The sky hangs dusky beyond the leaves which hang above my neighborhood shrine in Nakano, Tokyo. Clouds loom wide and pale in the night sky like a thin blanket; I can’t wait to show the shrine to you. It holds my memories.

I pass through and bow to the two statues, which I call the travelers. I imagine them like the ancestors in the animated Mulan, alive inside and talking to each other, rooting me on as I ask for guidance.

I’m noticing stores I want to visit with you. There’s a small coffee and tea shop decorated for Halloween. I feel the seasons changing in my heart and soul. I can’t believe it’s happening.

I have a partner to explore the country that will always occupy a special place in my heart. And it’s not just anyone. It’s you. Cocobean. I imagine roaming the sleepy backstreets of Kyoto in the cold, early December, perhaps.

I look forward to just sitting with you on the train, your head on my shoulder and hand in mine as we return from a weekend excursion, snacks in tow. It won’t all be butterflies and rainbows, of course. It’ll be real. It’ll be life.

And we get to do it together. I finally have somebody to laugh with at the t-shirts with English phrases that make no sense, yet lift my spirits when I need them. I got somebody to share in my reverence for onigiri. What an adventure we’re on — what a life we get to live.

Today was a wild day. They happen every so often, when many little moments alight like stars in a constellation. These things can’t be by chance. They mean something, and I think most people just don’t believe they do. I know they do.

I fell into an awesome little store today where everything was handmade by the owner, an artist. The clothes were screen printed; the jewelry was unique, and it all just worked and it made me believe you can just do things. You can just make your art, and that makes you are an artist.

People respect that, because they want it, but it seems like a sort of unattainable thing. It hit me pretty hard today. We’re on our path. We’re fucking doing it. She asked if I made the hoodie I was wearing.

I was telling her about you, that you’d love this store and that you’re coming in a few weeks. She asked if you’re an artist, and I said yes. She crochets these awesome hoods. We are the same as this woman, Ann. It lit her up that I was in there, genuinely psyched on her stuff. It feels like this is why we’re here.

Alive.

I want to create my stuff. I want an adventure. That’s really it; I don’t really care what it is as long as it’s with you. Even thinking about Wisconsin or Sante Fe, these places excite me, too. They’re different and so beautiful. I want to create with you, learn with you, and just go for it. There’s really nothing to lose.