Visiting the Grave
It was the first day of Obon in Japan. The temperature was stable, and it was not too hot. I got the idea to visit a grave. I went there with my parents by car. My mom drove. My father enthusiastically cleaned the grave. We stopped by a supermarket, but my father did not get out of the car. He must be a hikikomori, and he must be seriously ill. In the evening, I went to Bar Nagomi and returned home quickly. I had pork cutlet with my parents. I fell asleep just before midnight.
Heads-up! These aren't journal entries – they're crafted essays written in English.
Thoughtful, personal, and cross-cultural.
The original text before the correction
- Wandering Bars
Contemporary artist based in the Netherlands. I’ve learned at an Art College and Culinary Institute. I attempt to connect ART and FOOD.
