藤本篤史 / Atsushi Fujimoto
切れない臍の緒 / An Uncut Umbilical Cord
2026.2.3 (tue) – 2.15 (sun)
Open 12:00 – 19:00 Closed Mondays
あの町にいるとすべてが遠くに見える。
故郷を離れて15年経つが、郷愁に駆られることはない。「いつ地元に戻ってくるのか」両親からのいつもの問いには、それっぽい返事を自然とできるようになった。そんな時に私がたまに思い出すのは、何かに怯えながら町を歩いていた昔の自分である。
写真を撮ることを祈りとするなら、カメラはお守りのようなものだろう。怖がりな私の今の持ち物として、それはちょうど良かったのかもしれない。
15年ぶりに町を歩きながら、ふと、そう思った。
遠くから祭りの音が近づいてくる。
When I am in that town, everything seems far away.
It has been fifteen years since I left my hometown, but I am not overcome by nostalgia. When my parents ask, as they always do, “When are you coming back home?”, I have learned to give a suitably vague answer without thinking. At times like that, what I occasionally recall is my former self, walking through the town while afraid of something I could never quite name.
If taking photographs is a form of prayer, then a camera is something like a protective charm. For the fearful person I have become, perhaps it was just the right thing to carry. As I walked through the town for the first time in fifteen years, that thought suddenly came to me.
From far away, the sounds of a festival draw closer.
藤本篤史 / Atsushi Fujimoto