關於 japan junior college ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

Connected Television Show 的訪問終於推出了~
很感謝他們的邀請~ > < ~

呀~ 很久也沒有寫過這麼多英文了...
要一個英語成績不合格的人去接受訪問,
這已經是我的極限了~ (吐血)
Grammar和串字都錯很大, 還請多多包涵... orz

照片也異常難選擇呢,
有很多照片都想放進去 > <
然後發現...
有很多照片還沒修... Q A Q
(對不起各位攝大大)

再次感謝各位的拍攝及幫助~
才能有這麼好的照片~ //////A//////
(包括有或沒有寫下名字的大家~)
感謝~ >3< ~

CONNECTED COSPLAY: SPOTLIGHTING COSPLAYERS WITH TALENT FROM AROUND THE WORLD! From
Q & A
Name: Arbee
Location: Hong Kong
Occupation: Video Editor, Assistant Producer
Website: https://www.facebook.com/arbeecos
Credits:
Photographers - (Auto Cosphoto, Henry's Cosplay Photo, 白白 Photography, Upita Photography, Cheong
Photography , 坂本龍影像社, EE輝的Cosplay攝影記事, Ghost Cosphoto, Felia Photography, Ka Leung Yip (YKL),
Sum So)
and All Helpers.

When and how did you get started in Cosplay?
When i was junior college student, my friend know that I'm quite interested in cosplay.
So he was invited his cosplay friends to me, and thay told me that how to make the costume and stage

property.

What was your first Cosplay?
Yuna - Final Fantasy X

What was the most difficult character?
ALL characters with large stage property are so difficult to cosplay. (Haha~ > A <)
Whether the production, transport, shooting or storage, there are many problems.

What characters are you planning for the future and type of character are you drawn to?
Kaga / Yamato (Kantai Collection),
Umi Sonoda / Rin Hoshizora / Nozomi Tojo (LoveLive! School idol project),
Sheryl Nome (MACROSS Frontier), etc.

What is your process when starting from the begining with a new cosplay?
First, Find the role of setting , the more detailed is better.
Then consider what materials and methods of manufacturing.
Discuss with friends if necessary.

Are there any helpful hints in sewing, costume design or any other aspects of your cosplay that you discovered

in doing your creations?
Many people post their production process to the internet, which is very valuable reference.

Do you have a preferred brand of make up in your cosplay? And if so why?
I prefer Laura Mercier, MAC Cosmetics, Make Up For Ever
Japan and Korea brand like Dolly Wink, KATE(Kanebo Cosmetics), 3 Concept Eyes (3CE)

What are you listening to?
Ling Tosite Sigure(凛として時雨), EGOIST

Favorite Movies?
A Clockwork Orange, Saw, Star Wars, The Terminal, Avatar, Battle Royale

Favorite Animes?
Saikano: The Last Love Song on This Little Planet, Evangelion, PSYCHO-PASS, Sword Art Online, Code Geass,

Steins;Gate, Elfen Lied, MACROSS Frontier, Attack on Titan

Favorite TV Shows?
The X-Files, Heroes of Cosplay, Sherlock

Is there a scene from a anime, cartoon, movie or tv show that left a big impression on you and what was it?
A lot...

Books?
My Girlfriend's a Geek (novel)

Games?
Final Fantasy , Resident Evil, Hatsune Miku: Project DIVA, Alice: Madness Returns

Beverage?
Chocolate Milk

Fast Food/ Junk Food of choice?
Pizza with chorizo and pineapple

Candy bar?
85% Dark Chocolate

Favorite Breakfast cereal?
Cocoa Krispies

Is there something not going on in the cosplay world that you would want to see or is there something you

would want to change?
I hope every cosplayer like cosplay from heart

What was your favorite toy growing up?
Rabbit Soft Toy

Who is your biggest character crush and why?
All male characters
Not look like a man ... Q A Q

You enter a warehouse. There is little light, but you are able to find your way around. The sound of music draws

you to a corner of the warehouse. There are FIVE GHOUL CLOWNS, playing a dancing video game. They have

razor sharp teeth and scary weapons. Magic can not affect them; they sense your presence and turn facing you.

They run to you to attack. Time to fight! What character would you want to be to defeat them and how would

you handle the situation?
Sakata Gintoki - Gintama
He can defeat many enemies with a single wooden sword, and i could follow and cover him.

If you had to be chained with a character for one year, what would be the character and what would you do?
Sakata Gintoki - Gintama
Have different world of adventure.

You can have dinner with your favorite character. And at this dinner you may ask one question. Who would be

the character and what would be your one question?
Sakata Gintoki - Gintama
"Do you have anything to say to us?" (www)

What's number 1 on your bucket list? (Something you want to do before you leave the planet).
Time travel

What advice would you give to people getting started in Cosplay?
Enjoy and have fun are the most important think. XD

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

*Today’s schedule for KPP / A music performance in Nagoya on 6 Nov.*
Nagoya is one of the biggest 5 cities in Japan. KPP will appear in Aichi
Univ. for its festival, where is located in Nagoya. Recently, KPP’s popu-
larity is achieved not only by junior high and high schools girls but also
by college students as same generation.The festival begins in 2 hours.

We tried Japanese exotic food Natto for the first time!!! If you have had it before let us know your thoughts. Did you like it??


チャンネル登録お願いします。

Thank you for watching my videos and supporting me all the time!! I’m a currently junior student in NY and vlogging what is like to live in U.S.A as international student. If you were interested in watching more, hit subscribe bottom for my future videos!!!

Another Spoken English videos
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This is the video recorded 'Young Chromatic Talents' held in the World Harmonica Festival 2013.

Ho Cheuk Yin from Hong Kong was invited as the guest performer, together with 3 other groups of players from Japan, UK and Taiwan.

Leo Ho was the champion in the Test Piece Adult solo category in the World Harmonica Festival in 2013. The class has been known as the highest level of chromatic harmonica solo competition in the world.


Ho Cheuk-yin, Leo
----
香港世界級年青口琴手
2013
World Harmonica Festival in Germany
Champion
1. Open Test Piece Chromatic Solo category
2. Open duet category
3. Open Orchestra Category
-----
Ho Cheuk-yin, Leo

Nineteen-year-old Leo Ho Cheuk-yin just began his study on occupational therapy at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University in 2012. Leo started to learn harmonica at the age of 6 under Cheung Kin-ling and 1 year later, under the tuition of renowned harmonica educator Mr. Lee Sheung-ching. In 2003, his first exposure in competition at age of 9 earned him 3rd prize in the Junior Chromatic Harmonica Solo competition of the 1st Hong Kong Harmonica Festival. In 2006, he entered the King's College for secondary school study and soon became a core member of the long established King's College Harmonica Band. Since then, he had won many local and international awards, including three 1st prizes in Harmonica Solo of the Hong Kong Schools Music Festival, 3rd prize in Junior Chromatic Harmonica Solo of the 5th Asia Pacific Harmonica Festival (APHF) 2004 in Hong Kong, as well as champion in Junior Harmonica Duo and 2nd prize in Junior Chromatic Harmonica Solo category of the 6th APHF 2006 in Taiwan.

At the 7th APHF 2008 in Hangzhou China, Leo swept the board by winning champions in all 5 categories he had entered, namely Chromatic Harmonica Solo, Duo, Trio and Ensemble of the Secondary School Class, as well as Open Class Harmonica Orchestra. In 2009, Leo made his debut at the World Harmonica Festival and Competition in Trossingen Germany and excelled among all contestants by seizing the champion in Youth Solo and Duo competitions, as well as 1st runner-up in Open Class Ensemble and Orchestra competitions. In 2010, Leo being the youngest contestant in the class and competed for the first time in the open category harmonica solo at the 8th APHF in Singapore, won the 1st runner up. Two years later in 2012, he shined again at the 9th APHF in Malaysia by winning 4 champion and a 2nd runners up titles in the open and adult classes, including the highest honour, champion at the Elite Solo Open Category. The winning piece "Invierno Porteno" was Leo's own arrangement. In 2013 Oct, Leo has obtained the highest honer of a chromatic harmonica player through winning the Test Piece category of Chromatic Harmonica solo competition in the World Harmonica Festival 2013. In the same event, he has also in total obtained three champions in the open duet category and the open orchestra category. His performances were frequently broadcasted in televisions and radios in Hong Kong.

Leo is also the leading chromatic player of the VELOZ harmonica quartet, which was formed in 2010 by four young accomplished harmonica players all brought up at the King's College. Within a short time, the celebrated group had been invited to perform at the prestigious 2010 Hong Kong Arts Festival, and internationally in Macau, Singapore, Prague, Munich, Ljublijana and Bratislava. Lately in 2012, Leo was invited to give solo and duo performance at the 25th Anniversary concert series of the Norwegian Harmonica Organization in Norway and received high acclaims.