This one is from a memory I share with my brother who lived briefly in a shady pachinko overrun town named Juso near my apartment in Japan.  His first night in the country he dropped his stuff off at his place, then came over to my place to stay the night.  When we tried to re-enter his apartment the next day we met a painter who had covered  the entrance to the building to paint and refused to let us in.  After many attempts to sneak around us, and try to use our broken Japanese to convince him that my brother lived upstairs we realized that we were in the wrong building and that my brother’s apartment was in an identical building across the street.  After that, the painter became a criminal mastermind in our stories and everything that went wrong in our lives we pretty much blamed on “the painter of Juso”

The painter of Juso

The painter of Juso

Corel Painter. 1 hour.

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