Geo - Studio the Future
1 b/w riso zine, 28 images

The skies seemed low, it’s gotten dark quite quickly. All colours have left and the remaining light would only draw out the landscape’s figures in a palette of greys and blacks, shapeshifting and gradually disappearing one after another.

The meandering path became more narrow, took us through a muddy forestry bit, onto the railroad, and back up the hill. The length of a step changed from walking on changing surfaces, and so did the sound. The moisture hung in the air making it hard to inhale fully and thunder began to occupy all of the space around. It still didn’t rain.

As we came in, someone was sitting on the veranda with their back turned to the entrance. The space had a familiar smell — one of a late summer night. We loaded the laundry we knew wouldn’t dry, and set on the kettle. I took a photograph.

The tablecloth appeared shiny from both age and humidity even in the dim glow of an old ceiling bulb. The growing branches of frequent lightning have now been segmenting the sky into pieces, making the view from up here seem like a highly orchestrated and dramatic performance. The soft feeling of clarity was there with us this very moment.

Geo, 2022
published by Studio the Future
b/w riso print
36 pages
edition 250

launch at Tokyo Art Book Fair on October 28th
available on request