"The quality that we call beauty, however, must always grow from the realities of life."

Following a tour of three Zen gardens in Kyoto, the guide shared an essay written by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki in 1933, titled In Praise of Shadows. In it, he contrasts the Japanese appreciation for the subtlety and transience of dimness and darkness—and the beauty and mystery they evoke—with the Western preference for bright, harsh ambiance.

"We delight in the mere sight of the delicate glow of fading rays clinging to the surface of a dusky wall, there to live out what little life remains to them. We never tire of the sight, for to us this pale glow and these dim shadows far surpass any ornament."

His perspective ties closely to the Japanese concept of Ma, which describes the importance of negative space—between objects, or between moments in time. It’s a principle deeply embedded in Japanese art, architecture, language, and interaction. Ma is the intentional interval that creates balance and flow in life.

There’s no shortage of flash and awe in this bustling island nation.

But so much is said in what isn’t.

The slow closing of the eyelids that lets you take in the delicate details on the animal's face—the creases, the stillness, the way the water holds on his hair.
The muted blinking of red obstruction lights across a sea of Tokyo skyscrapers.
The bow from the Shinkansen conductor to his successor on the platform.
The people paused at a crosswalk—no cars in sight—waiting for the light to turn green before taking their next step.

These subtle, fleeting moments stay with you long after you leave.

The pale glow that keeps me coming back.