In the dark, someone is willing to carry a lamp.

I am Jason Shadow. Some people call me 大衆府の老爺.

When I was young I gave my body to rhythm. Later I gave my days to machines and a company, and on the same road I gave my voice to the stage. Stacked together, that is more than twenty years. A life holds many kinds of weather. I do not rush to sort them. I pick them up, one by one.

Some doors opened late at night, over work that was supposed to be only technical. Cards on the table, a chart gone quiet. I have looked for a long time. Not to make tomorrow certain — to see how a person sits in the part of life that has no light.

I have walked the deep valley of feeling. There is no sign for the way out, and I will not pretend I have left. Perhaps that is why I recognise the quiet in others who are standing somewhere similar.

I do not mean to drag anyone into morning. I am only willing to hold a lamp, stay for a while, and wait until they have the strength to walk again. That is why I make music, write quotes, scripts and novels: to turn each experience into a different story, melt it into rhythm, and let it enter performance.

The lamp does not have to be bright. If you come in, the shop is still open.