Telling stories from the Tokyo metropolis
Looking into the distance
Was there ever a time when things were simple? Everything always seems so complicated in the present. Could that be a memory flaw? When viewed through the broken shards of days gone by, somehow the past is relatively straightforward. Even the future seems more complete than the present. Through the haze of time, we can glimpse the path in the distance, but the immediate step is often shrouded in darkness. Looking into the distance in either direction, meaning can be found, but here in the moment, meaning hangs like vapour in sunlight, ephemeral, inscrutable, seemingly unconnected to the story.
