Ending the study of capturing the mundane everyday.
Ending the stories that lie in everyday living.
Ending the narration.
In Japan. A place that for me is not mundane, nor everyday.
But for some it is indeed.
Mundane everyday
Everyday Living,
Ending the narration.
It takes a little getting used to - the constant rushing forward.
Travelling by Shinkansen, Japan's high-speed rail system, feels at first like a plane taking off; but, you never quite achieve flight, and the acceleration seems endless.
Out the window, anything close is passing to quickly to focus on; so you adjust to a series of glimpses, of passing cities, farms, stations. And, occasionally, a human form - a face, a shape, a silhouette. A flicker of life outside the metal tube...
"Piss off!" he says "We're not here for that...we're not here for that!"
Hollering prince hustlers of black phantom clouds & alleys
We're here to drown man
We're here to wallow & thrust in technicolor lightning neon
Watch compressed masses assemble, watch arcade dramas unfold
Watch & watch & watch some more.
Three piece suit throwing up on pavement shoes heretic friend laughing his ass off
Hands on fire in a hallowed rain
Pouring
Wild & unstable as dynamite.
We want long legs around our necks
Trapped in the 50mm eye
Of sunless days & immaculate shut downs.
Drenched maniacs fighting off furies
To rise
& rise & ride
In wet chaos
Of Shinjuku.
