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Tuesday, 20 November 2012











A man below me is walking across a small landscape, he reminds me of that other man... The man with the camera bag wrapped tightly across his knuckles and lost... walking into an imperceptible shifting distance. Little Kairi, the child who is full of love lies not in this place. her future - the space that once occupied the Americas, or is that Japan? Those big-blue eyes on olive - the natural conclusion for a world in which moon fragments land upon an others skin and do not burn. When those two worlds have collided in secret, one no longer aware of the division lines of the other... What makes that culture the culture of the other side of the world. Kairi happens. Kairi is born. The man below me is walking across a damp landscape in an institution that posits itself as no institution. He duplicates an image from Kafka and Van Gogh but I don't think that he is aware. 

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