Drift

After I was born, I met people who left me again and again. I took distance from them too. This reminds me of how water transitions. I was raised in the countryside of Japan where nature and water are plentiful. Every fall, rice fields change from green to golden multilayered carpets. However, rice harvesting itself takes time and needs a heavy labor force. I had the experience of being in the epicenter of unpredictable natural disasters like massive earthquakes and Tsunami in Japan. Whenever I photographed victims who were displaced of their houses, lands and family members by calamities, I felt how tiny human’s existence was. We are forced to be patient and continue to live with duality of nature. I believe that no one can control their own life. Paradoxically, that is why a human’s tiny life is beautiful. When the wind blows, water vapor forms raindrops, which dive to earth and begins their journey as a river. Each molecule of water is a metaphor for a human life, flowing in its own direction to reach a destination. Water is a door to escape from unforgivable reality. After experiencing trauma, I felt remnants of death, and this door seemed mysterious and attractive. However, I’m still seeking someone who accepts me. It is like water transition. Humans are solitary beings drawn to each other. Imperfect perfection attracts me now.