Lately, I’ve been listening to Masakatsu Takagi’s album Marginalia II. The composition articulates summer with a score of crickets, running water, birds chirping, and unidentifiable howls. The touch of a human hand is almost imperceptible, a gentle tap of a piano key that merges all the elements. Layers of nature, humankind, and the obscure blend together—not unlike the drawings from Z’otz* Collective.
Two birds (violet). A foot (suntanned in argyle). Two hands (one transparent, the other monster green). A tree branch that has been meticulously sliced into kindling, which is also an arm. The rings of a tree trunk, or maybe a fingerprint.
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