Shadows on Concrete

Light bends differently in a city. It bounces off glass, filters through steel, disappears into alleys, and softens across cracked sidewalks. The most ordinary street can suddenly become a canvas when the sun cuts across it, leaving sharp shadows on concrete.

Shadows are drawings made by absence. They take the shape of fire escapes, bicycles, traffic lights, and trees. They flatten the world into black and white, reducing clutter into clean, graphic lines. In a single glance, the city becomes minimal.

At ichinichi.studio, shadows often guide design. A line of fire escape stairs becomes geometry. The grid of a window turns into structure. A passing figure dissolves into silhouette. What is fleeting in the street becomes lasting on fabric.

Concrete is not just surface — it’s memory. Each shadow that crosses it leaves an invisible trace, a reminder that the city is alive and always moving.

To notice shadows is to notice time itself — the city’s way of marking hours without a clock.