A photo doesn’t only record memories, sometimes it dictatess them. In my mind the area between the Ginza and the wall of the Sumida River is a grey place, grainy and purposely left to stagnate so that developers can move in. Walking through the neighborhood again recently, I was suprised that this paticular spot I photographed before was actually green.
A few years ago I first walked by here and snapped a scene of children throwing rocks by the wall. Looking through the lens then I felt as if I was transported to a Shanghai suburb, or somewhere on the edge of Singapore. It seemed unusually “Asian,” someone who’d seen the photo told me. With each view the photo the more it became the reality, so that I eventually forgot the look of the original place.
Coming back again after all this time, I found myself surprised again and setting up the same view in the finder, but from a few steps back. I’ve changed like that. And through the lens I saw this: a very Tokyo Tokyo.