where he wasn’t anymore

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Lift-off at midday, Tokyo. Touchdown London, 3pm. Somewhere in the middle, an eleven-hour flight. The shock of long-distance travel somehow lessened by a. the non-place of alcohol and movies, and b. not being in any case very awake or aware of Tokyo this morning. So the banality of a Picadilly line trip from one end to the other (as i type) pretends to be just that, rather than one half of an impossibly long day stretched over two mentally incompatible places. No, I was awake this morning, just not that present and instead looking over my mind’s-shoulder, back into the blur of some dream involving an ecstatic reunion with a younger Dad, his bright eyes delighted to see me, his polo jumper well-fitting, welcoming. Britt sent me the above photo by Thomas Wrede from his mischievously named show ‘Real Landscapes’ (currently at Wagner + Partner, Berlin) – several pages more of this great series here.

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