From the Obsidian Room — an immersive piece where words dissolve into moving light.
Beneath the dappled light of an Indian-summer day, the long-awaited day arrives. A cinematic poem gazing up at a great ginkgo gilded in gold.
When the pinch comes, we climb side by side. A red and a white paper crane lift from the ridgeline into the sky — a cinematic poem of one glittering hour spent with a friend.
Grain upon grain, gathered without show, fills the storehouse and at last becomes a throne. A cinematic poem of a crown set quietly upon a throne amid the ripening ears.
Round the corner waits a tanuki of gold. Two tricksters face to face — and one says, 'You and I, we are the same.' A cinematic poem from deep in the woods.
Like shedding a kimono, all that is within spills outward. A piece set in an old sideshow hut — a device that recalls forgotten memories.
A memory of one encounter beneath a cherry tree that blooms all year. A cinematic poem from the Obsidian Room.