a boy and a girl. six.

a boy and a girl. five.

a boy and a girl. four.

coffee and muffin - green plate, grey cup, orange counter.

a boy and a girl. three.

a boy and a girl. two.

yellow sky

Notes from outside the abandoned pigeon hospital / Transmissions from the city

Back at the orange cafe again.

Ton is on a short break. She is sitting at the seat beside me, drinking from the staff cup. I know it's the staff cup because it has "スタッフ" written on the side. She is rooting through my pencil case. It's full of felt-tip pens. She is pulling them out and examining them thoughtfully. I wonder what thoughts are running through her head as she looks intently at those coloured pens.

I decide it's time to test out my new name cards. I get given so many name cards in Japan that I decided it was about time I had my own to give out. My name cards are hand drawn and coloured using the felt-tip pens Ton is holding in her hand. I get them out of my bag and hand one to Ton using both my hands.

Soon after the other three girls working there are asking for my hand-made name cards. They use my address on the card to send me emails saying, "HELLO!"

Ton finishes her break and goes back to washing up cups and glasses. I sit writing email replies to people who are moving around busily behind the counter in front of me.

a boy and a girl. one.

Notes from outside the abandoned pigeon hospital / Transmissions from the city

You go to the cafe in the art gallery. You go there to read your book and draw a picture.

You notice that all of the other people there are either old, or little kids with their mothers playing in the play area.

Behind you, the old people are chattering away. In front of you, the little kids are making the noises that little kids make when playing. You are surrounded by these sounds. Time goes by slowly. Your thoughts travel into previously uncharted territory.

Occasionally, you can hear the whirring of the coffee machine.

she asked me ...

The Tower

On the 44th floor of a three-cornered tower

in a city on the coast,

the mayor looks out over a shimmering sea.

He can see across to another shore

where another country begins,

where another mayor looks back across at him.

Sometimes he phones up the other mayor, but says nothing.

"I know it's you, you bastard," says the voice

on the other end of the line.

Each mayor imagines the devious machinations of the other

but the cities continue to trade the things they produce.

The coming and going of ships

marks the passing of time.

Then one day ...

The mayor's assistant stands at the window

looking through a pair of binoculars.

"Oh no!" he exclaims.

"What is it?" enquires the mayor.

"A new tower! They are building a taller tower!" he gasps,

turning to meet the glare of his boss.

Mapping the Infinite

You say that life is just pattern recognition. Patterns within yourself. Patterns you can see all around. Stories played out on a map of time and space. Of course, you are part of the pattern, you may influence the pattern. Any time you attempt to draw a conclusion, you must bear this in mind.

So you say let's map reality, the world as it appears to ourselves. There is nothing else. There is only the world as we see it, the way we experience it. Let's deceive ourselves in the most entertaining ways possible.

You refuse simple categorisations. Better to be in a state of becoming, that to have arrived at a fixed point. To stop changing is to die. And you know that weaknesses are what make people so interesting. Beauty lies in the imperfections.

As you travel around in your body, it is fun to see how you react to the situations you met. You are endlessly entertained by yourself. The situations you meet are infinite in number.

Life is infinite. You are sure of that. And you are both comforted and scared by that fact.

Shikibu - Love Nandayo?