“Unlocking the Secrets of Japan’s Print Renaissance: What You Didn’t Know About the Artisan Revival”

"Unlocking the Secrets of Japan's Print Renaissance: What You Didn't Know About the Artisan Revival"

In a world where the hustle and bustle of city life often overshadows the serene beauty of rural existence, have you ever considered what lies beyond the chaos? For me, a journey that began in New York City would lead to a quaint farmhouse in the mountains of Shizuoka, Japan. With pen in hand, I embraced the essence of a culture steeped in simplicity and connection to nature—little did I know that my passion for writing about this enchanting life would culminate in my debut feature for the Japan Times, launched into the world on April Fool’s Day 1979! This article delves into the rich tapestry of my experiences and observations, revealing how the quiet rhythms of farming families can resonate with all of us amidst our fast-paced lives. Join me as we explore this long, winding road where each turn holds a story, and perhaps a delightful surprise awaits at the end. LEARN MORE.

A long road started a long time ago

With my family in 1983, around the time of my first column deadline (Photo credit: Masahiro ÅŒmura)

I was born and raised in New York City. My home, is and has been, in Japan since 1975.

Choosing to live in the rural province of Shizuoka, from the very beginning I absorbed the culture, immersed myself in the life around me, and wrote about it, in longhand. Later I borrowed a Smith-Corona and typed out essays about Japanese country life not knowing if they’d ever get into print.

My first essay would appear in the Japan Times — Japan’s oldest and largest English-language newspaper. I submitted a piece that was four times the 500-word limit — and they accepted it. (I am not presenting this as example to follow!)

They asked for photographs, and printed it as a feature article in the Sunday edition of the paper, April 1, 1979.

In that article I simply wanted to tell readers about the place where we lived, in an old farmhouse at the top of a mountain. Our view was a panorama of bamboo groves, terraced rice paddies, mountains, and endless sky. A hamlet of farmers, there were exactly three neighboring households. These were people who lived in houses they built from trees cut from their own land, people whose lives were carried out in a quiet continuum with the seasons.

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