The Story
One bright April afternoon in the spring of 2018, I was 29 years old.
I thought that if I was at Jingu Stadium something might fall silently from a sparkling blue sky like what had happened to Haruki Murakami.
Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was just a white ball with red stitches.
The foreign player playing for the Yakult Swallows hit neither a two-base hit down the left field line nor a light fly ball. Not even the sharp sound of a bat that just met a fastball.
I didn’t receive anything.
- Jun Iwasaki
From the book “Hear The Wind Sing”
Unframed
9.8 cm x 14.8 cm (Image) + 2 cm of white margin
Archival Inkjet print on Hahnemuhle William Turner 310g
Édition of 3 of 5
Printed in 2024
Numbered and signed on the back
© Jun Iwasaki
Description
One bright April afternoon in the spring of 2018, I was 29 years old.
I thought that if I was at Jingu Stadium something might fall silently from a sparkling blue sky like what had happened to Haruki Murakami.
Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was just a white ball with red stitches.
The foreign player playing for the Yakult Swallows hit neither a two-base hit down the left field line nor a light fly ball. Not even the sharp sound of a bat that just met a fastball.
I didn’t receive anything.
- Jun Iwasaki
From the book “Hear The Wind Sing”
Unframed
9.8 cm x 14.8 cm (Image) + 2 cm of white margin
Archival Inkjet print on Hahnemuhle William Turner 310g
Édition of 3 of 5
Printed in 2024
Numbered and signed on the back
© Jun Iwasaki
