Jumping off at a random station: Katsura.
The coarse, dirty and wild beauty of hidden or cast away objects and landscapes is like refreshing water after the hungry city lights and novelty spectacles begging for attention. The reality is never covered under masks of forced smiles and the landscapes of smothered laughter, dead-ripe tangerines, bad idea -bottles and dancing mosquitoes need no make up. That long lost village behind the dream seeking sleepy butterfly-eyelashes still hums its lullaby. A shorter way to grow fingers into dirt is to take a step back and a closer look into the space between those attention seeking structures.
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