The Memory

Every year, when April arrives, it carries me back to my childhood in Japan, to the quiet neighbourhood where cherry blossoms bloomed in gentle abundance around my home.

I don’t remember those moments clearly anymore, only the feeling they left behind. Petals drifted slowly through the air like soft memories, marking the arrival of spring not only through what was seen, but through what was felt. It existed only for a brief moment, yet something about it stayed with me.

This cherry blossom collection was created as a way of holding onto those memories, the tender colours of pale pink and innocent white, the sweet, almost weightless scent carried on the breeze, and the quiet calm that settled beneath the trees. Rather than simply documenting the blossoms as they appear, I try to hold onto what they feel like. I’m drawn to their quiet elegance, the way they seem almost as if they are daydreaming in the gentle light.

There is something deeply gentle about this season. It arrives quietly, filling the air with colour and light, and then disappears before we realise how quickly it has passed. Through these photographs, I hope to preserve that fleeting feeling, the tenderness of a season that never stays for long, and the quiet echoes of childhood it continues to carry.