Kushiro, Hokkaido. The vision of Japanese cranes stretching their wings in a field of snow, the red on the crowns of their heads reinforcing the thought of them as a manifestation of Japan, is breathtakingly beautiful. In the bitter -20°C cold of early morning, they stand silent and still on the river, filling the depths of my heart with the beautiful, fleeting strength of life. How much of this wildness do we humans have left? Shutting myself up alone in my workroom to finish a project, I think about this question, and feel as if I have turned into the crane-maiden weaving her cloth as like the Japanese folklore "The Crane’s Gratitude"