On March 11, 2011, I experienced the Great East Japan Earthquake in Miyagi Prefecture, where I had moved after marriage.

A sense of unease filled my chest, and from deep beneath the earth, I heard a goooooo—a sound unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
A massive earthquake was coming. From that sound resonating from the depths, I felt that it would be a tremor unlike any I had ever known.

At the time, my child was only two years old. That day, they had a slight fever and had just settled down for a nap. Sensing the imminent danger, I immediately picked up my child, turned on the TV, went to the entrance, put on my sneakers, and returned to the living room with my shoes still on. The tremors were gradually intensifying.

Despite the growing intensity, there was no emergency alert.
Then suddenly, the power cut out with a snap.

The shaking was beyond anything I could have imagined. I clung desperately to my child. The sheer magnitude and duration of the tremors made my legs tremble uncontrollably.

Startled awake, my child screamed loudly, kicking wildly in panic. I had no choice but to hold on, standing with all my strength.

Fear gripped me as the shaking continued endlessly.
In a hoarse voice, I pleaded, “Please, stop already!”

At that moment, my child, realizing that even I was afraid, suddenly stopped kicking and clung to me tightly.

When the shaking finally subsided, I took a deep breath and looked around the house.
The devastation left me in shock.

With the TV inoperable and my cell phone barely functional, I had no access to information.  I only learned later of the massive tsunami and the countless lives lost.

A few days later, I was given the solemn task of writing memorial wooden tablets for the deceased. Reading the papers that listed their names, addresses, and ages, I carefully inscribed each name.

As I went through the list, I began to see glimpses of their families.
Here, a father…
There, a child…
I could see how their families had been torn apart.

Among the names were those of small children.

I couldn’t stop my tears.
How terrified they must have been…
How much they must have suffered…

Imagining my own child in their place was unbearable.
The very thought of losing them was too much to even consider.

I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude for the precious gift of life.

After that, I began to seriously reflect on my own life.

Marriage and motherhood had distanced me from my dreams.
But life is uncertain. We never know what tomorrow holds, nor how long our time will last.

I decided to once again walk the path I had once aspired to.

The earthquake taught me so many things:
The preciousness of life,
The irreplaceable nature of time,
The deep bonds that transcend family,
The power of love.

We humans exist within nature.

That night, after the disaster, anxiety loomed over me as I spent the evening alone with my child.

We had only one small flashlight.
To conserve the batteries, we kept it off unless necessary.

At one point, I opened the curtains.
The stars shone so brightly.

It was then that I realized—
The stars had always been pouring their light upon the Earth.

Under their gentle glow, I felt a strange sense of calm.

 "The stars shining in the night sky on the day of the great earthquake"

We are sustained by the vast embrace of nature.

Life is fleeting yet infinitely precious.

I want to cherish each breath I take and live with gratitude.

May those who survived find happiness.
May their strength to live be rekindled.
May they find the power to take steady steps forward.
May those who returned to the heavens rest in peace.
May people all around the world find happiness.

Prayers transcend time and space.
May they reach endlessly, infinitely far…

With these thoughts in my heart, I let my brush guide me.