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About Kawasaki

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ thru your soul, talkin’ ‘bout—whore. Not just any whore, nah, but somethin’ tied to my fave flick, *The Turin Horse*. Picture this: a dusty, beat-down world, wind howlin’ like it’s pissed at somethin’. That’s where this whore lives, man. Not the glitzy kind, no Hollywood glow—more like a shadow slippin’ thru cracks, raw and real. “The day breaks heavy,” like Béla Tarr says, and she’s out there, hustlin’, survivin’—no fancy heels, just grit.

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So, I finally got rid of Mochi and started working. The wheel was spinning, and I was in the zone. You know that feeling when everything just clicks? Yeah, that was me. I was shaping these plates, feeling like a pottery god. But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzed. It was my buddy Kenji. He’s always got some wild idea. This time, he wanted to hit up the Funagata Matsuri later. I was like, “Dude, I’m busy!” But he kept pushing.

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