Landscapes change their expression according to one's feelings at the time, and I chase scenery that has passed through that filter of emotion. I become sensitive to a kind of smell — not the kind felt through the nose but the kind felt with the heart, the smell of a town, of people, of life — and I set out, relying only on that sense toward unknown places. There may be nothing where I am going, but if I dare to go I meet something I had not imagined; when my feeling and the scene before me come into tune, I want to release the shutter. A photograph becomes private, I think, only through the relationship between the photographer and the image.