Its damn hot in Tokyo today. Long weekend, Sunday already slipping by fast, and as the sun starts to set, I head downstairs for the relatively cool garage and set myself to work. The ipod blazes away as I get into the rhythm and let myself dissolve into the technique, avoiding thoughts of the copious amounts of sweat that starts coursing down my body.
Ah… nothing like it, but right now it still comes across as a form of punishment.
One word rattles around in my mind- consistency.