That Nostalgic, Wistful Place
By Misa Nakane, freelance writer

My first encounter with Ms. Hitomi Horiuchi took place on an Internet forum. To be honest, I initially had a hard time figuring her out. Her Japanese writing was unique, perhaps due to the fact that she had spent 10 years of her early adulthood in the U.S. Her extreme straightforwardness was so pronounced that it masked her true personality and the intent behind her posts. Then one day she shared with me the lyrics she had written in English, which seemed to very simply express and explain what it was she had been struggling to get across. I felt I finally got in touch with who it is she really is.

My personal favorite is "Where I was yesterday afternoon." When I first read the words, they evoked an indescribable feeling of nostalgia in me (Yeah, I've been there myself...). Every now and then in my dreams, I'd travel to old, familiar places to reunite with faces from the past (or future?), which, upon waking, quickly dissipated into the distant periphery of my memory. But when sung as a song, the profundity and elusiveness of the whole experience snapped me back to reality, which felt liberating and somewhat sensual to me.

Another number, "Suspended & Homebound," which is the title track of the album, is a song about the summer of 2004. That summer I felt completely down, both physically and emotionally. The intense summer heat, followed by a record number of typhoons and devastating earthquakes, made me feel increasingly uneasy and restless. I could easily relate to the unrooted feeling of being cutoff from the source of peace and security, which was troubling me during this time. My virtual confinement to home was also poignantly depicted in the song. The one thing I could not relate to, however, was what she meant by "homebound." Perhaps it was an unfamiliar English word for me, or maybe I just could not relate to her revelation that we were on our way "home" -- that warm, welcoming place we all yearn for so deeply.

Nevertheless, the tunes were very nostalgic, reminding me of American Country/Blues, which I used to listen to over and over. These Country/Blues songs also yearn for "home" or a heaven-like destination and are often sung by people who, in reality, are probably not going anywhere. What really moves me is not naive optimism, but rather the underlying nostalgia held by people who feel either physically or emotionally detached from their permanent settlement while here on earth.

Needless to say, sasara's songs are not nearly as funky or low down as the Blues; they are in fact airy, reminiscent of a breeze blowing into an open, translucent space. Yet, I cannot help but find parallels between the two, as both deal with the same kind of quintessential paradox of human existence.

Most people either long for a place where they can feel they truly belong, or seek to attain a God-like perspective where they can gaze off into the infinity of the universe. Ironically, the meaning of it all, however, is probably most profoundly felt and experienced through our limited 3-D perception as we live and move along linear time. Perhaps the glory of living as finite human beings lies in this ultimate paradox.

To this end, the word "homebound" paradoxically intensifies our equivocal yearning. But the song, when manifested as a voice and a melody, high spiritedly unleashes and embraces these seeming contradictions, celebrating a moment of reunion with ourselves and with others as mortal individuals, as well as with the wholeness and eternity through the sensations of our physical bodies.

That warm, nostalgic place is not elsewhere, but rather right here, right now where the song is being sung. It is like a very fine line between realities, but a powerful place upon which to set our feet.

Translated by H. Horiuchi / edited by Erin Horton
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