Buried Deep Inside (2014- )
People in towns and villages are the unconscious keepers of lores and legends, the origins of which they are unaware.
There are usually no signatures or evidence left, but I admit that from time to time I have sensed the smell and feel of their presence on swings blown by the wind in big old trees, and when I traced shadows moving subtly on a sunny day.
As I said, everything returns to the soil eventually. Every single subject, matter and occasion, regardless of whether it is natural or artificial, remains in the soil under my feet, and waits for its time to be reborn. That is why there are times when I can smell and feel their breath.
Without exception, we all come from the soil, and return there fatefully. Our lives of the soil communicate with and reflect on countless origins, pasts and futures.
I keep standing right on the spot, where the story began and is calm now, to try to expand my imagination ― bleeding blood, deadly contaminated subjects, roars, and so on, and so forth. The soil I am standing on is universally connected with everywhere. From towns to towns and villages to villages. Thus, occurrences are simultaneously everywhere, and we all have the soil deep in our hearts and souls that are open to let them enter.
Paper : kyokushi / Inkjet print
Edition : 10 / Paper Size : 23.39 inch (W)-16.54 inch(H) : 594 mm(W)-420 mm(H)
10 / Paper Size : 19 inch (W)-13 inch(H) : 483 mm(W)-329 mm(H)