I’m in Seoul on business.
I’m writing this at my hotel desk at night.
Neon lights are glowing softly through the thin lace curtains.
Lately, whenever I stay in a hotel, I take pictures like this.
The soft, flickering neon lights of night.

I like nighttime.
Because I feel like the words I speak fade away.
Sometimes, when I talk, I wish the other person would forget what I said.
It’s okay if they don’t remember.
All I want is for them to listen.

I fall asleep the moment I get into bed.
I rarely have difficulty sleeping.
I remember when growing pains kept me awake as a child.
“Goodnight, stars on the roof. I'll wake up soundly tomorrow,” was my bedtime phrase.

The ceiling at my grandparents’ house was made of cedar planks.
That was the nighttime view during my long stays there.
I’d fall asleep tracing the wood grain with my eyes.
　

Nowadays, there’s no space before sleep. I close my eyes, and morning comes.
No bedtime ritual, just a pure white ceiling.

I don’t think about things before bed or reflect on the day, so maybe that’s why I tend to forget things.
Even if I forget what I said or saw, the fact that it happened doesn’t change, so I suppose that’s okay.

One thing I know for sure, though, is that I remember the circumstances and feelings when I took photos.
I have those memories.
They’re like neon lights seen through curtains, softly but surely glowing within a faint membrane.

　

　
Masumi Ishida
Born in 1998.
Held his first solo exhibition "GINGER ALE" in May 2017. February 2018, first collection of works
"Light years" was published by TISSUE PAPERS. August 2019, second book
The company will publish a collection of works “everything will flow” and a third collection of works “echo” in 2021. Participated in an exhibition at Ichihara Lakeside Art Museum in Chiba Prefecture in July 2024.