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Mostly Monochrome Monday #199

After the haze clears, the fun of flocking and chatting awaits.
靄が晴れたあとには、皆でするおしゃべりの愉しみが待っている。

The photo above is actually having a lot of colours and obviously it should not be a monochrome photograph. However, sometimes I think, black and white photographs has colours in nature. You can remove surplus information raised by colours using monochrome photos but it doesn’t mean colours are missing. Human beings can imagine additional information from it. Therefore, low-contrast photo having colours are always interesting.

今回は実際のところ白黒写真ではない。白黒写真のメリットは色によって与えられる余分な情報を落とせることにあるが、一方で人はそこから想像するものである。情報を減らせない低コントラストの写真は、だからちょっと面白くて難しい。

A Part of Mostly Monochrome Monday

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Mostly Monochrome Monday #198

Last Saturday, I posted a similar picture only with a Japanese poem. Perhaps, the words might be a bit complicated to understand even for Japanese speaker. Indeed, I found that the most of translators work very well but sometimes very strange. So I made my English translation as you see here. Please understand some awkward wordings and mistakes left. I’m not a native English speaker.

On spending everyday in the gap between an ordinary daybreak and a non-special dusk, reminiscences spill into the crack between a morning and the evening after something special happened.

Just like the aluminium pigeons keep pulling the showers that someone forgot to rain at the beginning of spring, I’m washing away yesterday’s stuck in my thirsty throat with hot coffee

While the boundary between the horizon where rain clouds can be seen in the distance and the afternoon that lasts for 28 hours is hazy, a foreign country until yesterday falls into a gap in a supermarket shopping cart.

Looking at the reflection on the window where the paint had peeled off, as if tomorrow was about to come,
I tell myself that tomorrow has already passed, which is reflected in today.

That’s also a part of daily life.


A Part of Mostly Monochrome Monday

Bonne journée, Photo

being of no matter

なんでもない朝と特別でない夕暮れの隙間に日常を過ごし、
特別な朝となにかがあった夕暮れの隙間に追憶が紛れ込む。
春の始まりに降り忘れた驟雨をアルミ色の鳩が寄せ続けるように、
渇いた喉の奥に引っかかった昨日を熱いコーヒーで洗い流す。
雨雲が遠く見える地平線と28時間続く午後との境目は朧げで、
昨日までの異国がスーパーの買い物カゴの隙間に転げ落ちる。
そろそろ明日は来そうかと塗装の剥げ落ちた窓に反射する今日を眺め、
とっくに明日は過ぎたよと今日に反射する自分に言い聞かせる。
それもまた今日という日常。