I heart neon
Some find calm in the sound of crickets and rustling trees, or crashing waves and the smell of seashells. That's all that very nice for about 24 hours. After that, I get anxious and begin wondering if civilization still exists.
I find comfort in places where there is an average of at least 100 people on a city block at any given hour, the eau de megacities of humid heat reflecting off hot asphault with a splash of trash, and as my brother would say--wattage in neon high enough to power a small country. Having grown up in the Neon Capital of the World, I could compose many Odes to Neon--Neon during the day, dusk, and at all hours of darkness, neon from the car, train, large, small, flashing and making that buzzing sound--but who needs to wax unpoetic. Above is Shinjuku san-chome. Below is Center gai in Shibuya. Both in Tokyo.
Ahh...I can feel my heart rate dropping and breathing settling into a nice meditative pattern.
