In the far east The Chain Hands Pianist and The I joined together to embark on a poetic journey through the country Japan. Wings spread. Movement moved far away from the North and yet so close.
The journey brought them through holy temples, where voices could be heard through the rice paper walls. Through cities where mystery linger and through cities screaming from above. They traveled through fields on the verge of a turn to silver – in a place where eggs turn to black and where water is milky white. They immersed into the beauty and regenerated to forcefully continue on the path of the poetic and the sensuous.
