Sunday in Naka-Meguro, the last paper-roll before Shanghai

The atelier was cooler than I remembered. The north-window-bay holds the daylight steady from one-thirty until four, which is the only reason I keep coming back to that warehouse-second-floor on the Meguro-gawa-bridge-third-south side. I had Hana there from quarter-to-three.

Paper-roll in cool-grey, then a matte-black canvas, a Mamiya RZ67 on the tripod, a single Profoto bounce off the south-wall scrim. The first set-up came clean by the third Polaroid 669, which is rare enough that I noticed. Hana stands the way some people sit. She gives you the picture before you've finished asking.

I like Naka-Meguro on Sundays. The street is quiet, the bridge has the right kind of bored couples, the small coffee-stand on the south-corner stays open until five. I walked past it on the way back to the train and didn't go in. I should have gone in.

Yui-san, the new junior, adjusted the bounce-scrim every six minutes whether it needed it or not. I let her. She is at the stage where the worry is the work. I remember that stage.

Tuesday is the JW Anderson capsule close. Four cards from this Tokyo session go in through three different coordinator-hands. The work is done. Now it is just the email at the right hour.

Tomorrow morning I am on the Shinkansen-Haneda-shuttle, then the noon flight to Pudong. I packed the Mamiya tonight. The 4x5 Sinar stays here, the atelier-keeper Aiko will keep it dry until June.

Naka-Meguro at six in the evening looked the way it always looks on Sunday: green at the bridge-railing, the river slow, a man with a small white dog standing on the third-south corner reading something on his phone. I stood for a minute. The light went.

Shanghai tomorrow. Different daylight, different paper-roll.