The moment your nails and hair are cut, they are no longer part of you, becoming litter and something dirty. I always thought that was strange, even when I was a child. I remember looking down from the beauty salon chair at my hair fallen to the floor and being reminded of the cast-off shells of cicadas. Recently, the world has abruptly become narrow and stifling. I acted as if everything was fine, but my soul gradually hardened, leaving my body and losing substance. From around that time, the person in the mirror seemed like a stranger. The fallen hair in my hand seemed like the hair of a stranger. That can’t be true, I thought. To shed my soul that had suddenly become heavy and to shift my perspective forward, I cut my hair in its place. I stood barefoot on the pile of hair that reminded me of the abandoned cicada shells when I was a child, transforming feel to a realization. Something that was a part of me only a moment ago. But something longer needed. The borderline barely exists. CUT OFF We cut off, accept, cut off in a cycle as we move forward. To live.
12:00 - 19:00
7-1 Higashikujo Kitamatsunoki-cho, Minami-Ku, Kyoto