Random Thoughts At Nanbentei

I just had dinner with my cousin-in-law (CIL) tonight in one of the older Japanese restos, and one of the fewer ones that make mean Yakitori. It's called Nanbantei. When I used to work for this century-old English bank (yes, I used to work in cubesville!), I enjoyed making dinner bookings for my boss. This was one of his favorite spots for visiting foreign bosses who fly in for meetings.

About Mothers-In-Law

Over dinner, I blabbled about my week to my CIL starting with yesterday, when I made my trip to a second premier designer. I casually mentioned to the fashion guru that the meeting is still non-commital as I still prefer to consult with my future mother-in-law (and my fiance, of course) before any final decisions.

He laughed in a knowing way and tone, and said "Oooh, yes. What is your mother-in-law like?"

"As a matter of fact, she's alright. I can have nice and normal conversations with her, really." I added, "Friends used to scare me in the past when they said beware of a mother-in-law who might want you to wear a gown that looks like a fondant cake, or a doily."

Then I mused aloud, "Fortunately, she has discerning taste, I must say."

(Thanks, God!)

His eyes brightened up and said, "Wow, you're lucky. Many of the brides who are my clients don't get along at all with their mother-in-law."

I smiled, and said "It's one of the blessings in life, I guess." And I am grateful.

About Evolving Careers

As our 21-pieces of Yakitori arrived, we started talking about media. My CIL is head of this country's top special effects and post-production companies so I get a great load of insight about art-related topics. I told him I really don't see myself holding a brush and facing a canvas all day long for the rest of my life. I don't like the fact that I'll be so isolated, not see anyone while I work.

"I'll go bonkers!", I whined.

He said, "Worse. You'll have angst!"

I agree.

I like how he's able to see the multi-faceted potential of my art and how I'm able to put it together. He blurted, "Why not take courses, work part time as a painter, and be a legit curator? You have a sense of space, harmony and art. You can take photos and your writing reflects your critique. I think you'll be good for that. It's a possibility you might wanna explore."

That's definitely something new. And I found the new discipline very appealing, I must say.

I asked, "Hello, I have lack of perspective in my art! How does that work?"

He said, "Your lack of perspective is your art. And that is your style."

Then an idea popped in my head, "Do you think I can ever translate my art into something moving on film?"

Without batting an eyelash, he said "Yup."

About Creativity And Wedding Plans

While I took turns simultaneously munching between sweet Japanese corn and Roasted Onigiri, we started talking about the wedding preparations and our progress. Various professionals have complimented how efficient we've been in putting things together from scratch within a short period of time, how we were able to get the suppliers we want and how the elements of the wedding are unified tastefully.

I realized it would be such a let-down and it won't do justice to my capacity as an artist to hire someone else to conceptualize and execute a design and flair that is not mine or my fiance's. I'm quite fortunate to have a fiance who has an equally discriminating taste but appreciates mine (yes!). We also work well as a team in coordinating with our suppliers and collating information while designating who calls and deals with which supplier.

As I was capping our meal with some refreshing Coffee Jelly, I remembered something my fiance said, "You are lucky you're very creative because you have your own style. You can imagine it and you know how to make it happen."

I reflected on that and realized I was given another reason to be grateful.

The rest of this evening was spent laughing about traveling to rural areas, washing underwear on top of a cold mountain, dissing the new fancy places around the city that is all form but no substance, trying to understand the stereotypical angsty artist, and how I'm going to stuff the 5-kilo iron sculpture Pete gave me in my luggage when I make my way to NY.

Soon.