moom bookshop

First, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to all of those who stood before me and taught immature me about the splendor of living, the seemingly momentary sparkle of evanescence, the power of life with its ability to disentangle everything, and so many other things.

We become afterimages that are constantly passing each other somewhere and small enough to be buried in our memories.

One person is returning a movie they've rented,
one is accompanying their parents on an errand,
one is walking their pet,
one was drenched in the rain,
one has a habit of going to the same place at the same time every day,
and one is just sitting there resting.

There are people who are enjoying something with friends, helping with the housework, going to cram school or some other kind of class, out on a date with their lover, working, shopping on the way home from dinner, suffering from an injury or accident, drunk, going wild, worrying, rejoicing, and distraught with loneliness.

One person talks about someone they like,
one expresses their dissatisfaction with their parents,
one is canvassing for a religious,
one is taking about their experiences in the war,
and one is telling a story that seems like a dream.

One person is a child, one is an adult, one is a man, one is a woman, and one could be either.

Everything is fantastic, everything is ordinary, everyone is inside each person, and they are living each life heartily. Within in an instant, a wave approaches and returns. When I'm standing there, all I can do is click the shutter as I tremble.

Something beyond my own will is captured in a photograph. Although I know that, as I talk and think about photography I am immersed in a lofty sensation, as if this was something that was always mine. But all of this is just an afterthought. It was really only an encounter with a photograph that could have involved that person in that place at that time. That's all.

Photographs always start talking to me in these situations, "Isn't this what you're looking for?" But I can't really say for sure - and probably never will be able to.

(from the postscript)