Yumi Miyagishima « Yuri Kageyama

People Who Know Pain

Reading with violinist Yumi Miyagishima at What the Dickens in Tokyo.
The Japanese use the expression “hitono itami wo wakaru/shiru” often, which means “knowing people’s pain.”
It’s part of being a conformist society that the quality of being able to understand how others feel is valued.
But often this becomes another way of making people feel small and unaccepted because it’s a way to define what’s correct/not correct in a very narrow way.
I wrote this thinking partly about that, but also about the poem by Kenji Miyazawa about that character whom no one would see as a hero _ in Japan or the U.S. _ who is never after societal recognition, carrying on always _ rain or shine _ but the way Miyazawa put it in those memorable first lines: “undefeated neither by rain nor wind …” Miyazawa is one of Japan’s biggest literery figures. But as with many works in Japanese, English translations don’t/can’t do justice to his greatness.

People Who Know Pain

The World is divided bet-
Ween two kinds of People
The Winners and the Losers
The Takers and the Givers
The Famous and the Forgotten
The Loved and the Unloved _
Those who don’t care and

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

when your tongue rolls, the
tips of my nipples, piercing
knife of betrayal

Vincent Van Gogh
John Coltrane
Garcia Marquez
Toulouse Lautrec
Billie Holliday
Richard Wright
Kenji Miyazawa

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

baby foxes dance,
leaving paw marks in the snow,
fairy tale of joy

Hermit, victim,
Outcast, untouched,
Untouchable
They travel faceless
Shadows on the subway
Mute, unconnected,
Unknowing of their own Pain

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

bitter memories grow
a cancer pomegranate
bleeding and rotting

I’d rather shelter that Pain alone
A powerless nobody,
Ashamed, shunned,
Stench of insignificance,
Laughing the idiot’s laugh,
Running forgotten errands,
Dying before living like other

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

a zillion light years
the planet pulsates timeless
soundless universe

I’d never be that superior someone who
Conquers, fornicates, lynches,
Deposits paychecks, plans careers,
Forms opinions, writes reviews,
Weighs pros and cons, wins awards,
Attends receptions, discriminates,
Never knowing, shrugging off, how painful

People’s Pain can be
People’s Pain can be

People Who Know Pain

Recorded with Yumi Miyagishima on violin at Music Man studio in Tokyo, May 24, 2008.
Part of the TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN poetry readings with music.
Yumi Miyagishima, or Shima, is one of my favorite Tokyo musicians and one of my favorite people.
I wrote this poem inspired by the kind of things she talks about because she is so filled with a free spirit, the sense of justice, the love for music _ and a total disregard for practicality, status, “common sense” and material wealth that makes her really delightful.
It is difficult living in this vicious, greedy and insane world that Tokyo has become _ especially for a Japanese woman.
Tokyo on the surface looks like any big modern city.
You’d think women will get equal treament.
Think again.
Women are being treated like second, third, class citizens, and live and work fighting for their jobs, safety, self-respect, right to be creative as though this is right in the Third World.
It makes it even sadder that all women like Shima want is genuine love.
And they must seek it from men, the very pepetrators, for the most part, of the discrimination, cruelty and degradation that hurt and brutalize women.
Women who want nothing more than the fulfillment of their simple dreams are vulnerable.
But Shima grows stronger day by day, year by year.
Here she is, still playing music in Tokyo, and she even has a nice boyfriend:

People Who Know Pain

The World is divided bet-
Ween two kinds of People
The Winners and the Losers
The Takers and the Givers
The Famous and the Forgotten
The Loved and the Unloved _
Those who don’t care and

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

when your tongue rolls, the
tips of my nipples, piercing
knife of betrayal

Vincent Van Gogh
John Coltrane
Garcia Marquez
Toulouse Lautrec
Billie Holliday
Richard Wright
Kenji Miyazawa

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

baby foxes dance,
leaving paw marks in the snow,
fairy tale of joy

Hermit, victim,
Outcast, untouched,
Untouchable
They travel faceless
Shadows on the subway
Mute, unconnected,
Unknowing of their own Pain

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

bitter memories grow
a cancer pomegranate
bleeding and rotting

I’d rather shelter that Pain alone
A powerless nobody,
Ashamed, shunned,
Stench of insignificance,
Laughing the idiot’s laugh,
Running forgotten errands,
Dying before living like other

People who know Pain
People who know Pain

a zillion light years
the planet pulsates timeless
soundless universe

People’s Pain can be
People’s Pain can be

Shima 3

Another photo.

Shima 2

Violinist Yumi Miyagishima (Shima)

This is a bit of a late entry but I spent Christmas at a small pub in Mitaka, where Shima played violin with a singer, pianist, bassist, guitarist and percussionist.
Tokyo is a haven/heaven for young musicians.
Instead of parties, people get together to listen to music for their souls’ “iyashi.” (The repertoire that night was a collage of sing/clap-alongs _ “Jingle Bells,” “Sunny,” Japanese pop, etc.)
Shima has always said she wants to play music.
Knowing What you Want is important in Life.
And never giving up/never compromising: It’s easier said than done.
Although we may never achieve the heights of our craft we see as Ideal, we can keep going, day by day, (staying True to What We have Decided is our Life) and we go listen to Music in Mitaka to gain courage/strength/purity to go on for the next day.

Shima’s violin

Shima (short for Yumi Miyagishima) already knows what life is all about: She was born to play the violin. She knows this. That discovery, that conviction, that vision. When she plays _ sometimes in a deafening cavernous live-house, filled with throat-scratching smoke mixing with the laughter of other young people like her, dancing, talking, being themselves; sometimes in an organic-food restaurant, wafting faraway sounds like the harmonium and the Chilean flute and the smell of curry and memories of hippie dreams from the 60s_ her violin wails with the determined cries of a thousand women, all choosing to live for what they believe in, taking a stand. Bring out the violins _ people don’t say that for no reason. The weeping violin makes me feel all the love I have for her, and for Women Artists, that I have to fight to hold back my tears. When I tell her this, she laughs and suggests humbly her playing may be so sad? Watching you brings me only joy and pride. So many people take the easy way out _ get a job, get married, look for money, seek status. But you stand. And play the violin. Because that’s what you were born on earth to do. She told me once: “Today was a good day. I got up, I had a nice brunch, and I played the violin.” She is also very wise. I ask her, worried: “What’s going to happen when we just grow older and older?” “Don’t worry about it. You just enter a different stage in life,” is her reply, delivered as a fact, in her trademark carefree, free-spirit, oh, so spiritual shrug. And I believe her.