2026-01-02

Ema Plaque

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Wishes on Wooden Plaques at Bentendō, Ueno Park
上野・弁天堂の絵馬に託された願い


Wooden votive plaques hanging from racks are a scene I usually associate with Shinto shrines rather than Buddhist temples. Seeing them here at Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō, a Buddhist temple in Tokyo’s Ueno Park, feels like another quiet example of shinbutsu-shūgō (the historical blending of Buddhist and Shinto traditions) that I wrote about in my February 8th post on Daikokuten-dō Hall.

These wooden plaques, called ema (絵馬) in Japanese, typically feature an illustration of a horse on one side (sometimes other motifs as well), with a written wish or prayer on the reverse. While they are far more commonly found at Shinto shrines, here we see them being sold and dedicated at a Buddhist temple too.

Since the temple is associated with Daikokuten, a god of wealth and fortune, many visitors hang their ema here in hopes of financial success, good luck, success in business, a bountiful harvest, or simply good fortune and family safety.

According to Kokugakuin University, sacred white horses (shinme, 神馬) were believed in ancient times to be the mounts of the kami. Wealthy worshippers would offer live horses to shrines in order to invite the presence of the deities. As this practice became impractical, offerings evolved into horse statues, and later into painted representations of horses on wooden plaques, which we now know as ema.

The custom of dedicating ema to shrines was already widespread by the Nara Period (710–794 CE). By the late Edo period (1603–1868), the imagery expanded beyond horses to include designs related to specific shrines or their deities, with a blank space on the back for worshippers to write their wishes or words of thanks. Most ema also follow a traditional shape: a simple rectangle topped with a roof-like edge, with a hole or knot for tying them to a rack, like the one we can see in my photo.

After taking this long-exposure shot, I took a closer look at the ema themselves to see what kinds of wishes people had written. What struck me was how many were written in Hangul, Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai, and a handful in European languages, including English.

I felt a quiet sense of hope seeing that people from vastly different backgrounds, gathered at a relatively small temple in Tokyo, all expressing the same universal desires: success in their dreams, good fortune, and the safety of their loved ones.

  • Location: Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō Temple, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:42
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 160 for 5 sec. at ƒ/16
  • Classic Negative film simulation

Links to sources for a deeper dive are available at end of my blog post:
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Black-Headed Gull

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Curious Black-Headed Gulls at Shinobazu Pond
不忍池で出会った好奇心旺盛な百合鴎


The black-headed gull, yurikamome (百合鴎) in Japanese, is a relatively small bird that I have only seen in some of the larger parks in Tokyo and Yokohama. I don’t recall ever seeing them along the waterfront of Tokyo Bay, which makes sense given how much of the low-lying marshland has been filled in to make room for towering high-rise condominiums, large distribution centers, numerous docks, and petrochemical facilities.

These charming birds nest on the ground in large reedbeds or marshes, or on islands in lakes. Since Shinobazu-no-ike Bentendō Temple, where I captured this image, sits on a small island in the middle of a naturally formed pond with some marsh-like features, I assume that some of these birds may actually have nests nearby in the park.

Despite the English name, the black-headed gull (Chroicocephalus ridibundus) has a chocolate-brown head and a pale gray body during the breeding season. In winter, however, the brown hood disappears and only a dark ear-like mark remains. The three birds in my photo have orange legs and beaks, indicating that they are juveniles, as adults typically have red or bright red legs and beaks.

When photographing these three gulls, they did not seem intimidated by my presence. My camera is a rangefinder-style camera with a fixed 23mm lens, so the only way to “zoom in” on a subject is with my feet. I was quite surprised by how close I could get to capture this shot.

Fortunately, I didn’t have my border collie with me that day, as she would have gotten excited, tried to herd the birds, and ended up scaring them away.

  • Location: Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō Temple, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:32
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 400 for 1/1000 sec. at ƒ/4
  • Velvia Vivid film simulation

Links to sources for a deeper dive: 
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Kanzakura



Kanzakura: Early Bloomer in Winter
寒桜とは？冬から早春に咲く、ひと足早い桜


Kanzakura (寒桜), or winter cherry blossoms, are one of those small seasonal surprises that always catch me off guard—in the best possible way. They’re an early-blooming hybrid variety that flower for a short window between January and March, depending on the region. Their petals are a soft, pale pink, with subtle differences from tree to tree, and they feel almost out of place against the cold winter air.

Most people, myself included, usually think of cherry blossoms in terms of spring and the iconic Somei-Yoshino (染井吉野). Those are the ones that sweep across Japan every year, starting in the south and slowly moving north, turning parks and riversides into seas of white and pink. Compared to those, kanzakura feel much quieter and more reserved.

Kanzakura are among the earliest of the early bloomers, and in my experience, they’re not especially common. That’s probably why I always feel a little spark of joy when I come across one. It’s like a small preview of spring, or just a hint that winter frigidity doesn’t have much longer to go.

The blossoms themselves are slightly smaller than Somei-Yoshino, though that’s not immediately obvious in my photo. What stands out more is their gentle color and the way the flowers cluster along the branch. When they’re in full bloom, they look especially striking against the clear blue skies we often get in winter.

I took this photo in Ueno Park in Tokyo, but I only recently learned that Mitsuike Park, near my home in Yokohama, has around 78 different varieties of cherry trees, including kanzakura and another early bloomer, kanhizakura (寒緋桜). Apparently, it’s even listed as one of Japan’s top 100 cherry blossom viewing spots, which makes me realize I probably don’t explore my own local parks enough!

Digging a little deeper, I also discovered that kanzakura are more common around Tokyo and Yokohama than I had assumed. They’re not planted in huge numbers, but if you know where to look, you can find them scattered across larger parks throughout the region.

While sakura are usually associated with spring crowds and hanami parties, these winter blossoms felt different. Seeing them during the New Year holidays, in the middle of the cold season, reminded me how even a single delicate flower can completely change the mood of my day. I wasn’t expecting to see anything in bloom at all, so stumbling across these pale pink petals brought an unexpected moment of quiet joy, and a gentle reminder that spring is already on its way.

Links to sources for a deeper dive: 

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

  • Location: Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō Temple, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:21
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 160 for 1/1000 sec. at ƒ/2
  • Velvia Vivid film simulation

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

  • Location: Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō Temple, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:22
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 160 for 1/1000 sec. at ƒ/2
  • Velvia Vivid film simulation
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Daikokuten-do Hall

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Daikokuten-dō Hall: Small Details Reflecting the Coexistence of Shinto and Buddhism
神仏習合を感じさせる大黒天堂の細部


Daikokuten-dō Hall (大黒天堂) in Ueno refers to the hall dedicated to Daikokuten, the god of wealth and fortune, located within the grounds of Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō on a small man-made island in the middle of Shinobazu Pond. Despite being part of a Buddhist temple complex in such a unique setting, there are several features of the building that hint at strong Shinto influences.

In my younger years, I always assumed there was a clear line between Buddhism and Shinto, the animistic belief system indigenous to Japan. However, I later learned about shinbutsu-shūgō (the historical blending of Buddhist and Shinto traditions), which challenged that simple distinction.

Daikokuten-dō is associated with the Kan’ei-ji Temple complex, which is home to several Buddhist temples, mausoleums, and notable statues of Buddhist monks. The kami enshrined here, Daikokuten, is a deity of fortune, luck, and wealth. Interestingly, Daikokuten is an amalgamation of the Shinto god Ōkuninushi and the Buddhist Deva, which itself originated from the Hindu warrior deity Mahākāla.

What initially sent me down this rabbit hole, however, was what I noticed in the photograph itself: the Imperial chrysanthemum crest (菊紋・kikumon) on the paper lanterns and on the ornamental engraved metalwork known as unokedōshi (兎毛通) beneath the central portion of the Chinese-style gable (唐破風・karahafu). There are also clear Shinto elements, such as the shimenawa (注連縄) rope adorned with shide (紙垂) paper streamers. At the same time, it is unmistakably a Buddhist hall, marked by the cauldron-shaped incense burner (屋根付外置香炉・yanetsuki-gaichi kōro) at the base of the steps and the colorful banners draped across the façade in the Five Primary Colors (五正色・goseishoku) associated with Buddhism.

For me, this hall is especially compelling because it quietly embodies the long history of syncretism between Buddhism and Shinto—two belief systems that once coexisted without conflict in Japan. That balance was disrupted in 1868, when the Meiji government enforced the separation of Shinto and Buddhism in an effort to elevate Shinto as a state ideology and strengthen imperial authority. 

In the end, these policies were never fully realized. Daikokuten-dō, rebuilt in 1968, remains a subtle but powerful example of how both traditions continue to coexist in practice, visible to worshippers, tourists, and photographers alike; a reminder that what first catches my eye visually often leads me to stories I hadn’t expected.

  • Location: Shinobazu-no-Ike Bentendō Temple, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:18
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 250 for 1/125 sec. at ƒ/13
  • Classic Chrome film simulation

Links to sources for a deeper dive:
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Shinobazu Pond

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Shinobazu Pond: A Quiet Wetland Beneath Tokyo’s Skyline
不忍池：高層ビルの下に広がる静かな湿地


This view of Shinobazu Pond shows a section where lotus plants fully cover the water’s surface. In winter, much of the color is gone, so I’d like to return in summer, when the lotus flowers are in full bloom.

When I first visited Ueno Park, home to Shinobazu Pond and Bentendō Temple (弁天堂・Bentendō), which you can see in the distance at the center of the frame, I was completely unaware of the fascinating history behind this seemingly humble place.

During the Jōmon period (c. 12,000 BCE), this entire area,which is now about 5.27 km (3.27 miles) from the edge of Tokyo Bay, was once a vast coastal inlet. Over time, particularly throughout the Heian period (794–1185), the sea gradually receded due to regional cooling and sedimentation, leaving behind a naturally formed pond.

The extensive marshlands that remained became an important stopping point for thousands of migratory birds each year. By the 15th century, the surrounding area had developed into a small castle town and was already known as Shitamachi, a name that locals still use today.

In the early Edo period, during the 17th century, a Buddhist priest created a small island in the center of the pond and established Bentendō Temple, visible in the middle of this photograph. Around the same time, the southern portion of the pond was planted with lotus, which now fills the surface with pink blossoms each summer from July through August.

During World War II, water was drained from the pond and the area was temporarily used for rice cultivation due to food shortages. At one point, developers even proposed filling in the pond entirely to build a baseball field. Fortunately, wiser heads prevailed: in 1949, those plans were rejected, and Shinobazu Pond was restored to a form that we can still enjoy today.
 
  • Location: Shitamachi Museum, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:10
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 160 for 1/125 sec. at ƒ/10
  • Classic Negative film simulation

Links to Google Maps and sources for a deeper dive:
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Post Box

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Vintage Japanese Post Box: A Warm Design Rooted in the Meiji Era
火事に強い鉄製の朱色丸型ポスト（郵便差出箱１号）


After a short photowalk through Tokyo’s Ameya-Yokocho shopping district, I wandered into a nearby park where, near its entrance, I came across this vintage Japanese post box. Though its design dates back to the postwar years, it remains in everyday use, standing quietly in front of the Shitamachi Museum (台東区したまちミュージアム).

The continued presence of this post box aligns naturally with the museum’s mission to preserve and document the everyday culture of Tokyo’s Showa era (1926-1989). It serves as a small but tangible reminder of how ordinary objects once shaped daily life.

This particular cylindrical post box design traces its origins to 1949, when iron once again became widely available for civilian use following the end of World War II, allowing durable public infrastructure to return to cities across Japan.

Nearly eight decades later, I still encounter this style of post box in rural towns and older urban neighborhoods, and it is these small, human-centered design choices that continue to draw my attention. 

Unlike the boxy, utilitarian design of modern post boxes in use today, this earlier form feels warmer and more considerate: the softly rounded lip extending over the slot like a well-worn cap, designed to keep out the rain; the cylindrical body, less obtrusive and better suited to the narrow, crowded streets of Tokyo and other cities at the turn of the twentieth century; and the use of fire-resistant iron, painted in a bright vermilion red (朱色, shuiro), a color also closely associated with Shinto torii gates.

While my initial impulse to photograph this post box was rooted in a sense of nostalgia, standing in front of it prompted a deeper reflection on how thoughtful design, particularly from the Meiji era (1868–1912), seems to have been shaped by everyday needs. In cases like this, those practical considerations have allowed certain forms to quietly persist long after their era has passed, continuing to function as part of the modern city.
 
  • Location: Shitamachi Museum, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・14:05
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 160 for 1/125 sec. at ƒ/5
  • Classic Negative film simulation

Links to Google Maps and sources for a deeper dive:
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:

Punk Icon

If this scene speaks to you, prints and downloads are available:
・Order prints, digital downloads, or commercial licenses
・Explore gifts and merchandise

Sid Vicious Imagery in Ameya-Yokocho, Tokyo
東京のアメ横に現れたパンクアイコン「シド・ヴィシャス」


I captured the back of this leather jacket worn by a middle-aged Japanese man while he was shopping at one of the small stalls beneath the railway tracks of Ameya-Yokocho in Ueno, Tokyo. What immediately caught my attention were the vivid neon colors and the unmistakable image of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen rendered across the jacket’s back panel.

I’m not entirely sure why the image felt familiar at first, especially since I was never a devoted punk rock fan. Thinking back, it may trace to a shipmate I had in the early 1980s who was deeply into the Sex Pistols and the Ramones. I likely encountered this image on an album cover or a T-shirt during that time, even if I didn’t consciously register it then.

While researching the origin of the photograph, I learned that it was taken by Steve Emberton, a staff photographer for Record Mirror, a British weekly music newspaper published between 1954 and 1991. Emberton worked extensively during the 1970s, producing images that later appeared in television commercials, album artwork, and publications connected to major artists, including the Rolling Stones.

I’m old enough to recognize many of the musicians Emberton photographed: Cher, Blondie (Debbie Harry), Rod Stewart, Kiss, the Rolling Stones, Joan Jett, Lou Reed, Billy Idol, and, of course, Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen. The photograph of Sid and Nancy carries particular weight. Emberton has spoken publicly about the shoot, which took place in an apartment in England just a few months before both of their deaths, lending the image a haunting historical proximity.

Emberton primarily worked in black and white, which raises an obvious question: why does this image appear here in such bold, saturated color? The answer seems to lie with Mosquitohead, a graphic T-shirt brand known for reworking punk-era imagery. Their versions of Sid and Nancy introduced false color treatments that became popular in vintage punk fashion during the 1980s and 1990s, extending the afterlife of these images far beyond their original documentary context.

Ultimately, I’m drawn to this photograph for its color, the smooth, worn texture of the leather jacket, and the quiet confidence of the wearer, his collar turned up in a way that recalls pop-culture archetypes like The Fonz from Happy Days. The image unexpectedly pulled me back to my late teens and my first exposure to the music of the Sex Pistols and the Ramones, often playing in the background of chaotic barracks parties during my days in the Navy. In that sense, the photograph became less about punk itself and more about how certain images resurface decades later, in places and moments I never would have expected.

  • Location: Ameya-Yokocho, Taito Ward, Tokyo
  • Timestamp: 2026/01/02・13:46
  • Fujifilm X100V with 5% diffusion filter
  • 23 mm ISO 1000 for 1/125 sec. at ƒ/2
  • Astia Soft film simulation

Links to sources: 
Copyright Notice for All Images:
© 2011-2026 Pix4Japan. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized use for AI training is strictly prohibited.
Visit www.pix4japan.com to learn more.



Posted by at No comments:
Subscribe to: Comments (Atom)