Land Of The Rising Son
3 min read

Crazy Sanity

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Things seem strange in this modern world. Sometimes crazy and sane appear almost interchangeable, though the dictionary would tell us they are not the same.

Layers of hand-drawn imagined landscapes rise from an open sketchbook on a sunlit desk.

It’s a wonder how people following their visions and dreams can seem to disengage from the material world.

A handmade miniature world with a cottage, trees, a bridge and a winding path takes shape on an artist’s worktable.

Perhaps they are building a personal world that reflects their inner reality.

A painted landscape flows out of a small television in a bright living room and merges with the scenery beyond the open window.

One day, that inner world may become part of our shared reality, perhaps on TV, as Hayao Miyazaki has shown by animating his intelligence and bringing it into the Earthly wetware dream.

A transparent glass maze seen from above is crossed by fine chains while a ribbon of amber light winds through it toward an open edge.

More often than not, people seem trapped in the quagmire of the matrix, unable to see the chains that constrain their vision.

Torn paper labels reading CRAZY, ECCENTRIC and ECLECTIC lie on a garden table beside wildflowers growing freely from a clay pot.

Others may seem crazy, eccentric, and eclectic, yet those are just labels the world has attached to these authentic beings.

A single golden thread curves along its own course across a field of pale blue parallel lines.

Perhaps those who live by their own inner volition have achieved a semblance of sanity.

A traveller in a charcoal coat and ochre scarf looks out from a station window over Tokyo’s dense web of railway tracks and trains.

Coming from a sparsely populated land, I found something else crazy when I first arrived in Japan: Tokyo’s labyrinth of trains, weaving in and out of the city, packed with people like sardines. I remember thinking, ‘Wow, this is crazy!’

Commuters stand holding straps in a crowded Japanese train carriage, with a wristwatch in the foreground marking the hours spent travelling.

People jammed into the trains as they went about their daily routines. Some travelled two hours each way—four hours out of the day. ‘No way!’

A paper relief of pale blue gears and looping railway tracks encircles an open, winding path at its centre.

I could hardly believe this was the daily grind for so many commuters. I wondered whether they had ever asked themselves if they had lost their way inside the industrial fray.

A straight paved road and a winding meadow path run on either side of a still lake that mirrors the mountains.

That observation made me question whether outward appearances reveal the life within. Those sent by Seity on an unconventional journey, following their dreams—could they be showing us another meaning of sanity?

A secluded stone cottage and studio, an easel visible through its open door, sits among gardens on a green hillside facing distant mountains.

Some people think you are crazy to live in an isolated place far from the official narrative. Yet many live outside mainstream reality, in worlds shaped by their own dreams.

Translucent ribbons filled with tiny landscapes, music and everyday objects weave together while each keeps its own pattern.

So the point of this reflection is simple: let’s not judge people by what we see on the outside. Everyone is living inside their own storyboard, whether they know it or not.

Four white ceramic theatre masks with different expressions rest on a pale wooden table in a bright studio.

We all wear masks that change with the situation. The one you see is the one a person is wearing at that moment; it may tell you a little about their inner reality.

In a bright mountain meadow, the traveller reaches toward a hand formed of warm light.

If you have explored the depths of your soul by taking Seity’s hand, you may see the world from an entirely different point of view. What others call crazy may be the sanity found deep within.

An antique oval mirror in an empty sunlit room reflects a luminous landscape of branching rivers instead of the room around it.

The crux of the matter—the hook in the nook—is to be crazy about your innermost reality. Perhaps sanity begins when you face the mirror reflecting your inner soul.

A box of old photographs, a worn journal and bundled letters lie open on a reading table in a sunlit library.

For those who long for the good old days, those days are gone and now occupy the annals of history.

Supple bands of translucent coloured glass bend and interlock to form three wide openings filled with light.

Adaptability and flexibility are the key to unlocking the portals as we reconsider what crazy and sane mean.

A toggle switch sits on a workbench beside an archival box holding a miniature old town, with a bright modern skyline beyond the window.

Perhaps this is the moment the system switch flicks and the world we once knew goes into archival mode.

Rigid icy geometric forms give way to flowering fields, rivers and a sunlit horizon.

As a new reality emerges, perhaps those labelled crazy and those who still believe that they live in a world of sanity need to open their hearts to what comes next.

Two interlocking glass sculptures, one smooth and orderly and one freely irregular, mirror each other on a bright reflective surface.

Things are not always what they seem. The supposedly crazy may be sane, and the supposedly sane a little crazy.

Old photographs rest on a stone bench as a sunlit path leads away toward a wide open horizon.

As our world changes, our point of view must change with it. Bid your past a fair adieu.

The traveller, a small figure, walks away along a winding stone road through wildflowers and rolling hills.

No one else can know what has been brewing deep inside your soul. Those who once seemed a little crazy may have stepped through the portal onto an exquisite road towards a new definition of personal sanity.

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