Ghost Island, Nagasaki Prefecture

battleship islandThe island was populated from 1887 to 1974 as a coal mining facility.

It is one of the 505 uninhabited islands in the Nagasaki Prefecture, 9 miles off the coast of Nagasaki.

Known for it’s coal mines, and their operations, Mitsubishi bought the island in 1890, and built the first large (9 stories) concrete block of apartments in 1916.

Peak population was 5,259 in 1959hashima-island3

It stands empty today.

1960’s the coal mines began shutting down due to the advance of petroleum. The mine was officially closed in 1974.

It reopened to travel on 4/22/2009 after 35 years of closure.

It’s original name is Hashima Island, nicknamed during it’s hey day as Battleship Island because of it’s shape and resemblance.  None of which has changed, except for it’s current abandoned nickname  – Ghost Island.

In 2013, Google sent an employee to the island with a Street View backpack to capture its condition and allow users to take a virtual walk across the island. Google also used its Business Photos technology to let users look inside the abandoned buildings.  The video is below.


jacketflapYou may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters?

She’s not perfect – you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break – her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give.

Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.

Source: Bob Marley


Inky’s Take: I like, Mr. Marley!

Valentine’s Day is creeping up my dear readers, time to start thinking of your valentine and what you want to gift them to show the depth of your feelings for them.

Try to do something different, truly personal… not the same-o flowers, or chocolates… something special.  Make he/she feel like they are the only ones in the world, not like the others getting what I use to call the ‘forget-me-not’ gifts.  The flowers and chocolates I mentioned quickly grabbed without an ounce of thought to it.  They always made me feel so ordinary, and second thoughtish.   In no way shape or form, special.

Is that what you want your guy or girl to feel?  I didn’t think so.  You can do it, make me proud!  Put on your thinking cap, and make this Valentine’s Day special.

Need suggestions?  Ask me.   inkyspen dot com.

My Day….


Inky:  … need I say more?

Image: Fritz Ahlefeldt

There is a legend…


…..about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth.

From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out carol the lark and the nightingale.

One superlative song, existence the price.

But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles.

For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain… Or so says the legend.

Source: Colleen McCullough, The Thorn Birds


All at once…


What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.
It was like being exhumed, I answered, and brought to life in a flash of brilliance.

What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.
It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.

What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow. There was a long pause before I responded:  It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me—said all at once.

Source: Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure

Image: found @

Inky’s Take: Today is an anniversary of sorts.  A really sad one.  The memories rattle around inside me never letting me forget.

As if I would ever wish to….

Wow! What a Ride…

Sunrise-From-Newfound-Gap-Great-Smoky-Mountains-North-CarolinaLife should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!

Source: Hunter S Thompson

Inky’s Take:  You know how it is, the Boss hands you a project, and immediately you are like ‘Oh. Man.’ and you envision nights of overtime, a stuffy office, and little sleep.   Done it for years, know the drill.

Only this time, The Someone in the Great Ether decided I deserved a break.   Yes, I was assigned a project.  Yes I will be away for a bit.  But what the hey, I’m going to the mountains! For a gal that lives and breaths the sea it’s a new adventure.

It’s kicked my wanderlust engine in gear and it’s revving! I’ve packed my camera, hiking boots, heavy parka, heavy jeans, thermal undies, thermos, pocketknife my dad gave me years a ago, waterproof matches and my sense of needing to get ‘just there’.    Sure I have all the work stuff.  Sure, I’ll work hard and all.  But, when I don’t have to be in the office, I won’t be. Trust me.

(doing her Snoopy Dance) I’m going to the mountains, I’m going to the mountains….

Look out Bigfoot I’m a comin…

You should date…


….a girl who reads.

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Source: Rosemarie Urqui

Image: Found at Zoom Walls

Inky’s Take: I felt my heart squeeze, the world fade at the edges and a twitch tease my lips up in a smile.  Because, “she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.” Truth.

You should.  Always.  Date a girl that reads….


..Sioux Indian brave with two feathers on horseback.  Circa 1907

Edward S Curtis 1907

The life of an Indian is like the wings of the air. That is why you notice the hawk knows how to get his prey. The Indian is like that. The hawk swoops down on its prey; so does the Indian.

In his lament he is like an animal. For instance, the coyote is sly; so is the Indian. The eagle is the same. That is why the Indian is always feathered up; he is a relative to the wings of the air.

Source: Black Elk – Oglala Sioux

Photo: Edward S Curtis

Inky: Pixel Lane is a new category to Inky’s Pen.  I added it because sometimes I find a photo, illustration, art that really strikes me; spiritually, emotionally.  The above photo is one of them.  I ran across it in my various meanderings and the words “Genuine Sioux Indian Brave” hit me.

While I can’t speak to it, it speaks volumes to me and that is why I created the new category.  To pay homage – to the photo, illustration, art, artist, photographer and in this instance to the brave.


out sick

The Crud – the catchall diagnosis of physicians that can’t put a label on why you have a 101 fever, chills, nausea, dizziness, and bones that ache so bad you know they’d show up throbbing and red on an X-ray.

Normally followed by a..

Cocktail shot – a little of this, a little of that, a long needle, the nurse from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,  exposure of the derriere region for said nurse and a jab to the aforementioned muscle that hurts like heck(!).

Rapid re-dressing while still rubbing the hurting region, the jab of a square piece of paper with an indecipherable written prescription for an unpronounceable antibiotic, a stern admonishment to rest, drink plenty of fluids and stay inside.  (Yea well feeling like this who the heck is going anywhere but the bed, and bathroom?!)

All of which I laid out $75.00 for, after insurance of course.  I don’t known which hurts the worse, my wallet or my body…..

Any who…. I’ll be back sometime the first of next week. After all you heard the man, rest, juice, and no meandering.

(heartfelt sigh) Just shoot me now….

Now what?


Remember all those times you said, ‘When Hell freezes?’

It just got real.   Time to ante up!