大好きな場所 / My Favorite Place POSTER

Name: My Favorite Place POSTER
Brand: S.T,N.E.
Price: 3300 JPY
Availability: InStock

As I was creating the S.T,N.E. store, I started to feel that the walls needed something—maybe a piece of art. When I mentioned this, Inochi from TRUCK casually suggested, “Why not draw something yourself?” The way he said it so lightly struck me as amusing.

Recently, I’ve been rediscovering the quiet beauty of film photography. So I decided to capture the scene on film. A friend introduced me to Matsumoto Camera, and when I explained what I wanted to do, the owner said, “If you buy one roll of film, I’ll lend you this camera. Give it a try.” And so I took on my first shoot with a classic Leica.

Toward evening, I got on my motorcycle and headed for a mountain peak on the northern edge of Osaka—a place I’ve been visiting for more than forty years. With only a short stretch of daylight left, I managed to shoot an entire roll, thirty-six frames, before the sun slipped away.

What I wanted to capture was the horizon, where the mountains stack and fade in layers. I’ve always loved how the colors thin out the farther they go. I’ve often stood there just watching, and I wanted to hold on to that view.

It was my first time using a camera from the 1950s, my first time even touching an exposure meter. Compared to shooting on a digital camera or an iPhone, film forces you to face each frame more deliberately. The sound of the shutter, the weight of it—it all made me feel, suddenly, like a real photographer.

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For the development, everyone pointed me to Mr.Sei at Silver Halide Monochrome Lab. I handed him the film, nervous to know if anything had turned out, and waited. Then came the message: “They all look great.” Relief washed over me. From the thirty-six shots, I chose two and had them enlarged on baryta paper. One of those prints became the basis for this piece. Beneath the image, I added just a few words: “Layers of Mountains.”

Now, whenever I look at it from a few meters away, my eyes drift into the distance, as though I’m standing there again at the mountaintop. Most days, our attention stays close at hand. But every once in a while, lifting your gaze outward can bring a quiet kind of reset.

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