Kazuhei Kimura's fifth photobook, after two privately published books and two from aptp. In 2020 he turns his camera on people and landscapes that should be close to him and shows the distance that arises between them. Sometimes a person, an animal or a landscape that is meant to be near suddenly feels far away, bringing loneliness, uncertainty and untouchability, as if a wall of glass stood between you; photography quietly reveals the existence of this glass. It is not a depressive account: it is sad, but there is also a certain brightness in the distances of intimacy. Photography here is neither taking away nor a daily record, and the sadness and dazzle of the distance that affection creates are quietly burned in, a distance that seems a form of respect for the people and moments photographed. Most of the pictures were taken before 2018, and the book is itself a new window offered to the viewer.