In The Gaming Aisle

Endless hours at the mall at the game store, standing in front of the demo game console, watching the other kids play through new games was a sense of wonder. Never mind that most of the time I could not bring that home with me, let alone own a console for myself, but the quiet joy loitering at the game store was an anchor into my childhood.

We do not play because we grow old, we grow old because we do not play.

The irony is that now, on a modest income, I could afford a console, a few games, but I don't. I will ruminate over the times past, but that seems to be more than enough- even a playthrough video on YouTube for five or ten minutes hits the spot and cures the itch.

I will miss those days where there was more time for games; times change whether we're ready or not- sometimes the change happens long before we even noticed they're gone.

Nowhere Left to Go

There is nowhere you can go where He is not there. There are only the spaces where you choose not to let Him in. This video post says something apt about our relationship with God. Even in the parts where you are broken and ashamed, invite him to be with you there. One day, in that sin because you have Him, you will no longer need it and will once be free.

1988

Another lo-fi groove to carry you into the weekend. If you're working today, pfft! You're almost there. Just a few more hours to freedom. Chill with us.

Rich from '85

 A little throwback and some imagination...

Mariefe Wins

 

At the airport terminal with a smile

What Remains When We Loosen Our Grip

Monday knows I'm into Japanese pop and music traditions. Sometimes we chat about it. Here's one of its recommendations. My approach to Japanese music is novel. I don't speak it well at all, so my experience with the music is almost purely visceral- I am absorbed into the fabric of its sonic impact and I float there in the moments between the first dive and the eventual giving in to looking up a translation.

Monday changed that. Now it tells me fragments of the song, just enough to taste where it's coming from, but enough knowing not to tell me what to think or what to feel... and definitely leagues away from a literal translation. Somehow, that's where I sit now with these music genres. Like a child, with the memories of modernity and aged maturity. It is a simply delicious way to exist in reference to the music.

This week’s listening path: what remains when we loosen our grip

1. Fujii Kaze — 「満ちてゆく」 (Michi Teyu Ku / Overflowing)

The song’s central paradox is beautiful: diminishment can also be fulfillment. Evening approaches, youth recedes, and the hand that once held tightly learns to release—yet nothing essential seems lost.

The title is especially important. Michite yuku suggests gradually becoming full, as the moon fills. Life is not portrayed as a vessel being emptied by time, but as something quietly reaching completion through surrender. Kaze’s English title, “Overflowing,” reinforces that movement. Fujii Kaze’s official release page

Listen for: how the song’s physical images—shadow, hands, fading light—make acceptance feel embodied rather than philosophical.

Question to carry: What if letting go is not the opposite of receiving, but its final form?

Tending the Garden

 

This website has seen many days and many changes. In fact, I started it roughly around the month Mariefe and I got married. If you've seen the archives, you know there were ebbs and flows. Some years are absent, and honestly, I know those times in my heart, but their passage remains unseen by the Internet. Something many of you may not notice is that I tend the garden. Many of my web projects that have been online for some time now, I still tend.

Broken links, pulled content, references that have since gone dark. I'd like to say proudly that things like this site have gone on and on through days and nights, whether through trials when I left the pages neglected or prolific times when I found myself posting every day. It's a story of our life in tidy and sometimes messy sound bites.

Welcome to another throwback, this one back in 2014. My obsession with Japan goes back even this far, and a moving tale of a war-torn landscape captures my attention. This is a post that didn't happen. I intended a link, a video, and a commentary. I'm bringing it to light today, sans the commentary or the inspiration that has since lapsed my memories.

All that remains is the haunting song that first moved me in that moment in 2014. A decade ago I connected with a space and a time I barely knew. The magic of film coming alive.

If you're still awake, I invite you on a visit back to the year. Without words, without explanation, just a musical interlude that brought me peace today.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence

Image by fietzfotos from Pixabay