Walking is good. Walking is an uplifting activity. It helps me encounter things, like flowers blooming on the side of the road or a charming little lost object. Or so I used to think, but one day I suddenly wanted a car. Like a second room? A mobile room of one’s own? Might not be a bad idea. I’ve always strived to be light, but I may be able to find joy in owning something big and bothersome. Observing my friends with their own cars, I note that they have all found their specific cars to satisfy their individual needs. What would be mine? I searched the city and the internet and dreamed of such a car, as the days passed without finding one.
It may have been after two years, but it (or love) suddenly came into my life. My purchase will remain a secret, but I will divulge that I found the interior of the car to be very chic, in different shades of gray. I probably rode shotgun the most when I was in elementary school when my grandfather would pick me up from my lessons. There was something that reminded me of that car—the slightly dry dustiness or the smell of the sun-worn seats.
And my car also had a cassette tape player.
Cassette tapes. I had heard that they were making a comeback amongst music aficionados. But I had just discovered Spotify. There was no turning back—or so I had thought. Thinking I might as well embrace this chance encounter and start listening to tapes, I was quickly converted.
Noisily sticking a cassette tape into the player and riding the streets while listening to music that sounds like it’s hollow in the middle, I’m overcome with a feeling that I’ve always been riding this car. I wonder if my parents kept their Mariya Takeuchi, Tatsuro Yamashita, and Yumi Arai tapes. I’m going to have to ask next time I’m home.
Written & Photographed by Natsuko Yoneyama / Graphic, Editorial Designer