lost nearly 6 kilos over my stay in hospital.
My name is Kyna, and I found out less than a week ago that I have a chronic kidney condition.
My name is Kyna, and I am scared.
I have been sick for a few months. I had assumed it was stress-related, and my symptoms psychosomatic. This has been an incredibly hard year, and the university entry/start process this year has been galling. The past month I have had abdominal/back pains and frequent sickness, and when I finally went to the doctor, it was a little to late; I ended up an emergency case that evening. I spent the first few days in a horrible feverish blur, and after that, fortunately, I bounced back enough to Twitter. Oh, I am a child of the 21st century… Towards the end of my stay, a few more tests showed that whilst I was recovering from the acute kidney infection (which was great, as my spleen’s hideous, boom boom) it seems I have an underlying, and chronic condition. I have a lot more tests booked up, and I’m going to try not to worry too much until after I find out what’s wrong. Unfortunately, Google makes that hard. Try searching chronic kidney problem, and you may understand my panic. I know I’m fine, and whatever is wrong is going to be manageable, but I have to admit to being scared shitless.
Due to all the stress I’ve been under, I have been a mess these last few months, and I’ve lost a few very good friends as a result of it. Now I feel like everything else I’ve been worrying about is kind of irrelevant, and I don’t even know how bad this is yet. Whilst scary words like renal scarring and reflux get batted around like ping pong balls amongst my lovely new medical friends, it’ll be a CT scan and some more specialists before anything is set in stone, right?
I am thankful for this in a way. It has helped me focus. All that time in hospital, all I had was time to think about things, and whilst that brought up a lot of regrets as to how I’ve treated a people as a result of my nasty, stressy temper, it’s made me realise how small my other worries are. Money, university, boyfriends, all those silly little things that caused me to turn into a bit of a monster have faded away. I realise now how important health is, and after spending so long cooped up with a bunch of people dying of renal conditions, I realise how lucky I am to be healthy enough to have such silly little worries in the first place. I doubt the woman across the ward from me, who is facing possibly renal failure, is excessively worried about whether she can afford a new laptop for uni. Or if Mrs Kobayashi, the one waiting for a transplant, cares if she can get afford a new pair of trainers after this pair wears out. In short, my attitude has changed, and hopefully for the better. I feel like this is a second chance, now I have something big to worry about, I can see everyhing else as small enough to deal with. So, I’ll stop rambling and get to the point.
My name is Kyna, and I am sorry. I have been an awful person recently, and it’s time to make up for that.
My name is Kyna, and I am starting again, and doing things better this time round.
My name is Kyna, and I am ready.
New Bass!
March 11th, 2009 § 13
So, I finally spent all my Christmas gift vouchers on a new bass guitar. Here it is…
Like a sailor
March 2nd, 2009 § 8
So, first off, let me stress to everyone that I am perfectly aware of how obscene my language is, how sick my sense of humour is and how generally outspoken I am…I am also very aware that most of the time I am in polite company, and therefore I censor myself. My website definitely falls outside of this, and alongside brutal honesty, my readers are on the receiving end of most of my cursing…Case and point, this Wordle image; the more frequently used a word, the larger it is.
Classy, huh.
Breathtaking Japanese
February 8th, 2009 § 5
Whenever I find myself getting supremely bored of learning Japanese, something always changes my mind. this week it was Daito’s twitter update that said “なんか良くわからない感じが面白そうな気配”.
Ah, elegance of expression, how we English-speakers are sorely lacking your grace…
Networking. Less terrifying than I thought it was
February 7th, 2009 § 10
So, last night was Danny Choo’s weaboorgy, sorry, netowrking event.
It wasn’t horrible. I’m sure a lot of people are going to remember me for looking absolutely terrified the whole time I was there, mainly because I was, and I’m super proud for only stammering like twice, and even then I don’t think anyone noticed. I gave out my shitty business cards, which were kind of well received, but I guess not too many people knew what 芸術家肌 is because no one commented on it. But that’s okay.
My highlights of the evening were Danny Choo showing a slide of my youtube channel and a surprising number of people cheered, and I jumped up and down and said “I’m awesome!”, because, well, I’m modest like that. I enjoyed meeting so many people, nearly being hit in the face with a Google pen, and going clubbing with Clay and Michael later. It were ace.
But sorry to everyone I just stared at. I was a bit scared most of the time….
The girl in Aisle 10
January 6th, 2009 § 7
I was being driven home after a long day filming (and overeating) in the lovely Avely, and I heard Scapegoat Wax’s Aisle 10 (Hello Alison) for the first time. It’s such a lovely track. Apparently it was on the soundtrack for Jet Set Radio Future, which I’ve yet to play, but I’ve been told it’s a very ‘me’ game, but let’s face it, I’ll play anything, I mean, I still play Tachyon: The Fringe…
Anyway, I got to thinking about all the love songs I’ve heard and started wondering who they were written for/about and what those people were like. Take Beg Your Pardon by Josh Pyke. I think I posted up the lyrics a while ago. Anyway, it’s such a sweet little song, but I can only imagine the person it’s written abut being a little cold and demanding. I guess I’m overthinking things, but once my mind goes off on a tangent there’s no stopping it. Anyway, I’d like to be the kind of girl that gets love songs written about her all the time, mainly because I am hideously vain, but also because I think to have the kind of charisma that elicits creativity in others, to have that muse-like quality, is something amazing. I’m not even cutting out the “I want to fuck you” songs, although, that’s probably more physical charisma than out and out charm, but it follows the same train of thought. Matthew wrote a poem for me when we first started going out, but all things considered, I obviously didn’t keep his artistic interest all that long…
I realise that most of the people who read my blog are also artistically minded, so this post is mainly for you. Have you ever had a muse? Or just seen someone walking along that you thought ‘wow’ to? And what quality is it that makes you think this?
New Year’s Resolutions
January 3rd, 2009 § 8
Here are mine:-
1. Drink more cocktails.
2. Party more
3. Do what I want, when I want, how I want
My goals for this coming year (or at least the near future) are to get onto the next Youtube Live and be generally rather cool, and to learn how to DJ.
How about you guys?
New Year’s Eve
January 1st, 2009 § 9
So, it’s New Year’s Eve, and I haven’t managed to keep any of the New Year’s Resolutions I made 365ish days ago. I still have them written down on a piece of paper I keep in my purse. They were:
1. Lose weight
2. Lose weight
3. Lose weight you fat fuck
4. No really, lose some weight
PS. If you were thin, you’d look like Keira Knightley, and everyone loves her.
PPS. 2008 can be your year.
I don’t know if this is more a testament to the chronicity of my talking to myself, or to my crippling self image. I vote the former…
Anyway, this year has been a trial, and it seems that even on the last day of it, I have more worries and shit to wade through. My mother is back in hospital.
So, unlike my brother, who’s working tonight, unlike my dad who will be out somewhere getting drunk, unlike most people out with their friends, I will be spending my New Year’s Eve in hospital trying to sneak into my mum’s ward past Evil Troll Nurse, so I can at least be with her for the end of this god-awful year.
Of course, I can’t complain too much. This year saw some good as well as bad. On the upside, not only did I finally move to Japan, I had a wonderful (and epicly-dated; 8.8.8) 20th birthday with the gorgeous and generally awesome Sammi. I started modeling which, as someone who had always been the chubby weird looking girl at school, was a really odd change. I rescued my beautiful pet cat and gave her the inventive name of Kitten, I made a lot of new friends in Japan and have been living it up in Daikanyama.
On the (medical) down side, I have had 3 emergency admissions to hospital, two lots of surgery, my eye sight has once again doubled in shittiness over the past 12 months and has started to cause me real trouble in low light and with reading now too, and I found out this week I need my wisdom teeth out. Woop-de-fucking doo. In other news, my MacBok is fUxx0rdz and I’m dropping out of my course to get some hardcore studying done and try and get into another university in April, leaving my visa situation a little wobbly. My mother is sick, and faces losing her job as the organisation she works for is merged with another one based in London. My 88 year old grandmother broke her foot twice this year, and whilst she is back on her feet now, I’m starting to realise that she’s a little fragile. The recession has left my savings (oh-so-wisely kept in pounds in my building society) a lot smaller than I needed to get me through another year in uni, and so I’m looking at various slightly questionable jobs (do I do an Applemilk and take my clothes of for money/photos, or keep them on and become a hostess) as I consider getting a loan to be the last resort. Oh yeah, and then there was JLPT…
But let’s ignore the shit. No matter how awful this year has been, it could have been so much worse, and I am actually very content with things. Okay, the year turned out nothing like how I wanted it to, and whilst my prospects for next year are even shittier, who cares. I am not starving (although actually, that might improve my employment opportunities…), I’m not dying, and okay, now I have to survive on 80,000 yen a month, but it could be a lot worse, I could have nothing.
And so, as I hop in a hideously expensive taxi and head off to try and wish my mother happy new year, I’m going to ignore all the bullshit and accentuate the positive.
I mean…It’s not the end of the world, is it.
Merry Christmas from Matthew
December 24th, 2008 § 12
So, I’ve just got back from a very long walk home (2 hours in heels) from Matthew’s. We went out for dinner with his parents last night, which is always pleasant, and after that we hung around for a while, watching TV and talking about things. The conversation turned to our relationship (or current lack of one). I had always maintained that the relationship ended when he phoned me to tell me he had slept with ‘a few’ other people, and despite all the tears and histrionics on his part, I stand by that. We are friends. Matthew on the other hand kept going on about how he wanted more, how he still loved me…Well, I still love him too, I’ve spent 3 years of my life (which at this age is a significant percentage) with him, but now it’s more like brotherly love now. I stopped loving him like I did when we first met shortly after his indiscretion with one of our mutual friends. The year since then has been maintained apathy on my part, and good acting on his.
Anyway, I was tired and went up to bed, and had been laying there only 15 minutes when there was a ring on the doorbell. This would be fairly normal, but it was 2 in the morning. A girl came in. I went downstairs to get my glass of water, not thinking anything sinister was going on, and said “Hello” to her, smiled…And when I left the room she and Matthew started making out on the sofa for a while. Fair enough. I mean, we’re not together any more, it was just a little bit weird. A while later I went downstairs to get some more water then came back up. Just before I reached my door, however, a naked Matthew and Girl wearing only her knickers, came up the stairs and went into Matthew’s bedroom. Again, this is okay, but I wasn’t best pleased given Matthew’s frequent “I love you”s no more than half an hour ago. So I knocked on the door. I left them get some clothes on and when Matthew answered I simply said “It’s okay, you two can use the double bed if you want, I’m okay to sleep in here.”. Matt stepped out and said “Can I have a word?”.
We stood in the spare bedroom. I smiled and felt like I had a script almost, I was so calm and collected for this speech.
“This is how it’s going to work Matthew. I am going to pick up my clothes and go to the room next to yours. You and Natasha can come in here. I’m going to get dressed, I’m going to go downstairs, have some breakfast and a cup of tea and get the first train home. And that’s it. We will never see each other ever again, you will not try to contact me every again. Good bye Matthew.”
He tried to hug me, but I shrugged him off. Like I said I would, I got dressed. I popped my head into his/girl’s room and said to girl (again, happy and smiley me) “The double bed’s free now.”. For some reason she looked really rather flustered…
I went downstairs, to find Matthew, beer can in hand, stumbling about the kitchen, crying and being generally really drunk. He looked at me and started to say something but I cut him off.
“Goodbye Matthew. Good luck.”
I walked out the house and walked home.
The thing is, this is an absolutely honest account of how things happened. I was so scarily calm and cheerful. But this wasn’t because I’m all grown up and mature, it’s because I felt absolutely nothing. It’s because standing there, hearing the boy you loved for three years whisper the same sweet nothings to another girl as they stripped off in the bedroom that we’d spent so much time talking and cuddling in, I realised that I don’t love him any more. And that he is such a different person to when I first met him that even if this hadn’t have happened, I could never keep loving him.
It was standing there that I remembered every time one of his/my friends told me about one of Matt’s latest indiscretions before Matthew had the decency to.
It was standing there that I could, after a week of wondering, put a face (and arse…black knickers, always a good choice) to the name Natasha Winter.
And it was standing there that I smiled, and felt so happy and warm because I can finally immerse myself fully in my new relationship in Japan, and that finally I have closure on a three year chapter or my life.
As I walked out of his house I couldn’t help but giggle. It’s strange, because I should be angry and hurt and jealous or whatever, but actually, this is the best Christmas present there could be. I still like Matthew an incredible amount as a friend, and I am very happy that finally he has someone in this country that he can hopefully love as much as he once loved me, and I hope that she can love him too. And whilst I have had someone in Japan for a while now, I finally feel like any emotional baggage that might have impeded us has now been lifted and shipped elsewhere.
So, Matthew, Merry Christmas, and I wish you every success with the New Year and your new girlfriend. And for me, in the New Year, I can return to Japan not only chubbier and merrier thanks to Christmas, but I can go back fresh and new and really make a go of things out there.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrindhouse
December 8th, 2008 § 31
Who here lives in England? Who has an interest in making/being in a silly short grindhouse style movie? Who wants to meet up over the xmas hols to make one? Hell, you don’t even need to live in England to contribute.
Seriously though, why the hell not just work together on a 15 mintue whatever the fuck movie and get together to film it and piss about for a few days?
Anyone interested? It’ll be a good way to show off whatever talents you have, and I’ll be adding it to my list of films I want to showcase when my short film and music video mcThingy come out next year….
JLPT went well!
December 7th, 2008 § 7
I am lying!
Oh well…
To cheer myself up, I answered a personal ad on Metropolis. That’ll be interesting.
JLPT tomorrow (Or rather Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck….)
December 6th, 2008 § 19
[translated text]
So, for those who weren’t already aware, I am reapplying for uni with my (hopefully) new course starting in April next year. As such, I am having to JLPT this year. Ew. And I have a chest infection. Ew.
I’m so dooooooooomed.
[original text]
Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Shit bollocks fuck wank cock fuck fuckity fuckshit….
A walk in 学芸大牛頭
December 6th, 2008 § 4
I went for a long twilight walk today, listening to Boards of Canada on my iPod, and not really noticing where exactly I was going, and I soon found myself in what felt like the middle of a Takashi Miike movie.
So, first I realised that there was no main street in sight. Everywhere was only barely one-car-width streets, and the street lights were….well….a little lacking. On top of this, all the houses were pretty much rotting old style buildings, and most had strange and sinister looking nomiya underneath them. One vegetable shop had this truly scary looking old woman sitting on this little stool, peeling potatoes. But she wasn’t just peeling them, she kept going and going until there was nothing left. This, and her unwaivering stare, freaked me out quite a lot, so I turned down another random street. Just as some utility work in hakama and the flannel headscarf thing cut in front of me to disappear through a door I’m sure wasn’t really there, some man in Geta ran down the road, and the click-click-click noise was kind of a surprise…I admit to having jumped about a metre back, and promptly tripped up over this giant ginger and black cat thing. I’m secretly glad that it hurt so much, as it reassured me I wasn’t in fact dreaming. My iPod earphone fell out too, and I was pretty shocked to hear a bell chiming in the distance. It was only like one ring every ten seconds, but enough to get me curious so I started walking towards it.
Ten minutes more of dark empty streets and in some weird lightning flash moment I’m standing next to a conbini. And I turn round, and everything looks fairly normal. And then I turn back and see two 22ish year old boys with shaved heads wearing identical black pufferjackets and headbands…They were almost identical facially as well. Well, they were actually totally identical…I’m fairly certain they were twins.
It was at this point I turned on Nabi Walk on my phone and got the fuck out of there.
This, kids, is your brain on drugs.
I kid. But the whole thing actually happened today. I was pretty freaked out to be honest, but then I was just pissed off I didn’t have my camcorder. I might restage it as an art film.
PS. The title of this post is Gakugeidaigozu. The place I was in was Gakugeidaigaku, but it felt like being in the film Gozu. I was being clever ish. Not that it is at all clever….
Living in Daikanyama
December 5th, 2008 § 16
So, it’s been about four months since I moved to Daikanyama and I guess I should finally do a decently written post about it at some point, and today, the day where I made a conscious effort to look rich and artsy on my walk to American Apparel to buy some god awful fucking gym shorts and (get this) yoga pants, I can’t think of a better time to do it.
So first, let’s talk about Daikanyama. Basically, think of any song with the word “California” in it and switch it for Daikanyama. It’s about as accurate a description as you will ever get. Everything from “We’ve got more bounce in Daikanyama” through “Daikanyama dreaming” to “Daikanyama uber alles” you won’t find an easier way to describe this place to a non-resident. Although, let’s hope that Mama Cass’s “California Earthquake” never becomes applicable.
Basically, if you say you live in Daikanyama to any Tokyoite, you’ll get a moment of silence, possibly preceded by a little gasp, and nearly always followed by a grudging “Oh, that’s nice for you”. If you’re lucky, you’ll even get questions about the size of your apartment, and your rent. It’s a bit of a cool place to be. I wish I could think of an equivalent location in London, but I really can’t. Nor can I, in fact, think of any equivalent in any country/city/place that I’ve been to previous to living here. It sounds like a pretentious ramble, but actually, I am only barely living in the Daikanyama area. It is also a miracle and a mystery how I got here. But back to the town…
Daikanyama is sandwiched between Ebisu and Shibuya, and has it’s own lovely little stop (for local trains only) on that most glorious of train lines, the Toyoko-sen. The area around the station is covered in hair salons, independent clothing boutiques, and petite cafes and restaurants (this is where I live). If you go towards Shibuya along the tracks, you will find more boutiques and cafe/bars, and if you head the other way, you’ll hit designerworld. The opposite side of Daikanyama Address, one of the worst placed and hideous-yet-probably-obscenely-expensive-and-amazing-to-live-in tower blocks in the area, is a cornucopia of “Only if I sold my kidney could I buy those shoes” kind of shops. There are so many dog accessory shops it makes me want to vommit, and even a cheap T-shirt is somewhere around the 20,000yen mark. It’s a great area, don’t get me wrong, but the further towards Shibuya you walk along the 317 road, the more you feel the pretension. It’s somewhere between cafe “Aso” where the waiters are too up themselves to serve you even when you sumimasen and wave to the point you get repetitive throat/arm strain, and Hill Side Terrace (or mini rich part of Los Angeles) that I start to get uncomfortable. Actually, that whole road is covered in bullshit shops selling the most ridiculous clothes and furniture and art and…well…bullshit.
I guess as someone who has always lived in fairly average areas, be it my home town in London, where the closest we got to designer was having a Debenhams in the town centre, or Hasunuma-cho in Itabashi, where the Muji aisle in Family Mart felt like a treat, I am having a kind of rags to riches experience in this area. The people I hang out with here are artists, models and fashion designers, and all painfully rich, and then there’s me, the part-time barely-model who has to think twice about how many items she can buy at Cou Cou (300 yen store). It’s bizarre. Everyone here looks like they belong here. Just as there are Ginza and Shibuya girls, there are Daikanyama strains too. And I know that since moving here I’ve been making a more than sub-conscious effort to fit in a little more too. I might not be able to afford all-designer outfits, but I can sure as hell try. And that’s a very weird thing for me to want.
Another thing I have noticed change about myself since being here is that my self-image has altered a painful amount, and I know that my current rather drastic diet and exercise regime is more than a little based in this sudden shift from being comfortable and wobbly, to feeling fat and gross when I have to buy size 61 jeans and not 50-something like all my friends do. I’ve become accutely aware of the slightest out of place hair, the tiniest mismatch of clothing and the most trivial bag to shoes disagreement. It’s ridiculous and unbecoming, but I know how critical the people around me are, and this has really been affecting my self-esteem. Whine whine whine….
Despite my awareness of the superificial nature of so many people in this area, ultimately I realise that I am no better than anyone else here; the only difference being that instead of carrying my £1000 dog in a £1000 dog carrier to flaunt my wealth, I find other (and cheaper) ways to share that feeling of superiority. I mean, I still get a little thrill out of saying “代官山に住んでいます” whenever I get asked, and I bask in the jealous silence that follows. I genuinely love living here. Everything I need is in walking distance, which is doing wonders for my health, I am meeting so many interesting people who have similar inclinations (be it art or film or generally being cynical bastards), and ultimately, I am finally really making it on my own.
And yes, my rent is a rip off, and yes, it costs nearly three times as much to buy an onion here than a few stops down the Toyoko line, and yes, if I stay here any longer I will need a nose job, lipo and teeth veneers to keep from topping myself over feelings of physical inadequacy, but all things considered, I doubt I’ll ever want to leave…
(Fade out to “Beverly Hills” by Weezer, and you’ll get the idea)