About this

Portfolio of an anonymous photographer.
Based in Tokyo, I take a photograph of something somewhere from my own point of view.

About me

blue graphy

IT Engineer, Photographer, Male, 40s.
I started taking photos in 2019 after encountering beautiful scenery in Hokkaido, Japan.



2023.12 - My room
Camera Gear

Leica M11 (2024/01-)
RICOH GR IIIx (2023/09-)

- Owned in past -
SONY a7R III (2019/08-2023/12)


Leitz Elmar 3.5cm F3.5
Leitz Elmar M50mm F2.8

- Owned in past (SONY E Mount) -
Voigtlander APO-LANTHAR 35mm F2 Aspherical
Voigtlander MACRO APO-LANTHAR 65mm F2 Aspherical
SONY FE 70-200mm F2.8 GM OSS II
TAMRON 28-75mm F/2.8 Di III RXD
TAMRON 70-180mm F/2.8 Di III VXD
SIGMA 150-600mm F5-6.3 DG OS HSM
SONY FE 85mm F1.8

A Story of Beginnings

"The Phantom Bridge"

Did you know that there is a bridge in Japan called "The Phantom Bridge"?

Often featured in the media, it is located north of Lake Nukabira, a reservoir in the Tokachi region of Hokkaido. Although now abandoned, the bridge was originally an arch bridge built across the lake to transport timber by rail, and was given its name because it can be completely submerged depending on the season and water level. To visit this bridge, one must travel along a restricted forest road, either by obtaining prior permission for vehicle passage and driving, by walking from a distant location, or by joining a guided tour organized by a local NPO.

I work in IT in Tokyo. I joined my current company in my late 20s, and it's been more than a decade since then. In recent years, I have had more opportunities to travel to Sapporo as part of my job. Up until then, I had almost never left the city center, just shuttling between the airport, the office, and my hotel. However, in the early summer of 2019, I decided to take a few days off after a business trip and explore different parts of Hokkaido. I didn't want to see anything in particular, I just felt like walking around. While researching where to go, I happened to learn about the existence of this bridge and was immediately interested, so I signed up for a guided tour.

On the morning of the tour, the sky was unfortunately cloudy. About 10 participants received a short briefing at the meeting point and then piled into two vans to drive to the lake shore. Many people prepared their bulky DSLR cameras and took pictures of the scenery along the way, but at that time I only had an iPhone, and I felt a little envious of those who were equipped with powerful equipment, thinking, "Even though it's such a Phantom Bridge, I only have poor equipment. While I was thinking about such things, the car arrived at the destination, and from there we walked down to the bottom of the lake and approached the bridge through the stumps of trees that were probably cut down during the dam construction.

The gradual appearance of the bridge was truly fantastic.

The concrete structure that had been standing there for nearly 80 years was now decaying, and the gloomy weather added to the indescribable sense of loneliness. Moved by the extraordinary scenery of scattered stumps and a geometric arched bridge, I forgot all about my meager equipment and took many photos. At that time, I didn't even think about wanting a DSLR camera, but I realized that I had taken more photos than usual on this trip and I'm sure something about my relationship with photography was born within me at that moment.

After that, I traveled around the magnificent grazing fields of Tokachi, the beautiful hills of Biei, and visited a museum on Ainu culture in Hidaka, making it a fulfilling solo trip. Finally, I stopped by a cafe by the sea in Niikappu at the end of the trip, and took a casual photo there which, looking back now, was nothing special, but for some reason it left a deep impression on me. I kept looking back at the photo, thinking it was a good shot. In the end, I think that this one photo was one of the big reasons that led me to buy a professional camera later on.

After returning to Tokyo from the trip, I often looked at the photos I had taken and gradually became interested in photography. I started to browse websites about photography and watch equipment introduction videos, and before I knew it, I had bought a fairly high-end Olympus mirrorless camera. The first shoot after buying the camera was at an event held at Zojoji Temple in the Shiba area of Tokyo, but at that time I didn't really know how to use it and just took pictures while looking at others with cameras. Since then, I have gone to Tokyo and the surrounding Kanto area to take photos, mostly with my wife. As a side note, my child, who has finished compulsory education, seems to prefer playing with friends and hardly ever comes with me when I invite her. When I tell my subordinates or colleagues at work about this, they tease me as if I am already retired, but it's actually quite enjoyable. We go to places we want to go, experience the history and culture, see beautiful landscapes and cityscapes, take photos, and eat delicious local food. It's wonderful, isn't it?

It's a feeling of gradually learning how to use and take photos with the camera and coming to the present. By the way, I have a camera history that may seem odd but in a way, it could be considered normal, as I had no sense of economic rationality and ended up buying a used Sony full-frame camera for my wife just a month after purchasing the first Olympus camera. If it weren't for my solo trip to Hokkaido, I probably wouldn't have had any interest in photography or cameras even now. One of my big future pleasures is going to the elusive bridge and that cafe with my family and taking photos again with the "ultimate equipment." I sincerely hope that my child will come with us at that time.
(Autumn, 2019)