Karuizawa, being a mountain town, is cloudy and mist-shrouded at the best of times, so a sightseeing visit during Japan's rainy season would normally not be a good choice. We had all been advised to pack our rain gear before we came out, and in truth, the surrounding area was almost devoid of people. No one comes here in June; it just isn't smart.

The view from the hotel restaurant. Yes, really.

Thanks to global warming, however, the rainy season's been a little unpredictable over the last few years, and as the photos in the previous entry show, we lucked out, weatherwise. But we did catch the edge of a passing typhoon while we were out touring pagodas.

Rain, fog or shine, pagodas always look great.

Longtime readers will remember what always follows a typhoon in Japan. That's right—sunshine! Clear skies as far as the eye can see!

Taking advantage of our good fortune, we headed off to Mt. Asama, the active volcano that graces the Karuizawa skyline.

It's no Fuji, but the red crest is still pretty striking.

Our destination was Onioshidashi, a temple built on the site of a catastrophic eruption in 1783. The lava flow solidified into a carpet of jagged rocks that now serves as a forbiddingly beautiful backdrop to this peaceful place of worship.

I assume my love for ishidoro needs no further elaboration.

Roughly translated, Onioshidashi means "Demonic outburst." It's kinda cool to visit a temple with "demon" right in the name.

Finally, we were off to Shiraito Cascade, a lush waterfall with a quirk that my brother gets credit for noticing—the water comes out of nowhere! It's true. Mountain springs push their way right through the porous volcanic rock, creating wide sheets of water that emerge from the forest walls.

In Japanese, it's known as the "silk thread falls." Thanks for the lovely weather, typhoon-san!

Folks, I'll level with you. My workload, due to increasing numbers of private students and my erratic Nova schedule, is going to get worse before it gets better. The long, descriptive entries I used to churn out from time to time may be a thing of the past. (A photo-intensive entry like "Todai-ji: The Great Eastern Temple" takes four or five hours to put together, and I can even remember a few lengthy posts that took me more than a day to finish.) I just don't have the time anymore. I've got a ton of great new pictures to upload, and while nothing would make me happier than a essay of meandering observations to go along with them, I'm stuck with short, pithy captions.

Hopefully my pictures are worth a thousand words and all, but still. I feel bad about it. I like writing.

So, Karuizawa. It's a magnificent mountain town that remains much cooler in the summertime than sauna-like Tokyo, despite being only an hour's Shinkansen ride away. Only the wealthy can afford to build summer homes here, but the scenery is open to anyone who springs for the train ticket and a taxi. My family and I were here because my dad had a business meeting at the Karuizawa Prince Hotel, and he generously brought us along. He unfortunately missed out on every bit of sightseeing, as he was in conference rooms the whole time, but he's used to that.

Though our tour took us through opulent hotel grounds, museums, castles, art galleries, more museums (my mom loves museums), traditional restaurants and golf courses, I only took shots of the scenery. I don't like documenting things just for the sake of documenting things, y'know? If it doesn't look like it'd make a neat postcard, I generally can't be bothered.

The highlight of the whole trip was probably the first place we went. The cab driver gets the credit for this one—he suggested the spot himself. Based on this experience, I'll probably start letting taxi drivers call the shots more often.

It's called Nunobiki Kannon Temple, and the next time someone asks me if I've ever been to an honest-to-god hidden temple built into the side of a mountain, I can say yes.

I have no idea why, but Kannon seems to get all the coolest temples.

I'll pause here to let the awe sink in.

All done? Good, 'cause we've got some climbing to do.

I can't imagine how long it must've taken to carve the tunnels that weave through these cliffs. Statues peek out at you from everywhere—I found a three-inch-tall icon in a crevice, and this Buddha greeted me inside one of the passageways.

Once you emerge from the darkness, this is the view that awaits you.

As I expected, my family was far too jetlagged for more than an hour or two of sightseeing. Taking advantage of the almost supernaturally good weather, I took them yesterday to Meiji-jingu, the famous shrine, park and flower garden nestled into the heart of the city.

This, plus a few minutes spent wandering the eye-popping streets of nearby fashion capital Harajuku, was enough for one day. Hopefully they'll be recovered in time for Sunday's three-day excursion to Karuizawa.

They're on their own now, as it's Thursday and I have to get back to work. But if anyone wanted to know what my brother looks like, he looks like this:

Eric, on an uncharacteristically sunny day

While I'm busy scrubbing my bathroom in preparation for my parents' imminent arrival, I invite you to read this piece from Metropolis, Japan's largest English-language weekly magazine. It's a profile of three gaijin filmmakers who've each chosen Tokyo as their base of operations, and sheds some light on what life could be like for me if I stayed here.

Unsuccessful and tired, if this article is any indication. I've never even remotely considered pursuing a career in Tokyo, but at least now I know for sure. Japan barely has room for two or three successful filmmakers of its own—it certainly can't support a bunch of foreigners making documentaries about their ex-husbands.

Oh well. More on this subject, plus possibly photos of wherever my folks decide to take me, next week.

The stay/go debate is running close to a dead heat—about 3 to 4, if you count the personal e-mails I've received. I kind of expected this. It's actually a bit of a relief, the notion that this dilemma isn't just in my head.

If I'm to draw any conclusion at all from your advice, it's that, whatever I do, it had better be for the right reasons. If I do leave, it should be because I'm ready to take the plunge and live the life of the starving artist in New York City: the odd hours, the relentless self-promotion, the uncertainty. Not because I have a crappy job, or because I can't speak the language here.

And if I stay, it should be because I love it here, because I haven't run out of new things to do, cool places to go or strange foods to try; and because while I can't really get into the film industry here, I can still do animation, video and/or screenwriting. But it shouldn't be because I'm afraid of failing in another city.

At the moment, I have the luxury of procrastination. My parents are visiting me in two weeks, and most of my mental energy is earmarked for tidying my apartment and planning tours. So I'm not going to be making any snap decisions.

I have a lot to think about this month, and a lot of research to do. But I'll figure this out.

When I do, you'll know.