June Kitahara and Kana Motojima
June, 2025
June, 2025
Hi June,
There is barely anything that I did popping up immediately and it might be because I didn’t take that many photos, the bad habit of mine where I store all my memories in photographs.
Possibly a good thing that I actually lived in the present, as you know that has been a task of mine.
This month has been a lot.
My mind was okay since I was busy.
The amount of homes I saw, the politics between the landlord and agent. It was hard to play the game.
I want some time to think, to think for myself and others, I want the ease to breathe. I go back and forth wondering if this is a mindset or a privilege. I hope one day I find out.
Hi Kana,
I was looking for my old notebook, because I wanted to recycle myself to be of use to you. I felt I was a better thinker and writer last year, but I guess this forced condition begets new ways of articulating…
Thank you for always reminding me of the importance of stillness. I thought of you a lot while Kris and I were in Mexico City earlier this month.
We found a large artisanal market that housed numerous vendors. The outdoor courtyard was quiet. I would have sat right here for a couple of hours if I could, and I should have. I have a bad habit of moving on too quickly.
Frida Kahlo was a cancer, born July 6th. I thought of putting an image of her shared home and studio with Diego Rivera, but I noticed that as we stepped outside, her own image became singular. The vendor stall was shrine like, and I much preferred seeing her like this. An image unto itself. A woman remembered on her own.
I became obsessed with seeing how this city understood the sky as part of its very architecture. Crosses penetrated the blue on every corner.
Ducks are the same everywhere; the perfect cure for homesickness.
I love you always,
June