How I love to drift off to sleep in cars and on trains. But invariably, when they stop, I wake up. Someone once told me that the reason moving cars and trains are so soporific is because they subconsciously remind us of the time we spent inside our first-ever mode of transport, which was, of course, our mother.
Talk about a free ride! Those were the days . . . well, I guess they must have been. When I try to envision myself way back at the start of it all, I don't want to picture a gooey glob floating in a sack of placenta. In my imagined womb scrapbook, I would much prefer to find the dreamy visions of Chiho Miyamoto.
Miyamoto, 32, is a Kanagawa-based artist who now has a jewel of a show at Gallery Chika, a great but almost impossible to find little spot in Tokyo's Shibuya Ward.
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