CHRISSI POLAND

It’s a gorgeous morning in Osaka, as we begin to roll out of town on the high speed train, bound for Tokyo. Mostly cloudy, with the occasional sunbeam slicing through, and mist hovering over the lush green hills in the distance. The tenement houses near the tracks balance out the natural beauty behind them, the dusty architecture of modernism sits next to structures and temples from ages long ago. There’s balance in all the imbalance, the imperfections. It’s wabi sabi at it’s best, the Japanese philosophy of “perfection in the imperfections in nature and life”.

If you ask a Japanese person to explain wabi sabi to you, more often than not you will be told that it cannot be done. There is no direct translation, no words to simplify or define it. Ultimately, it is something that is felt, understood, and lived. To live life with this philosophy would have to channel an extreme sense of contentment and presence. A lesson we Westerners can learn from this ancient culture.

The first show of the 2011 Scissor Sisters tour was a hard hitting two hours of dance-till-you-can’t-dance-no-more party, with a crowd of ferocious fans bearing gifts and accolades for their beloved band of alt-glam rock stars. Feathered head dresses, neon wigs and sparkled sunglasses, glow sticks and Scissor logo cutouts caught my eye as I panned the crowd throughout the set, these things that are a staple for any show. It was good to see them again, lighting up the sea of bobbing heads and waving hands. I looked beyond the crowd to my friends at the light and soundboard, performing just as hard as we are onstage, the silent members of the band who bring the show to life. I looked up into the rafters at the four local crew manning four spotlights, one for each member of the front line, I watched the faces in the front row light up as their favorite songs were played live right before them, felt their joy of the all-mighty rock and roll moment, when whatever problems or issues they may be facing in their own lives were temporarily quelled by the impossible excitement of music, of a show. The power of these things never fails. Seeing it ignite an audience never fails to lift me up, and I feel a little better when I walk off the stage then when I walked onto it.

We’re getting closer to Tokyo now, rushing through towns and business districts, fields and farms, cotton ball clouds strewn about the sky…a sky that stretches from this Far East landscape all the way to New York, where it is full of moon and stars, where my friends are gathering and playing music . And to Scituate, where my family is settled in for the night, where my sweet nephews are tucked peacefully in their beds, under their stick-on moons and planets, their glowstars and nightlights. And I feel totally connected, even though I sit here on the other side of the world. Far in miles, but not so far in heart.

Three more days in the land of wabi sabi, then back to New York to begin a cross country journey with the Sisters, bringing Scissorland into major arenas and small clubs, and looking for the heart in every city, every venue, every new face we see. Beyond the schedule and itinerary, I have no idea what lies ahead, and have no desire to speculate. I do know that I’d like to continue to try to stay “in” every moment, whether it’s glorious, or an absolute shitshow, for this time is going to go by faster than the landscape flying by us on this train. No way to slow it down, so best to be mindful and notice all that is around. It’s not perfect- it’s something far better than perfect could ever be. It’s wabi sabi.