I always have the wiseness to try to stay alone without flocking with people. I can write about the castle at any time. There was also a hollow hole that I couldn’t understand.
I have to kill time. If I have a perfect time, it’s time to face this Mackintosh.
But to get a perfect time, I have to spend some inconvenience. To make the most of one hour, you have to kill two hours. One thing to watch out for is that you shouldn’t kill all your time, all the years.
Now I’m entering a world of subtle nuances and shadows. My words are cultivated by what I hardly notice. It is a good thing. Now I’m writing a different kind of drivel than before. Some may be aware of that.
p.s. Bullet holes were made in the stone wall at the battle of the Satsuma Rebellion in 1877.
Some photographers want to shoot the same thing that pleased their readers in the past. That’s the end of them. For most photographers, the period of creativity is short.
They listen to the words of praise and believe it. Only one person makes the final decision on what he took. It’s the photographer himself.
When photographers are at the mercy of critics, editors, publishers, and readers, it’s over. And, needless to say, when a photographer becomes swayed by fame and wealth, he has no choice but to drown in the lake with algae.