Tokyo Drifting: I

Losing myself in my own summer daydreams

By Thomas Feng

April 2^nd, 2016

A summer day

Eight and a half months have passed and I have yearned many times to be back in Tokyo. I stayed in the bustling Ginza where on weekends, they close the main streets for pedestrians to roam free. I recall the shock I felt the first time I saw this, it seemed almost futuristic to me to see a vast outdoor urban space filled with people without any sign of motorised vehicles. People were sitting on tables & chairs in the middle of the road whilst shoppers held parasols to shield themselves from the heat.

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I was on my way to the hills of Daikanyama, a creative burrough within the Tokyo metropolis but I stopped over in Shibuya: a busy shopping and eating district filled with young people and home to one the busiest train stations in the world. Each day, four million people pass through Shibuya station. That is the population of Melbourne every single day in a single train station which seems absolutely unfathomable to me. It’s also home to the famous Scramble Crossing (below), the world’s busiest intersection, with people crossing seven different directions. I’m in absolute awe of the beautiful bustling functionality of Japan’s infrastructure.

I was in Daikanyama to find a bookstore. As I searched over and around the hills, I saw little boutiques selling lovely kitsch items and found hidden cafes with cosy home-like fittings similar to Melbourne but with a creative Japanese spin. Everywhere I looked, everything seemed to have that extra Japanese special mindfulness and care to it. I became lost in my own whimsical world where I was surrounded by pastel colours and printed objects with artistic people who used clothing as a form of expression.

the bookstore

Tsutaya Books is the equivalent of what used to be Borders in Australia - CDs, DVDs, magazines, photography, art and books in the one store. The Daikanyama store was special because it was your own special private library; it was not too big because that would make it seem like an ugly department store, nor was it too small which allowed you to become lost in a turn of a endless corners. The bright sun shone through the open glass windows of the store which was perfect for browsing a light magazine; but as you explored deeper within the labyrinth, the sun gave way to a moody, dim glow which begged for you to spend some quality time and love exploring each title on the shelf.

I found a book on some photography of impressive Japanese interiors and a zine dedicated to film photography to quietly peruse through in a spot between the art and magazine sections after buying a cup of matcha tea. This was a dream come true, being able to spend hours in my own pretend-private library; there was nobody around except me, myself and I.

It was a blur. I was a blur. I was seemingly astray in a daydream somehow posing as real life and I know that when I return I’ll see the part of me which decided it wanted to fade into those shelves forever; the part of me that will forever give that special love to anyone and anything beautiful.