Photo Essay 2025
As I intimated in yesterday’s article, I have continued my investigative journey throughout this year, simultaneously handling a multitude of themes. However, the axis upon which I placed the greatest weight was the inquiry into origins: How, precisely, were the Japanese mythologies recorded in the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki born?
The Kojiki and Nihon Shoki are often spoken of in a single breath, yet their fundamental ideological backgrounds are entirely distinct. While their contents may appear similar, their architectural techniques of composition differ radically. This is not a matter of superiority or inferiority; rather, it signifies that in Japan, these two oldest extant ideologies have intermingled, altering their intensity with each passing era. Furthermore, while resting upon the foundation of these two texts, there exist the Fudoki—compilations of ancient local oral traditions produced in the same epoch—as well as the Sendai Kuji Hongi, which conveys traditions predating even the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, alongside countless other texts chronicling the ancient world.
Consequently, there is likely no single correct view. I have come to feel that the only valid art is the technique of integrating these texts with multifaceted considerations—archaeology, history, folklore—under one’s own volition, while physically visiting the sites and patiently deciphering the land itself. Now that Artificial Intelligence has permeated the social fabric to this extent, nothing but primary information holds any weight.
Thus, on this day, the final day of 2025, I had initially conceived yesterday to narrow down the theme to a fragment of this vastness and present it as a photo essay. I had even begun to write this morning. However, I altered the composition. With gratitude to the readers who have followed my words throughout this year, I decided to lay bare the entire process—however fragmentary the disclosure may be—exclusively for my paid subscribers. Consequently, this text has grown voluminous. Yet, it is my hope that you will traverse it slowly, accompanied by 56 photographs curated from the more than 7,000 images captured at the sites I visited during my inquiries this year. To me, travel is inquiry, and inquiry is travel. I peruse literature, certainly, yet I treat it merely as a reference, placing little faith in it. Rather, I place my utmost trust in what I see with my own eyes, hear with my own ears, and—standing upon that very ground—sense with my own heart.