Hayato WAKABAYASHI
Friday 30 September - Saturday 29 October 2016
Photobook |
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C Prints | |||
Copyright (c) Hayato Wakabayashi All Rights Reserved
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I know that it's a bit early for summer, but I've decided to go and see the ocean once the rainy season is over. I'm ready for the beach house, even if it's just for a day. I will care not of the bored employees that sit on the deck. My eyes open in the early hours, long before the lifeguard is sitting in their chair. Looking around me, only a few other people are on the shore. In the bar my eyes are fixed on a pinup of a girl with a beautiful smile. She's wearing a bikini and holding a beer glass, while lying down on the beach... Year after year, a young boy will run into the ocean without a care in the world. The call of the ocean finds a man standing at the edge of a cliff, listening to his confessions. Every year the bodies do the same, but with different faces. I think about them - always... This time I'll capture my conversations with the ocean by taking lots of photographs. They help me to remember my winter by the Japanese sea when the waves were raging, or when I visited an Okinawan Island that was suffering a direct hit from a typhoon. Perhaps, this time, this year, I'll capture the ocean and myself in summer time. This time, I'll try to wake up early everyday to watch the sunrise. To witness the Sun's intense heat searing the sands, hot enough to melts skin from bones. I'm looking forward to it... Just not the smell of the sea or the discomfort from the treacherous humidity. Maybe this time there'll be people in the ocean, floating instead of swimming. Perhaps glowing with sunburn despite their thick layers of sunscreen. Maybe this time I'll see a lifeguard rescuing somebody from the ocean. Knowing my luck, the tide will lose its mind and there will be a red flag fluttering in the wild wind that reads, "No Swimming". The funny thing is that what I've seen, and will see, is only a sliver compared to the vastness of the ocean. Our bodies can be tossed like beach sand or just as easily swallowed by a whale. There is no question about it − the ocean is both beautiful and fearsom. In summer, when I visit the ocean, I realize that it has already been three years. |
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