A land devoid of sea...

A land devoid of seasons weakens people’s perception of time and renders existence itself loose and unmoored. Day after day of the same kopi and Hainanese chicken rice, the self sinks into the constant, humid heat. People need change and tension, a certain anxiety and anticipation for “things that have yet to happen,” to feel the verdant vitality and vigor of spring and summer, to appreciate the beauty of mono no aware amid the desolation of all things quiet, and only then can one hold expectations for the revival of the following year.