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About Kyoto

But wait—anger kicks in, see? Roads are rough, cops everywhere, sniffin’ round like war boys. “Witness me!” I yell, dodgin’ their shiny badges. Last week, lost a crate of booze—fumin’ I was! Prostitute hops in, says she knows secret routes. Little known fact, eh—some o’ these gals smuggle more than just charm. Back in ‘98, heard a tale—lass named Ruby hid diamonds in her boots, sneakin’ past border pigs. True story, swear it!

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I grab my drink and head out. The streets of Fujishiro are buzzing. I stroll down Shōwa-dōri, and it’s packed with people. I love the vibe here. It’s like everyone’s in their own world, but somehow we’re all connected. I spot this street performer, a guy playing the shamisen. He’s got mad skills! I stop to listen, and suddenly, I’m transported. It’s like the music is telling me stories. I’m grinning like an idiot.

100 Years of Seiji Fujishiroー Beautiful Earth, Joy of Living, and the Future （Fukuoka City Museum）