A series that consciously focuses on the distortions and disruptions of meaning that occurred when the names of places in Hokkaido shifted from their original Ainu names to being written syllabically in Japanese katakana at the end of the feudal period in the mid-nineteenth century, and then to being renamed in logographic kanji, and that attempts through images to intervene in the identity of the place. As the poet Paul Celan wrote, the individual things within a name are related to the world while also belonging to us: when a place (Ort) is included in a word (Wort), the name often aspires to a place that is nowhere, as opposed to a particular place. Tsuyuguchi's photographs, shot as what he calls fragments peeled off the landscape, ascribe both proximity and distance between incident and location, and can be read as nowhere places, ungraspable and disconnected from a particular event. While exposing the arbitrary translations involved in the formation of Hokkaido's names, the book induces cracks in the landscape and asks what it means to name a place, what it signifies when names keep shifting, and what this brings to the landscape.