From Cherry Blossom Chaos to Art Shrine: How Japan Inspired Me (and Ruined My Wallet)

Alessanara
4 days ago
4 min read

Updated: 1 day ago

There are places that drive you into creative madness with the force of a gentle bamboo fan. Japan was exactly such a place.I arrived with two suitcases, many expectations, and a half-empty sketchbook in my mind.

I left with four suitcases, an emotional explosion of blossoms in my head, an inspiring burnout, a mental enlightenment, and a credit card bill that still makes my bank account weep.

But it was worth it. Oh, it was so worth it.

A shrine, a wish,

a dose of sacredness

AAt the Benzaiten Shrine in Kyoto, I stood there with a serious expression, a wind-tossed fringe (thanks to the breeze), and a fragile hope in my chest that maybe something bigger was waiting for me.

I did what an artist does when far away from everyday life: I prayed for inspiration.

For new ideas, for the courage to change, maybe also for a bit more motivation to finally finish those half-painted canvases.

And what can I say? The goddess delivered. Not with a golden beam of light or a mystical bird sign — but with a quiet, warm calmness whispering: "You are here. And that is enough."

Art overload in book form:

An attack on my synapses

It started innocently. A Japanese bookstore. A little time. And then: BAM! Ido Jakuchu.

This book hit me like a caffeine-crazed octopus. The animal motifs? Beautiful, intricate, so obsessively detailed it bordered on madness.I stood there, carefully flipping through the pages and knew: I had to do something with natural-colored canvas. Something that whispers, not shouts.

Something that sneaks into your subconscious, offers you tea, and stays forever.

Spoiler: I bought it. And then two more.

Right next to it were Illustration Books 2024 and 2025 – full of contemporary Japanese artists, manga-inspired styles, color explosions, absurd perspectives, and character designs straight out of a dream.

My brain started a PowerPoint presentation with 37 new project ideas while I was still wondering how to get all this home without hyperventilating at customs ;_).

Of Jellyfish, Bunnies & Other Explosions of Inspiration

And then there were the animals.

Everywhere.

But not just animals—cute, inspiring, emotionally manipulative creatures with model potential. The bunnies on Bunny Island? I swear one of them winked at me. The deer in Nara? Absolute pros at posing. And the aquarium in Kyoto? Let’s just say: I fell madly in love with a bunch of jellyfish and was this close to adopting every single one of them.

These animal encounters did something to me. They didn’t just make me squeal—they truly inspired me. So much so that my next painting will definitely be dedicated to one of these beings—maybe a bunny with temple wisdom or a goldfish with existential depth. Who knows? The sketches are already whispering.

The calm, the blossoms, and the controlled madness

Japan is strange. In the best way imaginable.

It’s so clean you feel perpetually guilty as a Western European. Seriously. Nature isn’t just present — it’s lived. In designs, rituals, everyday life, and art.

And then there’s this calmness. Even in big cities, there’s a sense of peace, like somewhere in the background, someone’s quietly going "shhhh...".I don't know if it's "something magical" or truly something sacred, but: it works.For the first time, I understood what "mindful creativity" could mean. And that my constant inner stress might just be a German export product.

The cherry blossoms? Absolute madness. They rain down on you while you think, "I should paint this scene, on silk, with real gold leaf, and Koto music in the background. "Spoiler: I took photos instead. 174 photos. In three hours. #artistproblems

And yes, blossoms are a huge part of Japanese painting. With good reason. They do something to you. Suddenly, you want to use delicate colors, even if you're usually the "black-red-contrast-is-my-life" type. For a moment, I almost started working with pastel chalk on rice paper and considered rebranding myself as "Sakura Whisper Art."

Kawaii is art. Period. And therapy too.

Another thing I love: Kawaii designs. They smile at you everywhere.On packaging, street signs, in cafés, and temples. Everything is somehow cute.

While your inner German realist wonders, "Is this really necessary?", your inner child has already bought 20 sticker sheets and is planning a DIY bullet journal with fox ears.

Kawaii makes serious things lighter. Maybe we need more of that in art: The courage to be playful, to be silly, to be unreasonable.Not every piece must reflect existential abysses. Sometimes, a smiling bear holding a matcha tea is enough to make the world better for three seconds.

Tosaiga. My new art crush. (Sorry, old favorite styles.)

I spontaneously visited an exhibition of Tosaiga – a style combining ancient techniques with modern motifs. And I was... blown away. So much so that I bought postcard sets like they were survival supplies.

As a thank-you for the very high price I paid, I received a beautiful sketchbook as a gift.

This sketchbook now lies with me. Still untouched. But it doesn't just lie there. It waits. It looks at me, whispering: "Dare. Create something new. And make it beautiful."

I feel that things will emerge there that would never have existed without this trip. Maybe plant creatures with golden veins. Maybe a whale with floral tattoos. Maybe a melancholic Japanese raccoon gazing into the sunset. I don't know yet. And that's the beauty of it.

Conclusion: In love. Changed.

Full of ideas. Totally broke.

Japan gave me a creative kick in the butt – wrapped in silk, scented with cherry blossoms, topped with an origami heart, and delivered with a very kind but firm look. I have ideas, new techniques in mind, a different sense of composition, space, color, and emotion – and a newfound respect for the blend of nature, art, everyday life, and sugar-coated creatures.

I don't know if I'll ever fully understand Japan. But I will paint it. Again and again.

And who knows — maybe right now, another artist is praying at the Benzaiten Shrine.For inspiration. For change. For art.

I hope she feels as blessed as I did.

PS: Yes, I also bought some cheesy souvenirs. No, I regret nothing.