When I was young, my dad asked me to read a really thick book: James Clavell’s Shogun. I still remember how they said earthquakes was normal, that the Japanese just use wooden structures to easily rebuild. I also remember how they don’t have an actual word for love, but just a word that closely describes it: duty. And most importantly, I remember honor, and how it was exemplified with their samurais–you are either captured by an enemy or break some rules from their code, you use a sword and slit open your belly. So after my trip to Japan, my dad asked me to draw him a samurai. This was my illustration, (after almost nine months of the trip).
