What Feels Ordinary May Be Someone Else’s Dream
The way Japanese people look at Europe, and the way Europeans look at Japan, often feels strangely similar to me.
Even though the cultures, languages, histories, architecture, and ways of living are completely different, there still seems to be a quiet admiration flowing both ways.
Many of the people I meet in Denmark tell me how much they love Japan.
They speak warmly about past trips, or excitedly tell me they are planning to visit someday.
And whenever I hear those conversations, I sometimes wonder if we Japanese people don’t fully realize the beauty of the landscapes we grew up with.
My husband has often said that even while walking through Shibuya — the neighborhood where I lived for many years — he feels something unique in the atmosphere itself.
He talks about how old and new things naturally blend together in Tokyo, and how the energy of such a massive city feels deeply inspiring to him.
But honestly, because I lived there for so long, I never fully understood what felt so extraordinary about it.
If anything, I’m the one who becomes mesmerized simply by walking along the cobblestone streets of Europe.
The colors of old buildings.
The changing seasonal light.
The quiet atmosphere of the streets.
When I lived in Japan, those scenes felt almost like landscapes from another world.
But after living abroad, I’ve slowly started to realize something.
What feels ordinary to me may be a special and dreamlike landscape to someone else.
The glow of convenience stores late at night.
Crowded signs layered across the streets.
The sound of trains and the movement of people.
For someone else, even those everyday scenes of Tokyo may hold beauty and nostalgia.
And at the same time, I continue to admire the streets and atmosphere of Europe from afar.
Perhaps people are naturally drawn to places, air, and ways of living that still feel slightly out of reach.
And maybe that is why I now want to continue creating while quietly carrying both Japan and Denmark within me.