We had all been looking forward to going to the Ghibli Museum, Dan had got the tickets at an inflated price as they were all sold out, and we had to go and pick them up from a strange flat where I nearly got locked in the toilet. Because of all this, and also because we all love the Ghibli films so much, it was to be an important day out.
We walked through Inokashira Park to get there, which was really nice- we saw a great temple and also managed to see a Kingfisher which was being photographed by a man with a telephoto lens as if it were some kind of celebrity. We also saw more carp, their mouths coming right out of the water. Flo also nearly got run over by an old man on a bicycle- he could clearly see her but sort of ran into her on purpose which was a bit strange, perhaps it was something to do with respecting your elders but Flo couldn't have really moved out the way due to the size of the path. Perhaps he was just a git.
I think we were all a bit grumpy really, which is strange because we were also excited- perhaps the pressure of getting there at the exact time (they are very strict about when you get there as they have designated slots, and they only let 100 people in at a time) affected us, or maybe being together constantly just makes you a bit pissy, whatever it was we managed to get there early and then found the best cafe in the world (I feel I have been overusing this phrase a little on the blog- I can't help it) to wait in.
It was a bird cafe and had cockatiels flying about in the window. All the food was shaped like birds, look:
It was basically the perfect cafe to go to before going into Ghibli world. But it was soon time to go and see the main attraction- which you weren't allowed to take photos at. It was sort of a relief to be honest- it's nice to just experience things without needing to archive them some way, and it seemed important to just enjoy the museum for what it is, and to be fully involved.
Well, that's what happened. I can't really describe what it was like walking into the magical building, everything is so beautiful- every fitting and lampshade and window has been thought about, it is like walking into a Ghibli film really.
Then into one of the permanent exhibition rooms 'The beginning of movement'. I had a very weird reaction to it in the form of bursting into tears, not uncommon for me really as I tend to cry at pretty much everything, but I was very affected by the brilliance of the exhibits, and couldn't stop crying the whole way round. The things which affected me most were the two zoetropes, one of the robot from Castle in the sky, which was spinning around with his arms lifted up and birds were flying up and around him like he was a magician (it was something to do with the angle of his arms really, I know that sounds a bit abstract), and also the Totoro 3D zoetrope which had characters from all the films also spinning around and jumping and dancing. They were both incredible, and you got the feeling that the people who had made them really wanted you to understand about the ingenuity and possibility that the museum represents- in every new room we come to there was something more magical than the last:
The good thing is that it has been designed with children in mind, there are tiny staircases that adults just have to deal with, and a maze and secret nooks and crannies for kids to hide in, but more than that, it has been made to inspire you- you really do feel as if you can do anything when you come out- that you should spend your life making magical things for other people to enjoy. Miyazaki seems to be a master of so many art forms, painting, animation, model making, a glance at a reconstruction of his office and also his actual scrap books shows you that he has spent his life improving on what he does, whether it is through reading or sketching or collecting shells and books on architecture.
I suppose the truth is that we can all work harder. I have spent the last six months writing my book, copies of which I found waiting for me when I got home from Japan- and this seems like a feat to me, an achievement of some kind. The difference is that this guy would have illustrated every page, and made a short film of every poem, probably in the same time. I wonder if he ever feels a sense of achievement, or if that even drives him? Making other people feel wonder is the real prize. If I can do this with even one poem I'll be happy, but I have a lot of work to do.
I have thought a lot about why I cried that day, it seems a little over dramatic or something (I think Flo was very confused by it) but Dan said he also found himself crying and I think I can guess the reason. Walking in to the museum is a lot like walking back into your childhood, where most of the stuff is good and pure, if you're lucky. If you ever had a dream about a magical world when you were little then this is basically it, even down to the cafe which has massive strawberry cakes and smiley waitresses.
It is a reminder that there are lots of brilliant things in the world still to learn and to work at. The whole of the Japan trip felt a little like this- it might sound a bit life-changing experience but it's true. Losing my Mum this year was such a difficult thing, I still think about her every day. But Japan was a wake up call as it is a place where everything is full of hope. We're so lucky to have gone.