Tokyo Times

Probably the only thing connecting these images are their depictions of everyday, normal life. Something that I increasingly find both important and fascinating to photograph. Little vignettes of daily existence that will never be repeated in the same way ever again. All of which is true except perhaps for the man in his bold gold outfit, although you never know, that could well be his regular, weekday wardrobe. Either way though, these were all taken over the last few months. Most of them in my favoured east Tokyo, but a few were also from further out west.

I took these photographs of this lovely old lady back in 2014, with the opening one immediately becoming an all time fave. Needless to say it was a completely unexpected encounter, which, after that initial shot, resulted in me lifting up all the remaining shutters, helping out with a difficult to move sliding door, and then being told in no uncertain terms to wash my hands after such dirty work.

Once cleaned up, I was then offered some instant ramen, along with a selection of alcoholic beverages in miniature bottles that were magically produced from a nearby cupboard. Offers I had to politely decline as it wasn’t the right time of day for any of them, but it was also clear that more than anything, she just wanted someone to talk to, even if that person grew up in a very different environment, and also didn’t quite understand every word she said. So we chatted for a while, and she told me a bit about her life. One that she now lived alone, in her former business, and where visits weren’t anywhere near as frequent as she’d have liked. She also apologised for the stuff piled up here, there and everywhere, but at 93 years of age, she was simply too old and too tired to do much about It.

Before I left and continued on my walk. she kindly posed for a couple of portraits, and then we said our goodbyes. An encounter that for me at least was incredibly memorable. Plus, as time passed, it became increasingly poignant, as I never saw her again. In fact, I never even saw the shutters open. Well, until just recently that is, when the building was being ripped apart for renovation. So I stepped inside one more time to take one last photo. This time though there was no conversation or offers of alcohol. No life either. Not even any signs of it. Just the silence of an empty building that was once a home.