The Day I Met a Bookmark That Sparkles Like a Star: Returning to "Tohon"

Honey-colored sunlight pours down from a soft sky that looks as if pale light-blue ink has been dissolved into it.

The air is so mild that it is hard to believe the forecast of snow in a few days; as I walk, my body warms up, and I take off my scarf and gloves.
I sway on the train while thinking of the seasonal word 'ume-biyori' (a perfect day for plum blossoms). Looking at the sky through the window, I remembered that the day I headed to Yamatokoriyama last year was also clear and sunny.

The day I learned of the existence of "Tohon" in Nara, sparked by Iro-san's article about the snow letterpress bookmark. The day I took trains from Kyoto to welcome the work into my hands, because Mitchi-san was exhibiting bookmarks at the "11th Bookmark Exhibition" held at that place I had longed to visit, and it was my first time visiting Tohon.

As I cherished the memory, which was wrapped in a joy like a spring breeze, the sight of white plum blossoms flowed past my eyes.
Was it because the bookmark I was about to go meet was on my mind that their lovely appearance looked like stars for a moment?

*****

I want to go to Tohon again when February comes.
One day, while I was thinking that, a notification like a shooting star fluttered down onto my timeline.

A warmth that gently wipes away tears,
delicious treats, and a gentle smile.
The chatter of adorable bears,
and the suppleness that turns pain into the colors of a rainbow.

Kuma no Muffin-san, who weaves pictures and words that make your heart feel round just by touching them. What the shooting star delivered was the news that this person I love so much would be exhibiting bookmarks at the "12th Bookmark Exhibition."

Feeling happiness spread through my heart, I opened my planner and saw that the first day of the exhibition was a day I had off from work.
I'm going to go pick up your friends.
I whispered softly to the child sleeping wrapped in a blanket on the cover of a small ZINE.

*****

As I walked the path from the station through the shopping street, greeting the goldfish living on the banners and manhole covers, I arrived in front of the quietly standing wooden lattice door.

The round orange light glowing inside the window caught my eye, and the sight, unchanged, made me feel at ease.
Perhaps because it was warm, the sliding door was left open.
On a small platform near the entrance, books like "Gift Books," "Winter Books," "Ice," and "My Lonely Sunday" were lined up, painting a marbled pattern of winter's coldness and gentleness.

The moment I stepped slowly into the shop, I thought, 'How nostalgic.' The scent and warmth of the stove seeping into the air. I listened to the singing voice spilling quietly from the ceiling. It was a voice that was transparent, yet carried the soft, sorrowful color of a cloudy spring day.

The hanging mobile and the goldfish in the tank were swaying to the melody of a Spitz song.
After enjoying that scene for a while, I turned my gaze to the right end of the platform where the bookmarks were lined up, and a voice beckoned to me, saying, 'Here I am.'

I couldn't help but squint my eyes, because the bears looked so comfortable, wrapped in the gentle atmosphere that fills Tohon.
I whispered in my heart that this was the seat next to where Micchi's bookmark had been resting last year.

Watching the bookmarks submitted by 38 different people lined up, I felt truly glad that I was able to come here again this year.
The fact that my favorite shop is still there, that I can go to the places I want to go when I want to, and even the fact that I can feel like reading a book—these are not things to be taken for granted; they are surely small miracles.

In the corner where Atsuhiro Yoshida's books are lined up, colors like dappled sunlight dance softly.
Next to them, Katsuhiko Nishio's poetry collection sings with a smile, and right nearby, moonlight shines from Akira Kusaka's collection of works, while "The Dictionary of Stones" and Kenji Miyazawa's words cast a clear radiance.

It was as if, while dozing off, I had wandered into a coffee shop where familiar people gather.
There are many bookstores I love, but I know of no other place where books relax and breathe as deeply as they do at Tohon.

It is hard to leave, but I must head home soon, taking with me the bookmark and the books that will become its friends.
An essay that weaves together tones swaying in the dawn light, and a small white collection of essays reminiscent of snowlight through a shoji screen.
While waiting for them to be covered in book jackets, I admired the beauty of the cover of "The Night Tree" on the top shelf and thought, I will come again.
With the star-twinkling bookmark and today's memories tucked away in my bag, I left the shop and entered the grounds of the nearby tutelary shrine, where a sweet scent suddenly drifted by.

Red plum blossoms standing out clearly against the pale sky.
With the hint of spring lingering in the air amidst the serenity held in my fingertips, I headed to the main hall to express my gratitude for the connections made.

*****

I remember my childhood days, when I couldn't fit into the gritty reality and books were my only emotional support.
Reading a book meant being all alone.
Back then, when that lonely time was my salvation, I never dreamed that a day would come when I would be savoring the texture of a bookmark like this,
thinking of the smiles and kindness of people far away.

Stitched silver stars, glittering sparkles. The colors of ink bleeding softly together, and the warmth of paper against the skin...
And the adorable figures of the bears, and the poetic words written on the back that nestle close to my heart like the moon and stars.
Every time I open a book and our eyes meet, I think:
I am happy to have met you.

*****
Bookstore Tohon "12th Bookmark Exhibition" is
from Friday, February 6, 2026 to Wednesday, February 25, 2026
(Closed on Thursdays)

Information on the Bookmark Exhibition and
a list of exhibitors can be found here