On January 1st last year, back when 2011 was as clean a slate of hopes and resolutions as any hours-old year, we took a New Year’s Day walk around our patch of town. A typically beautiful Tokyo winter’s day, baby strapped to the H and camera to me, we ambled about the ku’s of Meguro, Setagaya and Shibuya, pointing out ducks in rivers, stormtroopers in cafes, and splashes of urban beauty on the city’s walls.
There is (surprisingly?) not a huge amount of street art and graffiti in Tokyo – less, at least, than other cities I’ve lived in, but around Nakameguro and Shibuya you can see a fair amount; I’ll post some more street art photos soon, soon.
I am taken aback on a near-daily basis by just how much I miss Tokyo, how homesick I feel. So, this year, I am determined to make new memories, of this still-unknown
place home. To be homewell. January 1st, we took a walk on the beach we are lucky enough to have nearby, the toddler’s red bucket indispensable for shell-gathering and crumbly sandcastle-making. A (new) New Year’s Day tradition, I hope, along with crisp-chewy mochi and steaming mugs of dark hot chocolate on return home.