Dear readers, a few days ago I posted a story about rubbish. That got me thinking about Japan’s long and fascinating relationship with trash, and my futile attempts at rescuing furniture from the street (fade out) The other day I found a 1.5-meter-high wooden cabinet in the street near my house. It was beautiful, apparently in good enough conditions, and I soon figured out all the things I could cram into it. But first I had to ask permission to drag it home to my boss (i.e. my beloved wife) and predictably she said no.
Junk Paradise Lost
Junk Paradise Lost
Junk Paradise Lost
Dear readers, a few days ago I posted a story about rubbish. That got me thinking about Japan’s long and fascinating relationship with trash, and my futile attempts at rescuing furniture from the street (fade out) The other day I found a 1.5-meter-high wooden cabinet in the street near my house. It was beautiful, apparently in good enough conditions, and I soon figured out all the things I could cram into it. But first I had to ask permission to drag it home to my boss (i.e. my beloved wife) and predictably she said no.