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Walking through the streets of Mishima, I was intrigued by a literary monument. There is a shiny black stone by a clear river, carved with famous literary texts that should be preserved for future generations. I suddenly wondered what was the difference between the words inscribed here, which will not change shape for several hundred years, and the many words in the library, the diary that I write in without showing it to anyone, or the notes I take while on the phone.


The production began by cutting up and rearranging sentences from the diaries of Mishima residents, books they selected (e.g., books on flute exercises, folktales, dialects, and city specialties), and city guidebooks. At first glance, the grammar seemed broken and incoherent, but there was no doubt that the words were about Mishima. From these words, he expanded his ideas, created paintings, and rewoven the created words into a book.



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