飯本貴子

Takako Iimoto

Home feels like the best place to be. On days off, there is a desire to stay inside all day—ideally, to sleep the entire time. When feeling low, there are even weeks when not stepping outside at all.
Once, after a long period of staying indoors, going out again and finding that it had suddenly become summer came as a shock. It was a clear realization of having lived on a different timeline from the rest of the world.

Walking through quiet streets where the presence of people can be felt is something deeply enjoyed.
It is somewhat similar to the moment of pressing the shutter. Stepping away from the noise, the body feels as if it is floating. The sounds surrounding me disappear for an instant. It is a very comfortable sensation, as if momentarily disconnected from this world.

The city where daily life unfolds is filled with human clamor, and its liveliness often feels slightly suffocating.
At home, in the city, or while traveling, when encountering something that calls for careful, sustained looking, it is still possible to float—just a little.