Photographs taken by Ayako Mogi on her peregrinations through Europe and Japan with her young family. The only recognisable event may be the birth of one of her children, but the book is less a record of particular events than a meditation on the course of moments that make up a life, and the images are accordingly abstract, focusing on experiences such as a shared meal or a rainy day. Their impressions are intentionally hard to categorise. Mogi writes that within the foggy, indistinct scenes that appear in ordinary life she has tried to listen to soundless voices, feel thoughts that fail to find words and see invisible presences. We live our usual lives in a world full of such riddles, she says, as if it were no big deal, the cats, the crows, the weeds, the trees, the bread, the children, nameless experiences that simply are and then cease to be; with her gaze fixed on what disappears, she points boldly: look, here it is.