I've had my driver's license for almost two years now. Driving is something I do every day, and I continue to be impressed by the comfort of being in my own space and on the move at the same time. Lately, I am happy when the music I listen to while driving matches the rhythm of the turn signals of the car in front of me.
Then the other day I experienced my first violation. I was driving to her parents' house with my partner in the passenger seat. Perhaps because of a construction jam, I followed the directions on Google Maps and took a different road than usual. At a complicated five-way intersection that I was driving through for the first time, I came to a complete stop from a side street with no signal, turned onto the main street, passed the arrow signal, and was soon stopped by a police car. I was ordered to enter the parking lot of a nearby supermarket, and then an officer approached me. I listened to him with a big question mark on my face because I was not at all aware that I had committed any violation. According to him, there was another signal between the side street with no signal and the arrow signal on the main street, and I had run that red light. I was completely unaware of this. I looked at the map and checked the intersection. Yes, there was another signal that I had apparently missed. I couldn't help but say, "This is impossible! This must be a notorious intersection for people in the neighborhood and an easy trap for the police.
I couldn't deny that I had broken the law, and I had to admit that I had gotten so used to driving that I was a little distracted. I was sorry and thought I would be more careful. However, the haughty, fast-talking and arrogant attitude of the officer left me with the feeling that something didn't feel right. I wondered how many of the cars passing through this intersection for the first time would make it through correctly. What is the romance of catching tuna in a place where it is so easy to catch it? Such a poor analogy came to mind, but perhaps everyone would be happy to catch tuna, no matter how easy it is.
I left the policeman and went to a convenience store to withdraw 10,000 yen, and then to the post office to pay the fine of 9,000 yen. When I got the change, it was the first time I saw the new 1,000-yen bill. Shibasaburo Kitasato danced with a straight face. What is this feeling? I had to laugh at this unknown feeling.
Days later, I visited the intersection as a memorial and a reminder to myself. I parked my car in a nearby parking lot and took some pictures with my GR while looking at the intersection. Looking at it again from the car, it did not seem so difficult, perhaps because there were more cars passing than at that time. However, during that short period of time, several cars passed without obeying the signal. It turned out that I had entered the street at the most difficult time of the signal change because there were no other cars or people there at that time. The photo turned out to be like a scene investigation, but maybe this is the kind of photo the GR is good at taking. I got in my car, stopped, turned onto the main street, stopped at the red light, and drove home.
Kazuhei Kimura
Born in 1993 in Iwaki, Fukushima. Lives and works in Tokyo. While working in the fields of fashion, film and advertising, he continues to create works that move back and forth between his childhood experiences and his present life. Won the Judges Encouragement Prize (selected by Nozomi Himeno) at the 19th Photography 1_WALL and the Grand Prix at IMA next #6 ‘Black&White'. Major solo exhibitions include 'Ishi to momo (Counterpoint)' (Roll) in 2023 and 'Atarashii mado (The Other Side of the Window)' (Book and Sons) in 2020. Major photobooks include 'Sodemaku' and 'Todai' (both aptp) and 'Atarashii mado (The Other Side of the Window)' (Akaakasha).
Kazuhei Kimura (@kazuheikimura)
