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    A masked Marine Rouge deckhand pulls a thick mooring rope with both hands.
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    The intersection at Honmoku St. leads towards Yamate Tunnel (1).
    The intersection at Honmoku St. leads towards Yamate Tunnel (2).
    An iconic cafe sits along Yamate-Hondori.
    An old man walks his dog.
    Who?
    1/5
    Intersection at Honmoku St. towards Yamate Tunnel.

    These places aren’t landmarks—not even spots people would photograph. But I visit them 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. Then I realized 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.

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    An old man in a checkered shirt walks through a town square with an Alpine hotel and a mountain cliff behind him.
    An old man in a dark coat and beret looks out over an autumn city with a river and historic buildings.
    A city worker in an orange safety vest rides a cargo bicycle at dawn in front of misty mountains.
    In black and white, an old man sits alone at an outdoor café table with a Sunstar hotel sign behind him.
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    Reject "no country for old men"—as old men built the country.
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    An old signboard stands out among the clutter at a pottery workshop in Tokoname.
    A beauty resides in the unexpected.

    I took this shot a few years ago while walking around a pottery workshop in Tokoname, Aichi. The place was chaotic—scraps and random stuff everywhere—but this old signboard caught my eye. It stood out against the mess around it.


    On reflection… something that stands out and catches my eye like this might be often around me—even right in front of me. But I somehow miss it. Perhaps because I’m moving quickly, my mind is elsewhere, or something like that.

    What if I slow down a little—giving myself a moment to be present, unhurried, and open? Could I notice things like this more often?

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    A person jogs on a clear morning with historic Yokohama buildings in the background.
    A person reads on a bench in Yamashita Park with the Yokohama Bay Bridge and a blue sky behind them.
    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 while 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—a matte effect where the shadows don’t go pitch black.

    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 look 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.