Tied and untied. Pulling it in took more than letting it go.
スナップ
This was my first time fishing at sea—I only ever fished in ponds or rivers before. And it had been a long time since I last went fishing too.
So much fun and so much sun (hot)!
- 1/5
Intersection at Honmoku St. towards Yamate Tunnel. These places aren’t landmarks—not even spots people would photograph. But these are places I visit every time I’m in Yokohama. I discovered them through two beautiful songs I heard in middle school—songs with music videos set in these exact places.
I remember the first time I visited, I put on my headphones, played both songs, and just stood there for some time—lost in nostalgia until the songs ended while realizing I was standing in beautiful places because of those songs—places I once only knew from a screen. I don’t have a word for what this is. People might call it manifestation—something I don’t believe in. Whatever it is… it is—at least to me—sentimental!
Now, every time I visit, even without playing the songs, I still find myself standing there and letting the memories find their way back.
It’s always sentimental Yamatecho.
Minato Mirai Terrace Building. - 1/4
Reject "no country for old men"—as old men built the country. 
A beauty resides in the unexpected. I took this shot a few years ago at a pottery workshop in Tokoname, Aichi. The place was chaotic—scraps and random stuff everywhere—but this old signboard caught my eye. I found it stood out against the mess around it.
Come to think of it… something like this might happen quite often—a small thing catching the eye, the way that signboard did. But it’s very subjective. Like… what stands out to me might mean nothing to anyone else—and vice versa. Even what stands out to me, I might still miss it—could be because I’m moving quickly, my mind is elsewhere, or something like that.
If I slow down a little—giving myself a moment to be present—I might see things I usually miss. But of course, it’s not a guarantee—just a chance.
Perhaps that’s what noticing is—being present, unhurried, and open.
Footsteps echo and pages turn—a lovely morning in Yokohama (2023). These two photos are completely different, but they have some similarities. These were my first experimental shots in exploring my visual style. Inspired by the editorial aesthetic of 90s magazines—that soft, matte look often associated with film photography. I’ll call it vintage magazine here.
The main pattern I noticed in the vintage magazine style was low contrast—creating a matte effect where the photo doesn’t go pitch black in the shadows.
Unlike the typical vintage magazine pattern, I set the sharpness a bit higher here because I found it more appealing.
I’ve also added some grain—big fan of it. It makes the photos feel a bit old, but it fits the vintage feel I was going for.
I used VSCO for editing. At the time, I didn’t want to spend too much time on complex color grading.
