For forty days, I split my time between ancient craft and primal pursuit. Mornings were spent shaping kigumi—traditional Japanese joinery—carving interlocking joints without nails or glue, each cut demanding precision and patience. The scent of hinoki cedar filled my workshop, echoing centuries of craftsmanship. By afternoon, I’d trade chisels for a bow, tracking deer through misty forests. The stillness of the hunt mirrored the meditative focus of joinery: both required reading subtle signs, respecting materials, and moving with quiet intent. In those weeks, wood grain and wilderness blurred into one rhythm—a harmony of creation and survival, discipline and instinct, all bound by the quiet discipline of forty deliberate days.
