森善之

Yoshiyuki Mori

On a summer night. I was on the shore of a river springing from Mt Ohdaigahara among Kii-Mountains. It was a world of jet black, just like a darkroom. The loss of light made the space something totally different from the daytime. The fear of having no vision made all my hair throughout my body stand up. The anxiety of being lost in an unknown world sharpened my senses. I dreaded anticipating something hiding in the darkness. White emerged from the total darkness. I believed that I was witnessing the advent of white there. It was the moment of the birth of white. White was freshly born out of the darkness, and so was the light. Calmness and sacredness. I viewed the recognition of "white and black" as born in ancient times out of darkness. Colors certainly existed, but they could not be perceived by the naked eye. It was a nearly monochromatic world, tangible yet seemingly abstract.