Once I lived in Japan. My photo collection from that time is disorganized, full of small and apparently meaningless shots of things that have drawn my attention, countless pictures of stones or leaves, negatives I don't feel looking through. Maybe it is so, because the most meaningful things are the most difficult to catch? After a year of exchange studies I lived a half year in a Zen temple on the countryside. I moved in their gradually, skipping classes to visit the temple from May onwards. In August I visited Finland, leaving my camera behind. I don't think I could have, anyways, shot hours of meditation without moving even my toes, the thick autumn fog that filled the valley of the temple in mornings and disappeared before twelve, weeding the moss garden early in the morning or clouds losing their way, descending from hills to the valley.
Toukokuussa pienet sammakonpoikaset täyttivät puutarhan, kiiveten puihin ja kaikkialle mihin pääsivät. On May, tiny frogs filled the grounds, climbing on trees and everywhere they could. |
Riisipeltoja ja tie temppelin vierasmajaan. Riisipellossa näkyy pilven heijastus. Rice fields and the way to the guest house of the temple. A cloud's reflection shows on the surface of a rice pad. |