A new home: A world apart
Japan has always held a deep fascination for me, but it wasn’t until I set foot on Awaji Island that I truly felt something shift—a connection that felt like coming home. Nestled in the Seto Inland Sea, Awaji Island is a place of quiet beauty, rich history, and a rhythm that seems to flow with the tides. Despite being thousands of miles from where I was born, this island and the seas surrounding it have become an enduring source of inspiration for my art and my spirit.
Awaji’s landscapes are a perfect embodiment of Wabi-Sabi—the Japanese philosophy of finding beauty in imperfection and transience. The island itself carries a history that weaves between myth and reality, being regarded as the birthplace of Japan in Shinto legend. Walking along its shores, I often feel a sense of continuity, as if the land and sea are telling a story far older than anything I could capture on canvas.
The Naruto Whirlpools, just off the southern tip of Awaji, are a spectacle I never tire of. These swirling, ephemeral vortexes embody the raw, uncontainable energy of the ocean, a reminder that nature is both powerful and fleeting. I’ve spent countless hours studying their movement, attempting to translate that chaotic elegance into ink and paper, much like the Ukiyo-e masters before me. The act of painting them is meditative, a process of surrendering to nature’s rhythm rather than trying to control it.
Beyond the physical beauty of Awaji, it is the people and culture that make it feel like home. There is a quiet kindness here, a hospitality rooted in tradition but offered with genuine warmth. Whether it’s a fisherman sharing stories of the sea or a craftsman explaining the intricate process of making Awaji roof tiles, I am always learning—absorbing fragments of this place that inevitably find their way into my work.
Perhaps what draws me most to Awaji is the sense of balance. It exists between the land and sea, the past and present, the seen and unseen. It reminds me that my art, much like my journey, is not about seeking perfection but embracing the organic flow of life. The cracks, the tides, the unfinished strokes—all are part of a larger, more profound narrative.
Though my passport says I belong elsewhere, my heart tells me that Awaji is just as much home. Each visit deepens that connection, solidifying my belief that home is not always where we are born but where our soul finds resonance. And so, I return, again and again, letting the waves, the wind, and the whispers of history guide my hand and my heart.
