Not just four seasons.
72 moments worth noticing.

Known as Shichijūni-kō — 七十二候, the system grew from China’s 24 solar terms, each divided into three kō. In 1685, court astronomer Shibukawa Shunkai reshaped the sequence for Japan. The official calendar later changed. The habit of noticing did not.

Our modern calendar is excellent at measuring time — and remarkably poor at describing it. Weeks, quarters and deadlines tell us where we are on a schedule. They say very little about what is changing around us. The kō pay attention to temperature, light, water, plants, animals and harvest — not one dramatic event, but a pattern of small signals.

72 Seasons turns that old way of noticing into a contemporary photographic journey. From September 2026 to August 2027, I am following each micro-season as it arrives, responding with one photograph made along the way — where I live and where the journey takes me.

72 seasons. 72 photographs. One year. One edition.

The first 10–15 seasons will define the visual language in the field, not on a moodboard. From there, the project opens gradually: field notes, selected work, an early community — and eventually a crowdfunding campaign that becomes part of the journey itself.

At 72 / 72, the year becomes a physical object: a freestanding tear-off calendar, a photographic edition, and an archive of one year spent looking more closely.