This is a postcard of a piece called Dream of Winter that I saw in Nagoya in the year 2000 by Higuchi Hiroshi.
Japan has great art, but there is something thwarting it. I see this through "Orientalist" eyes, as it is not a scene of intrinsic contemporary interest to most Japanese. In a way, my witness was the loss of that ancient culture to be replaced with MacArthur's vision of a working democracy. It left too many 'coin locker babies," though, abandoned at the train stations that mark Japan today. The temples today are strangely devoid of life, even if tribute continues to pore in from observant Buddhists. The Japanese predominantly have many religious and spiritual identities, unless they are Christians. Each serves a different function at a separate stage in life.
I most loved the snowbound quiet of the temples in mid winter.