Daydreaming by the Japan Sea
An essay on a photoshoot day
The sun beat down on us as we carried our strange array of items to the shore. We were in the deep countryside of Kyoto, so far to the edge that we reached the Japan sea. The water was clear, and at this season it was inhabited by small bobbling jellyfish that beached themselves, creating a precarious trail down the beach. Amongst the plant matter, seaweed, and trash, these translucent stinging creatures did not jump into your immediate view.
I found myself the least worried about the jellyfish and remained concerned about the unexpected heat. The weather report was fickle the past week, but on the day of the shoot, it forecasted cloudy weather—a relief to the photographer I am. And yet, here we all were, completely suffocating in a humid heat that seemed to permeate all the way to the bone.
It was in this setting that I found myself with this particular concept, clutching my strange items. Two different fish tanks, a wide range of nature-safe food coloring, a child’s school desk and chair from the Showa era, and a large prickly and loose shimenawa that was gifted to me from the temple near my home. I walked with this thick purification rope, it tickled my fingers as it left a trail of rice hay.
