RO ON SPACE ON THE NOSE – 2

CHERRY BLOSSOMS

When Spring beckons with silver-throated birds, Nature crafts a paintbrush from the soft fibers of wispy clouds. She wets the brush with the sky's joyous tears, and sweeps the landscape with even, flat strokes. Then, she dabs the pointy tip into the colors of the earth and all its muds and silts and soils, to dot the just-moistened landscape. Innocent white petals blush modestly with delicate daubs of rose and fuchsia; some turn mauve and lavender, others peachy salmon, misty yellow and coppery brown.

How else would Cherry Blossoms in Japan come to be?

Beauty in its intensity can be almost unbearable to the eye; in this case, it is apparently unbearable to the Nose – at least for some – when pollen is sprinkled into the air like fairy dust.

And so the Japanese Face Mask comes to be.

Perhaps no other culture knows to draw spatial boundaries around the nose as does Japan’s. Like everything else, the reasons are many-nuanced. Sometimes, they also stem from an innate consciousness etched into the culture from as long as time can remember. It’s the consciousness of a collective society, one with deep respect for another’s olfactory border. Reasons for such consideration for one's companions? A cold, a viral, a flu, a sneeze. All of which teem with more germs than the letters on this page – scrolled down.

In a culture that’s also detail-oriented, perfectionist and conscientious about going to work every day – come rain, shine or cherry blossom – a common cold isn’t reason enough to shirk the necessary responsibility.

And so they don the mask.