It would be wrong to call the life they led simple, as their hearts and minds lacked no complexity or richness, it was rather that the rain or cold humbled them in a way that has become foreign to us. The simplicity of their lives could be felt in the balance of all things, in the sense that something given asked not for something to be received. To them a tree did not loose a leaf, it simply fell downward, completing its lifecycle by nourishing the soil.
Conflict is no stranger to any world but anyone in search of something might encounter the unthinkable. The pursuit of the unknown is neither good nor bad, it is rather a question of a world with or without pyramids.
It was in surprisingly close proximity to their existence that they found what had been, up to that moment, kept by the wilderness. A glimpse of the old and powerful, bridging the gap to something suddenly imaginable. It was not the idea of sovereignty that inspired them, it was rather that it is not in our nature to leave a lone hat on a bench untouched. It is the naive and unintentional tingle of excitement that is the beginning of all, though the fate of a tangent lingers heavily above and rests carved in stone.

80 pages, printed on Hahnemühle Ingres Büten paper Chinese/Japanese binding