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About Tokyo

So, here’s the deal—I knew this chick, right? Street name was Candy, real name probly somethin’ lame like Carol. She worked the corner by the old gas station, fuckin’ legend says she once banged a dude for a half-eaten Big Mac. Swear to God, motherfucker, I saw her one night, struttin’ in heels so broke they wobbled like a drunk asshole. Made me laugh, shit! “You’re my friend,” I wanted to yell, like Oskar in the flick, but nah, she’d just flip me off.

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Then, I wandered over to the shopping area on Chūō-dōri. It was packed! I was dodging people like I was in a video game. I found this little shop selling handmade crafts. I picked up a cute keychain. It was a little too pricey, but I was like, “YOLO!”

“A Cry That Rises Up in the Heat of the Moment”: An interview with curator Paulo Miyada about the powerful AI-5 exhibition at Instituto Tomie Ohtake