When I arrived in Sapporo in June, it was so cold that the clusters of light purple lilacs in the alleys and under the eaves shivered in the air. While other parts of Japan had entered the rainy season, here the wind kept blowing for days and the streets and avenues turned white. Keeping the promise he had firmly made to me, I took my camera every morning and went out into the street, with the regularity of an office worker, with no intention of meeting any friends or acquaintances. I spent most of these three months alone. Aside from very basic daily conversations (buying a ticket at the station, ordering a coffee, or making the occasional phone call), he just kept his mouth shut. I soon ran out of sleeping pills, and since I didn't drink, all I could do was spend the long nights reading books. The daily photo shoots weren't really fruitful, and there I was, sitting in my freezing apartment, on the brink of despair with my progressive mix of depersonalization, aphasia, and insomnia. So, in other words, my lifestyle was based from the beginning on that sycophantic and illusory idea of escape and isolation, my only justification which was to take pictures, was easily reverted from the true intention that it used to be, to mere pretense. . Those guilty days passed one after another, and before the summer was over, I decided to return to Tokyo. After all, I haven't made any progress, but what I do have, as proof of my endless walks around different places, are 250 used rolls of film. – from the afterword by Daido Moriyama.
First Limited Edition of 600 copies.
Book size 210 x 297mm
Pages 72
Soft cover
