The subject of this lyrical docu-drama is a monk, walking very slowly among the typical rush of Ginza's Sunday afternoon. Taking his small, yet deep steps, the monk looks like a monument of silent rebel among the busy, hurried steps around his almost slo-mo movements.

Now, imagine you're on a train. You can see how the world passes away from your train window. You sit there and wonder about the impressive visual feast: while you sit still on your train, the train moves against the background. Yet you feel that it's not you who moves, it's your surrounding which passes away. The nearby trees passes away so quickly, and farther in the background the fields move away very elegantly. Then you see the mountain, and the mountain almost stay there, only moving some millimetres away in one minute. Look at the sun: the sun stays there, not moving away at all. Just like the monk.

Being travelers, each one of us has a certain place where we want to travel to. Physically speaking, this monk - serene among the frenziness - is not getting anywhere. I wonder how far this monk is from the place he longs to be. Is he close enough? Can he get anywhere with his meaningless steps?