It’s just me and the only Fragonard in Tokyo, deep in the steel-concrete heart of a 1955 Le Corbusier elongated cuboid. This is for my next book, These New Fragilities, so no more about this on Substack for now but consider: our strange interchanged modernities! All factory line and rebar and brush stroke and works of the hand transfigured by machine, by distance, by language, by time… occidental-orient blowup signifieds herded like unruly sheep in deep green hills.