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When the Singing bowl rings like a cymbal, the world in that room stops time and begins to move.
The voice is a flashlight that illuminates the labyrinth, a lifeline that keeps one from falling off a cliff, and sometimes an eye mask that blocks one's vision.
Many cities have rooms where mantras are chanted.
In most cases, the room's inhabitants have compelling reasons for chanting.
I think it is a typical Tokyo scene.
I think the act of chanting and the act of dancing to rock and roll are very similar.

Artist Profile

  • Mr.Morick

    It all started that night. The night I passed a man in Roppongi who looked exactly like Kanye West. Something changed in my brain - and I still don't know what. Just like the time I suddenly became allergic to cats with no warning, melodies began to pour into my head out of nowhere. On the train platform during my commute, tunes bubble up straight from my brain. I panic, pull out my phone, and open Voice Memos. Every day, I pretend to be some casual guy humming while calling a client - but really, I'm secretly recording the music in my head. The stares from high school girls walking past are absolutely brutal. Still, once I hit play, any trace of embarrassment vanishes. I shake with emotion, thinking the same thing every time: "This is a masterpiece." Honestly, I don't really know what I'm trying to do. But one thing is clear. Starting today, I'm Mr. Morick. I'm a rocker.

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