Ōmine San Hike
Filmed during my second visit to Japan in the summer of 2024, I was based in the Kansai region and planned to hike Ōmine-san. Due to severe weather, I caught an early train from Osaka to Ōyodo, where transport staff warned that road conditions were too dangerous, leaving a taxi as my only option from the station. The taxi took me to the village of Dorogawa, from where I continued on foot along rain-soaked roads towards the trailhead.
Halfway along the route, I stopped at a small temple where a monk offered me a map and guidance on which paths to follow. I found his advice reassuring and continued my journey. When I later reached the cemetery marking the official beginning of the trail, he was there again, wishing me well and explaining that the mountain offered alternative routes for those seeking more of a challenge.
The ascent began through dense pine forest, darkened by the storm. Wooden steps climbed steadily through towering trees, while waterfalls echoed in the distance, amplified by the rain. Slippery log bridges crossed steep drops into the forest below, demanding careful footing. Alone on the trail, I remained focused as the conditions intensified. As the trees thinned and the wind picked up, the landscape became increasingly exposed. At one rocky peak, powerful gusts nearly tore my Skelclaw cap from my head, threatening to carry it into a fog-filled ravine below.
Beyond this point, the route grew more demanding. Flat rock faces required rope-assisted climbs, made especially difficult by wet, slick surfaces. Moss-covered structures and narrow paths added to the challenge, while dense fog obscured much of the surrounding landscape. Eventually, I reached the summit temple. Inside, a monk advised against completing a full loop due to poor visibility and the risk of falling from the mountain’s edge. I followed his advice and began the descent the way I had come.
By early evening, I returned to the cemetery and made my way back to Dorogawa. With the help of kind locals, I was able to arrange a taxi back to Ōyodo—avoiding a long walk and missing the final train to Osaka.
Woodblock Carving/Printing Process
For my first woodblock print, I was happy with the result. I used my knives for the first time since purchasing them in Tokyo back in 2023. Unfortunately, early in the carving process my hand was a little too forceful, and I ended up chipping my only small chisel knife (which I have since replaced for future projects).
The carving process largely went as planned, although over-carving caused small chips of wood to break away near the finger closest to the thumb. Once the carving was complete, I began the printing process. I was largely working from what I had seen online, particularly videos by David Bull, watching how he conducts his printing process using sumi ink, nikawa glue, and water. However, when I later showed him the SkelClaw print, he explained that nikawa glue is only necessary if you want a glossy finish, so I most likely won’t be using it in upcoming near-future designs.
Each print came out unique. Initially, I had imagined clean results with sharp lines and no unexpected blotches, but the opposite happened. At first, I wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or to embrace the individuality of each piece. Considering it was my first time using a baren, and as David also explained, this variation can occur when the carving depth is uneven—something that makes sense, as some areas of the block were carved much deeper than others.
With all of this in mind, I move forward with confidence into my next set of prints, coming in the near future. I would still encourage those who appreciate woodblock printing to purchase one of the ten prints currently available on my site. I’ve priced them as affordably as possible, as one of the core principles of woodblock printing is making art accessible to the masses, rather than producing a single one-of-one piece. Keeping this print limited also rewards those who have believed in my work from the beginning. Any support helps me continue, and helps keep this art form alive for younger generations like myself.