Sometimes, when I have to make a major life decision and find myself paralyzed by indecision, the only way I can move forward is to imagine myself as a josei character. I have to get really into it too: visualizing the black and white lines, the screentones coloring each scene with emotion… The lines and boxed can be slanted, sometimes gone, drifting over each other. Words jump out, sound effects are above reality. A close view on the angles of a man reveal the gaze of a woman in love. There is a setting, sometimes only implied. The background is sometimes the flowers or clouds or darkness of her mood.
And sex is a suggestion: vignette and angles, bodies weightless as if underwater. We'll forget the bed and remember our bodies.
Of course, it’s a josei.
Maybe I’m illustrated with the large features (doe eyes, sensual lips) on thin bodies of Mari Okazaki's design. Maybe I shrink down with Akiko Higashimura’s comical deformation in response some gaffe. That's the only way I can bear it.
My life could take on the approachable simplicity of Tomoko Ninomiya's style--I'm just another one of her awkward female leads, aren't I?
Oh, maybe the artful melancholy of Chica Umino colors everything around me. I miss art school--why is all love unrequited? I already know I will cry next month. I cry whenever I listen to Suneohair.
Or maybe life is ornate and slightly naughty a la Moyoco Anno. it's true that I can't stop listening to Hatsukoi Shoujo. Maybe Shiina is the soundtrack that triggers this style change. Or maybe my soundtrack if modernist classical piano to accent Kiriko Nananan's lonely sparseness…
I swear, my life choices are influenced by whoever’s style I envision. I blame Yayoi Ogawa for all prior hoedom, but I think I'm settling into a nice hardworking pace where life is good enough for the pop and cute of Youko Nemu. 🏵🌸🏵