the art show was successfully done, i think. there are some music and dance performances which were totally "art". and it was packed!
it runs till april 26th, 2009 at shojin, so please come back and peruse our art!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
on Dec. 6th 2008, a women hit my car while i parked. luckly, the person who hit left a note, but then the nightmare has been began.
since my car was not drivable, i asked tow and leave my car at spectrum collision center, which BMW dealer told me to take. they asked me a lots of signatures and initials on their contract(like it said "even if they broke a glass while fixing, they don't pay anything", "strage fee is $50 per day." and brah brah brah)....i didn't want to put my initials, but you know how it is.....if i didn't, they dont start working on.
and it was so wierd that they told me to call MY insurace to take care of this case. i should have noticed that they were ripping off.
the first estimate was around $4,000.
however, after they talked my insurance(at that time already they had taken two months to just make an estimate), it raised up $11,000-, even thought my insurance's estimate was only $2,300-. i know my insurance's estimate was too law but...$11,000!?!?! you can buy a new car instead.
because of the $50(per day) strage fee, i couldn't cancel and ask another body shop. the parking fee was already over $3000.
fortunally, after a month my insurace deceided to pay $12,000-, and spectrum collision agreed with it.
today, finally i got my car back. (almost three months nightmare has been done.) it was nicely done but i couldnt be so happy because of what they did to me. and one more thing that i am worried bout is the final receipt was over $16,000- even thought i paid only $12,000!.....i don't even wanna know why and what's for....
i was so tired of calling my insrance company and body shop. the experience was totally nightmare....i wont take my car to dealers and spectrum collision center again.
.....or, i hope any kind of accident wouldnt happen again.
場所 11:48 PM
Thursday, February 19, 2009
i am joining the cafemode as an artist:)
the opening will be held on 26th, feb. come to see me!
333 S. Alameda St., Suite 310 (3rd Floor) Los Angeles, CA 90013
|©2009 Aya Niibo||©2009 Aya Niibo|
*THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU BEING THERE !
and making this show a success!
Please come back and peruse the art which will run until APRIL 26, 2009
333 S. Alameda Street., Suite 310 (3rd FL), Los Angeles, 90013
場所 8:59 PM
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I have come to Jerusalem today as a novelist, which is to say as a professional spinner of lies.
Of course, novelists are not the only ones who tell lies. Politicians do it, too, as we all know. Diplomats and military men tell their own kinds of lies on occasion, as do used car salesmen, butchers and builders. The lies of novelists differ from others, however, in that no one criticizes the novelist as immoral for telling them. Indeed, the bigger and better his lies and the more ingeniously he creates them, the more he is likely to be praised by the public and the critics. Why should that be?
My answer would be this: Namely, that by telling skillful lies - which is to say, by making up fictions that appear to be true - the novelist can bring a truth out to a new location and shine a new light on it. In most cases, it is virtually impossible to grasp a truth in its original form and depict it accurately. This is why we try to grab its tail by luring the truth from its hiding place, transferring it to a fictional location, and replacing it with a fictional form. In order to accomplish this, however, we first have to clarify where the truth lies within us. This is an important qualification for making up good lies.
Today, however, I have no intention of lying. I will try to be as honest as I can. There are a few days in the year when I do not engage in telling lies, and today happens to be one of them.
So let me tell you the truth. A fair number of people advised me not to come here to accept the Jerusalem Prize. Some even warned me they would instigate a boycott of my books if I came.
The reason for this, of course, was the fierce battle that was raging in Gaza. The UN reported that more than a thousand people had lost their lives in the blockaded Gaza City, many of them unarmed citizens - children and old people.
Any number of times after receiving notice of the award, I asked myself whether traveling to Israel at a time like this and accepting a literary prize was the proper thing to do, whether this would create the impression that I supported one side in the conflict, that I endorsed the policies of a nation that chose to unleash its overwhelming military power. This is an impression, of course, that I would not wish to give. I do not approve of any war, and I do not support any nation. Neither, of course, do I wish to see my books subjected to a boycott.
Finally, however, after careful consideration, I made up my mind to come here. One reason for my decision was that all too many people advised me not to do it. Perhaps, like many other novelists, I tend to do the exact opposite of what I am told. If people are telling me - and especially if they are warning me - "don't go there," "don't do that," I tend to want to "go there" and "do that." It's in my nature, you might say, as a novelist. Novelists are a special breed. They cannot genuinely trust anything they have not seen with their own eyes or touched with their own hands.
And that is why I am here. I chose to come here rather than stay away. I chose to see for myself rather than not to see. I chose to speak to you rather than to say nothing.
This is not to say that I am here to deliver a political message. To make judgments about right and wrong is one of the novelist's most important duties, of course.
It is left to each writer, however, to decide upon the form in which he or she will convey those judgments to others. I myself prefer to transform them into stories - stories that tend toward the surreal. Which is why I do not intend to stand before you today delivering a direct political message.
Please do, however, allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is something that I always keep in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper and paste it to the wall: Rather, it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something like this:
"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg."
Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will stand with the egg. Someone else will have to decide what is right and what is wrong; perhaps time or history will decide. If there were a novelist who, for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the wall, of what value would such works be?
What is the meaning of this metaphor? In some cases, it is all too simple and clear. Bombers and tanks and rockets and white phosphorus shells are that high, solid wall. The eggs are the unarmed civilians who are crushed and burned and shot by them. This is one meaning of the metaphor.
This is not all, though. It carries a deeper meaning. Think of it this way. Each of us is, more or less, an egg. Each of us is a unique, irreplaceable soul enclosed in a fragile shell. This is true of me, and it is true of each of you. And each of us, to a greater or lesser degree, is confronting a high, solid wall. The wall has a name: It is The System. The System is supposed to protect us, but sometimes it takes on a life of its own, and then it begins to kill us and cause us to kill others - coldly, efficiently, systematically.
I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the unique dignity of the individual soul to the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a story is to sound an alarm, to keep a light trained on The System in order to prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and demeaning them. I fully believe it is the novelist's job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness of each individual soul by writing stories - stories of life and death, stories of love, stories that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter. This is why we go on, day after day, concocting fictions with utter seriousness.
My father died last year at the age of 90. He was a retired teacher and a part-time Buddhist priest. When he was in graduate school, he was drafted into the army and sent to fight in China. As a child born after the war, I used to see him every morning before breakfast offering up long, deeply-felt prayers at the Buddhist altar in our house. One time I asked him why he did this, and he told me he was praying for the people who had died in the war.
He was praying for all the people who died, he said, both ally and enemy alike. Staring at his back as he knelt at the altar, I seemed to feel the shadow of death hovering around him.
My father died, and with him he took his memories, memories that I can never know. But the presence of death that lurked about him remains in my own memory. It is one of the few things I carry on from him, and one of the most important.
I have only one thing I hope to convey to you today. We are all human beings, individuals transcending nationality and race and religion, fragile eggs faced with a solid wall called The System. To all appearances, we have no hope of winning. The wall is too high, too strong - and too cold. If we have any hope of victory at all, it will have to come from our believing in the utter uniqueness and irreplaceability of our own and others' souls and from the warmth we gain by joining souls together.
Take a moment to think about this. Each of us possesses a tangible, living soul. The System has no such thing. We must not allow The System to exploit us. We must not allow The System to take on a life of its own. The System did not make us: We made The System.
That is all I have to say to you.
I am grateful to have been awarded the Jerusalem Prize. I am grateful that my books are being read by people in many parts of the world. And I am glad to have had the opportunity to speak to you here today.
japanese translation is here
場所 4:40 PM
Monday, February 09, 2009
Wo Ye !High FanO Xing Ren - jamais jamais
japanese ppl, expecially girls love talking about blood type horoscopes. they believe that they can tell person’s personality by their blood type like below,
Best traits Earnest, creative, sensible
Worst traits Fastidious, overearnest
Best traits Wild, active, doer
Worst traits Selfish, irresponsible
Best traits Cool, controlled, rational
Worst traits Critical, indecisive
Best traits Agreeable, sociable, optimistic
Worst traits Vain, rude
i personally don't believe the blood type horoscopes(probably not that many japanese ppl believe either.), i don't think there are only 4types of ppl, and it's not a scientific-basis material at all. but i don't hate the topic, it's just fun to talk bout.
even if japanese ppl ask your blood type and you feel uncomfortable, plz don't be mean to them:). the blood type horoscopes is just one of their favorite topic, so...
場所 1:29 PM
Thursday, February 05, 2009
luckly, i got two chances to go restaurant at millennium biltomore today.
lunch... my boss treated all the corworkers to celebrate finish of one project. we had a seafood buffet for $22 at SMERALDI'S. it was real goooood. i loved the pasta which you can put any seafood from the seafood buffet. i think $22 is very reasonable. i wanna take sho to here:)
dinner... i was pretty full since i ate a lot at smeralidi's...but my friends, megumi and aya came over from japan so i wanted to take them to watergrill which yuka said the best taste restaurant in all the dineLA restaurant. as she told me, it WAS tasty. (lunch is probably better because you can eat the exactly same dishes for $20 chaper) and the atmosphere is great.
i have to be on diet from tomorrow:(
btw, everytime megumi come, it rains very hard. the forcast was saying thursday was "shower likely" but it turned into rainning all this week. last time she came, she brought one of the worst rain in 100years....omg. that sucks.
場所 11:45 PM
Sunday, February 01, 2009
i don't really care what i eat, but my corworkers and my bf do. they are telling me where is the best place to go eat, all the recipes, and any other food stuff.
dine LA was one of their topic these days. they said they have gone some restaurant already. since everybody are talking bout dineLA, i became i want to go at least one. one of my friend came over here to LA from San Diego, so we went.
i called my corworker to ask the best place to go. she told me:
GLADSTONE’S OF MALIBU
17300 Pacific Coast Hwy.
Pacific Palisades, CA 90272
$26- for their foods(and probably where it locates too) is real cheap, she said.
my friends ordered $26 dineLA course. but i ordered the Lobstar plate for $65.50- by mistake:X...but they gave me the chowdar and desert for free!!!:0 so i am pretty much satisfied with the restaurant. the chowdar was real good. i think it was the best chowder i ever had.
here is the dineLA menu:
and the services are nice too. how they give you your left over is real unique.(i got a whale which made of hoil)
thank for telling me about dineLA and gladstones, yuka.
場所 9:30 PM