Over the past 90 days, I published four YouTube videos — the most consistent I’ve ever been on the platform.

Two were photographer interviews.
Two were about my own photography.

Are you curious how much zine sales those videos actually generated?

Today, I’m sharing the real numbers — with screenshots.

🎁 I Received a Beautiful Gift

Recently, my three-week exhibition at BAR Shikatanaine in Shinjuku came to an end.
Thank you to everyone who came. It meant a lot to drink together, talk, and connect in person.

And Ema @ema_3.8 , who traveled all the way from Italy, gave me a beautiful gift.

This is a darkroom print he made.

At first, I thought it was two different photos printed on a single sheet. But when I saw the original negative, I realized it was actually one single image.

By using the window frame and cropping carefully, he created a photograph that feels like two frames within one.

Ema — thank you for this unique print.

Go follow his work and support his creative journey.
👉 @ema_3.8

🚨 Monthly Zine + Darkroom Print Vol.02 — Orders Close in 2 Days

To everyone who purchased Vol.01 — thank you. I’ve been receiving messages from around the world as copies begin to arrive, and it truly makes me happy.

Now, the deadline for Vol.02 is approaching.
Here’s this month’s print:

A place at the edge of the world.
A deserted, forgotten landscape where no one seems to go.
What kind of world lies beyond that dark sky?

In the darkroom, I used burning techniques to deepen the sky and the sea, pushing the mood darker — expressing that sense of distance and isolation I felt while standing there.

As always, this is printed on fiber paper.

Orders close March 5 at midnight (Japan time).
$31.5 with free shipping (monthly plan; one-time option available).

If you’ve never seen one of my fiber prints in person, this is your chance.

👉 Details here

📺 Is YouTube Actually Good for Promoting Zines?

Now, I’d like to share the zine sales generated through YouTube over the past 90 days.

In a previous newsletter, I wrote “You Don’t Need Followers to Sell Zines.”
And while I still believe that, let’s be honest — if you want your zine to reach more people, having an audience helps.

But what matters more than followers is supporters.

Zines are different from polished photobooks. They’re more like mixtapes — raw, immediate, imperfect. I believe that if your passion is inside, that’s enough.

But who actually pays for that passion?

The people who want to support your work.
And I’m deeply grateful to everyone who supports my work. Truly — thank you.

If you’re selling your zine — not just giving it away — you need to communicate clearly why someone should buy it.

Instagram, as the name suggests, is instant. No matter how much energy we put into a post, it rarely reaches people deeply.

So over the last 90 days, I focused on YouTube.
I published four videos.

FAR EAST DARKROOM by NUTS TOKYO

As of March 2, they’ve reached a combined 20,000 views.
My channel has 6,000 subscribers — and about half of the viewers were new.

Reaching new audiences like this is powerful. It gives creators a real chance to show their work to people who’ve never seen it before.

And now — sorry to keep you waiting.
Here are the sales numbers generated from those four videos:

Over 90 days, YouTube generated $1,285 in revenue (including shipping).
The real impact is likely higher, since not all sales are perfectly trackable.

This revenue includes sales across FED, not just my own zines.
The best-selling titles were Yu Chang’s photobooks. We sold 50 copies total — 25 each of two editions — and they all sold out. The first 30 copies sold out just five days after the YouTube video was published.

He told me he wants to produce a new photobook this year. I believe this revenue meaningfully contributed to his goal.

From a business perspective, $1,285 might not sound huge.
But for independent creators?

For me, this result was incredibly encouraging.

I still have a lot to learn about making videos. But this experience made me want to study YouTube more seriously — and help bring more photographers to the world stage.

And once again, to everyone who purchases from FED and supports independent creators — thank you.

📮 What’s Next for This Newsletter

I have one more update.
We’ve just added a new zine by Tokyo-based photographer Milo to FED, the platform I run. Be sure to check it out.

Estancia - Milo

Including myself, we’ve now introduced the work of 17 photographers 🎉

The scale may still be small.
But I’m proud that we’re not just posting photos online — we’re delivering them physically into people’s hands as zines. And more importantly, helping photographers generate income from their art.

Looking ahead, I’ve been thinking seriously about the future.

Whether it’s under FED or a separate brand, I want to build an online community for people who are serious about photography — making zines, making prints, and having real conversations about building a creative life.

To grow that vision, I’m committing to learning more about digital marketing — including YouTube and Instagram strategy.

So this newsletter will gradually expand beyond just zine-making. I’ll also share what I’m learning about growing creative projects sustainably.

If there’s anything specific you’d like to learn about, just reply to this email. I read every message and respond whenever I can.

Thanks for reading until the end.
See you next week.

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Here’s a quick update on what the first two months of the year have looked like for me as a photographer:

• Exhibitions / Events: 3 (January: ZINE FEST TOKYO / February: BAR Shikatanaine, Tokyo Streets X)

• Zines published: 2 (Shinjuku Kaleidoscope / Monthly Zine Vol.01)

• Zines currently in progress: 2 (Stay tuned.)

• Darkroom prints: around 40 (Mainly for Monthly Zine supporters)

• YouTube videos: 1 (Watch here)

Not a bad start, right?

🚨 Monthly Zine + Darkroom Print — Vol.02 Now Available. Limited orders until February 28

Last month I launched my Monthly Zine project, which includes a handmade darkroom print with each issue.

Vol.01 received far more support than I expected — I even used up all the ILFORD 5×7” fiber paper I had at home. Time to restock.

For Vol.01, I created a custom header card using one of my own photographs, punched holes by hand, and designed it so it wouldn’t feel like just a newspaper — but more like a physical object, something closer to a product. I’m honestly very happy with how it turned out.

Almost all Vol.01 orders have now been shipped. If you’re waiting, it’s on its way.

And starting today, Vol.02 is officially available. Get your copy here.
Orders are open for about 10 days only — until February 28.

This month’s print is this:

It was photographed in a wetland in Hokkaido.

I had been scanning Google Maps, searching for landscapes that felt like “the edge of the world.” When I saw this place — land that seemed to simply end — I felt a pull. I needed to see what was there.

When I arrived, the wooden pier was nearly broken, no one was around, and the place felt almost post-apocalyptic — like a scene from the afterlife.

In the darkroom, I burned the sky to deepen the mood, pushing the print toward a darker, heavier atmosphere — to match what I felt standing there.

What lies beyond that broken bridge?

Through this photograph, I hope you can experience that edge-of-the-world feeling for yourself.

This will be also printed on fiber paper. The full set — zine plus darkroom print — is $31.5 (for monthly subscribers).
There’s no other way to get one of my fiber prints at this price.

If you’ve been thinking about it, now’s the time.

Order here →

This month’s zine will also include:

• Behind-the-scenes stories from my January and February shoots
• Moments from my recent trip to Shanghai
• Several new photographs taken there

I arrived in Shanghai around 5 PM for a transit stop — and left at 7 AM the next morning. A true one-night stay.

With such limited time, what kind of images could I make?

You’ll see inside Vol.02.

🪐 TOKYO STREETS X at WPU Hotel, Shinjuku

Until February 22, I’m exhibiting at a photography and art event hosted by Tokyo Streets at the WPU Hotel gallery in Shinjuku.

It’s free and open to everyone.
I’ll be there almost every day — come say hi.

• Location: WPU Hotel (MAP)

• Dates: February 17–22

• Hours: 11:00–20:00

• Reception Party (Saturday): 6 PM – 10 PM

Hope to see you there.

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

You carefully edited the files, exported the PDF, and finally sent everything off to the printer.

But when the printed zine arrived at your home… the colors looked strange. It was darker than expected. The overall quality felt disappointing.

Have you ever experienced that?
Before blaming the printing company, you might need to better understand how to properly prepare your files for print.

This edition will be especially helpful if you’re about to make your first zine — or if you’ve made zines before but always feel unsatisfied with the colors.

Table of Contents

• 🚨 NEWS: My Contact Sheet Zine Has Surpassed 200 C …

• 🎨 Print Basics: Understanding RGB vs. CMYK

• 🧑‍💻 How I Edit My Photos for Zine Printing

  • Adjusting Saturation and Luminance in Lightroom (C …

  • Lifting the Shadows in Lightroom

  • Final Color Adjustments

• 🔥 The Final Print-Ready File

• 🏫 A Photobook Documenting High School Life on a N …

🚨 NEWS: My Contact Sheet Zine Has Surpassed 200 Copies Sold

Thank you so much to everyone who continues to support my work.

My contact sheet zine has now sold over 200 copies. In addition, both 404 NOT FOUND Vol.1 and Vol.2 are officially sold out. That means a total of 650 copies from the 404 series are now out in the world, in someone’s hands.

When I first created the 404 zine, I never imagined it would reach this many people. There are currently no plans for a reprint. To everyone who picked up a copy — thank you, truly.

And if you still haven’t gotten the contact sheet zine, now might be the time.

👉 Check my zines 👈

🎨 Print Basics: Understanding RGB vs. CMYK

Before making a zine, there’s one thing you absolutely need to understand: the difference between RGB and CMYK.

Most of us edit our photos on a computer. On your screen, colors are displayed in RGB (Red, Green, Blue) — the additive color system based on light.
Because screens emit light, they can display vibrant, glowing colors — even neon-like tones — beautifully.

On the other hand, when you print a zine (or anything on paper), colors are created using CMYK — Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, and Black ink.

To be honest, you don’t need to get overly technical about RGB this and CMYK that.
The only thing you really need to remember is this:

Screens create color with light (RGB).
Paper creates color with ink (CMYK).

That’s the fundamental difference.

When you layer light, it becomes brighter — eventually turning white. When you layer ink, it becomes darker — eventually turning black.

Because of this difference in how color is created, the range of colors (color gamut) that ink can reproduce is narrower than what light can display.
That’s why the colors you see on your screen will almost never look exactly the same once printed.

But don’t panic.

Once you understand how ink behaves, you can prepare your files properly for print — and get much closer to the result you want.

🧑‍💻 How I Edit My Photos for Zine Printing

Let me walk you through how I prepare image files for my zines.

I’ll use this photo as an example. It’s a shot I took at an event — a woman smoking, captured in profile. I loved how the background was lit in orange and green. The artificial light created a really beautiful contrast.

But if I printed this photo exactly as it looks on screen, those colors would lose their magic.

I haven’t actually printed this exact original file, but based on experience, I can already predict what would happen:
The orange would likely turn dull and muddy, and the shadows would block up, making her expression harder to read.

That would completely ruin the night atmosphere I’m trying to convey.

Photos like this — especially ones lit by artificial night lighting — are extremely difficult to reproduce accurately in print.

Just remember this:
Print will almost always look darker than your screen.

Paper doesn’t emit light. It reflects ink.
So when I prepare files for print, I often push the vibrancy and brightness further than feels “correct” on screen. Sometimes it even looks slightly overdone on my monitor — but that’s intentional.

Let’s look at the actual process.

Adjusting Saturation and Luminance in Lightroom (Color Mixer)

First, I adjust the main color — in this case, orange.

To prevent it from turning muddy in print, I go into Lightroom’s Color Mixer and tweak the Saturation and Luminance of the orange channel. I increase both slightly to make the color brighter and more vibrant.

Then I move on to the secondary color — green — and adjust it in the same way using the Color Mixer.

Lifting the Shadows in Lightroom

Shadows are another problem area in print.

Shadows don’t reproduce the same way in print as they do on screen. That’s why I lift the shadows in Lightroom to make the overall image brighter before sending it to print.

Final Color Adjustments

Adjusting the shadows slightly reduced the vibrancy of the green areas, so this time I tweaked the Tint just a bit to bring it back.

After printing over and over again, I’ve learned that greens like this are especially difficult to reproduce accurately in print.

🔥 The Final Print-Ready File

Here is the final print-ready version of the image after editing.

Print-Ready File

Of course, this comes down to personal preference — and honestly, on screen I still prefer the original photo. The colors feel richer and more natural.

Original Image

But when you compare them side by side, the difference becomes clear. The print-ready version is brighter, and the shadow areas are more visible and defined than in the original.

Editing every single image like this might feel tedious. But there’s nothing worse than receiving a box full of freshly printed zines — only to realize you’re not happy with how the photos look. Trust me. It’s worth the extra effort. Give it a try.

That said, even after making these adjustments, it doesn’t guarantee the colors will turn out exactly how you imagined. Instead of printing 50 or 100 copies right away, start with just one copy — or even just a few selected pages as a test print — and check the colors carefully.

And don’t forget: when exporting your PDF, make sure to set the color mode to CMYK, not RGB.

If you have the time and budget, repeat this test process. Refine it step by step until you arrive at the version that truly satisfies you.

Also, keep in mind that this workflow is simply how I approach making zines. If you’re planning to produce a full-scale photobook, I strongly recommend working directly with a professional printing company and going through proper color proofing with them.

If you have your own tips for preparing print files, feel free to share them in the comments. I’d love to hear your process.

See you next time!

🏫 A Photobook Documenting High School Life on a Nikon EM — Now Available at FED

If I had owned a camera during my high school years, I definitely would have documented everything.

Photos from your student days can only be taken during that time in your life — the after-school moments spent doing nothing with classmates, the friends who make funny faces the moment a camera points at them, the sports events, the small everyday scenes that now feel deeply nostalgic.

Hajime is 18 years old. He created a photobook titled A RUDE AWAKENING, documenting his own high school life.

This book is his debut publication, produced as a hardcover edition using money he had saved since childhood from otoshidama — the Japanese New Year tradition where children receive small cash gifts from their families. By investing those personal savings, he chose to turn his first body of work into a physical book.

He is now studying photography at university, continuing down this path.

His debut work is now available at FAR EAST DARKROOM.
A rare book you won’t easily find elsewhere — make sure to check it out.

👉 A RUDE AWAKENING - Hajime Matsumoto 👈

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Since last Sunday, I’ve been holding a solo exhibition in Shinjuku, and things have been pretty hectic—so this newsletter went out a bit later than usual.

The reason is simple: I made a brand-new zine specifically for this exhibition.

The show opened on February 1, but I didn’t start working on the zine until January 26. To make it in time, I had to submit the final data to the printer by the end of the next day, January 27. That meant I had just one day to do everything.

I was honestly worried it wouldn’t make it—but somehow, it did. Here’s the zine I ended up making.

A massive 128-page volume. The people of Shinjuku — Tokyo’s city of desire.

This time, I want to walk you through how I made it in one day (actually, about six hours)—from the workflow to the real problems that came up along the way.

📝 Quick update:
If you ordered the Monthly Zine with Darkroom Print, everything is on track to ship around Feb 10. Thanks for your patience — you’re all amazing!

Table of Contents

• The Editing Took Just 6 Hours

  • ⏰ January 26, 10:00 PM: Selecting Photos in Lightr …

  • ⏰ January 26, 11:00 PM: Starting the Layout in InD …

  • 📝 Why I Use InDesign

  • ⏰ January 27, 2:00 AM: Title and Statement

  • ⏰ January 27, 2:30 AM: Exporting the PDF — Trouble

• 🎉 The Zine Arrived in Time for the Exhibition

The Editing Took Just 6 Hours

⏰ January 26, 10:00 PM: Selecting Photos in Lightroom

On January 26, I suddenly decided to make a zine for the exhibition. When I looked at the clock, it was already 10:00 PM.

There was no time to overthink it. I decided on the theme immediately. Since the exhibition was at a gallery bar in Shinjuku, the theme had to be Shinjuku.

I opened Lightroom. Normally, I’d create a dedicated folder for the zine and carefully add candidate images. But this time, even that felt like a luxury.

Instead, I scrolled through my photos chronologically and exported anything that felt like it could fit the theme. I exported more than 150 images to a local folder.

It was still only 11:00 PM. A good pace.

⏰ January 26, 11:00 PM: Starting the Layout in InDesign

Next, I opened InDesign.

When I’m working on layout and sequencing, I usually reference other photobooks or zines. But this time, there wasn’t enough time to pull ideas from multiple books.

While selecting photos in Lightroom, I realized this zine had a similar vibe to one specific photobook: 90 Nights by Meisa Fujishiro.

90 Nights documents Tokyo’s club scene in the 1990s. John Sypal wrote a great review of it—if you’re interested, definitely check that out.

The book focuses more on people than landscapes, and you can really feel the heat of the night. That matched exactly what I wanted to do with this zine. So I decided to follow a similar layout approach.

90 Nights by Meisa Fujishiro

The layout rules were simple:

• No margins. Photos fill the entire page.

• Horizontal images are either placed two-up on a single page, or shown large across a full spread.

I also borrowed the sequencing idea:

• The first few pages feature strong, iconic images that grab the reader.

• Toward the end, quieter images appear—like the night slowly coming to an end.

It’s the flow of a night out at a club: excitement on the way there, drinks, peak energy—and then the calm that comes when it’s almost over.

On top of that, I layered the chaotic energy of Shinjuku, which became the core of this zine.

I kept placing photos in InDesign, one after another.

Some of the images were black and white. When black-and-white photos are printed as color in on-demand printing, the blacks can sometimes turn slightly purple. To avoid that, I converted each black-and-white image to grayscale.

In InDesign, I selected each photo, chose Edit Original in Photoshop, converted it to grayscale, saved it, and moved on.

📝 Why I Use InDesign

By the way, I know people use all kinds of tools—Photoshop, Canva, and more. I heard that InDesign was the standard for book layout, so I started using it and never really looked back.

Compared to Canva, InDesign has a few clear advantages:

• You can instantly switch between edit view and trimmed preview (on Mac, just press Shift + W).

• Even in preview mode, the center line is visible, which makes spreads easier to visualize.

When you’re printing a zine, you also need to account for bleed—usually about 3mm beyond the final size. If you don’t, you risk white edges appearing after trimming.

InDesign makes it easy to handle these print-specific details efficiently, especially with shortcuts. That speed really matters when you’re on a tight deadline.

My actual InDesign editing screen

⏰ January 27, 2:00 AM: Title and Statement

Four hours in, after checking the flow over and over in preview mode, I finished placing around 100 photos. Including the cover, the zine ended up being 128 pages.

But there was one problem: I still didn’t have a title.

As I reviewed the sequence, I realized something. Even if you walk the same streets at night, the scene changes completely depending on your angle—Shinjuku is like a kaleidoscope.

That word, kaleidoscope, felt perfect.

It was 2:00 AM. There was no one I could ask for feedback. I asked ChatGPT what it thought, felt good about it myself, and decided on the title Shinjuku Kaleidoscope.

I then wrote a short statement to match the title.
(For the record, I started working at 10:00 PM, and by this point I’d had about three cans of beer.)

⏰ January 27, 2:30 AM: Exporting the PDF — Trouble

Everything looked finished in InDesign.
I exported the PDF for printing. While it was exporting, I had a cigarette and reviewed the flow one last time.

Then I went to the printer’s website, selected the page count, quantity, and specs, and paid.

Here were the specs:

• Printing: On-demand

• Binding: Perfect binding

• Paper used:

  • Cover — Matte Coated 135kg (Gloss Lamination)

  • Body — Matte Coated 110kg

If you’re curious about zine paper, make sure to check this out too.

Then I uploaded the PDF. That’s when the problem hit.
The printer I usually use has a 3GB upload limit. My file was 5GB.

It was already 3:00 AM. I was tired. I’d been drinking. I wanted to sleep.
But if I wanted to make the deadline, I had no choice.

Since this was an A5 zine (A4 spreads), the images didn’t actually need to be that large. Even for a full-spread image, 4093 × 2894 pixels at 350dpi is more than enough.

Pixel dimensions required for printing

So I selected the largest images in InDesign, opened them in Photoshop, and resized them to around 4000–5000 pixels on the long edge at 350dpi.

Some of the originals were over 12,000 pixels wide—definitely overkill.

I resized everything, got the files uploaded, and just like that, it was already 4 AM.

🎉 The Zine Arrived in Time for the Exhibition

And this is what arrived.

It made it.

People started buying it from the very first day of the exhibition. To everyone who picked up a copy—thank you so much.

This zine is also available on the FAR EAST DARKROOM website.

It’s packed with raw, vivid photos of people living in the nights of Shinjuku—scenes I’ve been shooting for nearly seven years. It also features color photos, which I haven’t used in a zine for a while.

If you pick one up, you’ll be supporting my photography—and I really appreciate that.

The sales also help support FAR EAST DARKROOM. As you know, FED buys photobooks and zines upfront to reduce inventory risk for photographers and help fund their next projects.

Sales from this zine will go toward supporting new photographers as well.
Thank you all for the support. See you next week!

👉 View the zine details 👈

Limited print sets are also available

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Lately, I’ve been seeing more and more photographers on Instagram talking about how their engagement is dropping. They say their likes are way down compared to before. I’m guessing a lot of you feel the same way.

Today, I want to write honestly about how I feel right now—about Instagram, and about zines.

Table of Contents

• NEWS: Monthly Zine with a Darkroom Print Vol.01 — …

• Instagram Is No Longer a Platform for Photographer …

• Don’t Create Photos Meant to Be Consumed

• Convenience Made Our Photo Experience Instant

• Now Is the Time to Show Your Work, Slowly and Sinc …

NEWS: Monthly Zine with a Darkroom Print Vol.01 — Orders Close on January 31

In the last newsletter, I introduced Monthly Zine, what I’d call my biggest project of the year.

To everyone who’s already placed an order—thank you so much. If you signed up for the annual plan, your print will arrive carefully framed. I hope you’re excited.

Orders for Volume 01 close on January 31. If you’re interested, make sure to place your order before the deadline.

👉 See more details 👈

 

Instagram Is No Longer a Platform for Photographers

I often hear people say—both online and in real life—that Instagram is no longer a platform for photographers. And sure, it’s easy to feel frustrated with it.

But take a step back for a moment. We don’t need to let Instagram control us.

There’s no doubt that Instagram was an amazing tool for photographers to share their work with the world. But a tool is just a tool.

A tool exists to make something more convenient. Instagram was convenient for sharing photos. That’s all.

Before Instagram, people used Flickr, or posted photos on their own blogs. Before the internet, photographers showed their work through exhibitions.

Of course, Instagram helped me reach more people too. But even if my photos don’t get delivered to users because of an algorithm, I don’t think that’s something to be pessimistic about anymore.

Let me explain why.

Don’t Create Photos Meant to Be Consumed

Earlier, I released an interview video on YouTube with Korean photographer Min Seonhong @hikarino.houe. I titled it “Your Photos Are Not Meant to Be Swiped.”

In the video, Min talks about how we look at photos on Instagram, but they’re instantly swiped away. He says we should be looking at photos more slowly, more carefully.

I’ve felt the same way for a long time. On a tiny phone screen, you can’t really experience a photograph properly. You miss the small details.

I’ve always felt a sense of emptiness knowing my photos might just be scrolled past—consumed as content and forgotten. I’m not a content creator. I don’t want to deliver my photos as “content.” I want to deliver them as a form of art.

If you see photography as content, and you want to be a content creator, feel free to ignore what I’m saying.
But if you want your photos to exist in this world as something lasting—something more than disposable content—then you should stop depending on Instagram.

Convenience Made Our Photo Experience Instant

As I said earlier, Instagram made expression more convenient.

Before the internet, famous photographers might have published their work in magazines or photobooks, but most people had to print their photos and hold exhibitions to show them.
If you wanted inspiration, you bought photobooks or visited exhibitions.

Instagram made all of that easier. You no longer needed to hold an exhibition to show your photos, or buy a photobook to get inspired.

But that convenience changed the experience of photography itself.

At an exhibition, you might stand in front of a single photo for several minutes, trying to understand it, or sitting with emotions you can’t fully put into words. Almost no one does that on Instagram.

Photos became instant. The experience became instant.

Now Is the Time to Show Your Work, Slowly and Sincerely

In a society that judges everything instantly as “good” or “bad,” we’re losing the ability to think deeply. Photography is no exception.

If you want people to truly see your work, organize an exhibition. Even if visitors can’t afford a print, give them something to take home—make a zine.

Reach out to bookstores or online shops and ask them to carry your zine.

You can’t say, “I don’t have many followers, so my zine won’t sell.”

What matters is whether you’re actually making the effort to show your zine to people.

If you want to use online platforms, make a YouTube video about your zine. Send your zine to people with a strong voice and ask them to help spread the word.

Follower count doesn’t matter. Simply posting about your zine on Instagram won’t sell it. I know this from experience.

What really leads to zine sales is consistently doing real-world activities—exhibitions, events, conversations.
Instagram shouldn’t be where you show your photos, but where you archive those real activities, like a blog. At least, that’s how I see it.

Instagram is a social network. Its algorithm probably changed because simply showing photos wasn’t enough for “social networking” anymore.

So the real question is: who do you want to connect with through photography?

If there’s someone you want to connect with, go see their exhibition.
If you can’t, buy their zine and tell them what you thought. Those small connections slowly build your own social network.

I hope your creative life keeps getting better.
Thanks for reading all the way through. See you next week.

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Do you know Record, the zine project Daido Moriyama began back in 1972?
(Of course, back then, no one was calling it a “zine.”)

In an interview, Moriyama described Record like this:

Over the past two years, I’ve made six zines of my own.
Each one had a clear theme, and naturally, I selected photos that fit those themes.

But as I kept making zines, I started to notice something:
there are always photos that don’t make it in.

Not because they’re bad photos, but simply because they don’t fit the theme.
There are so many images that never see the light of day for that reason alone.

I want to show this series too, but it’s still not out anywhere.

The same goes for my darkroom prints. I spend a lot of time printing at home, but many of those prints end up sleeping quietly in a box, never being shown.

I wanted to share those unseen photos and prints more freely.
That feeling pushed me to start a new zine project—one of my biggest projects this year.

In this newsletter, I want to introduce that new project.

Table of Contents

• “Street” Is an Undefined Concept

• Finished Photos Sometimes Contain Lies

• Chasing Freshness

• This Zine Is My Creative Notebook

• Pre-orders for the first issue close on January 31

“Street” Is an Undefined Concept

Last month, I returned from traveling in Taiwan and China, and almost immediately jumped into the Tokyo Streets X exhibition that weekend. Before I knew it, the year was wrapping up, and the holidays were filled with visits to see my mother, who lives alone in Hokkaido. Things got busy, and I took a short break from the newsletter.

From this week on, I’ll be back to sending it out every Tuesday. I hope you’ll stick with me.

To talk about this new zine project, I need to start with the idea of “street.”

I’ve been shooting street photography for many years, but the photos I take aren’t always literally on the street.

Everyone defines street photography differently, but for me, “street” (including street culture) is where new movements emerge—places filled with something that hasn’t yet been categorized or named.

In that sense, street photography is, broadly speaking, an undefined genre.

And that’s exactly what draws me to it.

When zines first emerged as a medium for minority voices, the people creating them were often undefined too—people who didn’t fit neatly into society’s existing categories.

I’ve always preferred music that’s rough but deeply resonant over polished, mass-oriented tracks. The same goes for street photography. Even if it doesn’t appeal to everyone, I love photographing the lives of people in Shinjuku—people who are just trying to survive, people who are still “nobody.”

Finished Photos Sometimes Contain Lies

Being undefined. Being unfinished.
That’s one of the core ideas behind my photography.

If I were to make a hardcover book, the photos inside would become “finished” in a certain sense. A finished photobook fixes the meaning of images in place.

But a medium like a zine—something you put out as-is, unfinished—keeps photos from being locked down.

Think of the difference between a rapper’s mixtape and a fully produced studio album.
A zine is a mixtape: raw, rough, unfinished, driven by pure initial impulse.

Photos in that unfinished state are dense with passion, and they haven’t yet been contaminated by the photographer’s excuses or explanations. Once you try to polish something into a “final form,” you start adding reasons after the fact—and that’s where lies creep in.

I want to deliver photos that are still alive.
Not frozen food, but freshly made sushi.

That’s why I make zines.

And as someone who documents life in the city—the smell of people, scattered trash, heat, tension—I believe zines are the best medium to deliver those things while they’re still fresh.

Chasing Freshness

Looking back, I think I may have polished my previous zines a little too much.
Paper choices, tracing paper experiments—I put a lot of care into making them beautiful.

But when you chase quality too hard, a zine can easily turn into nothing more than a self-published book.

Everyone defines “zine” differently, but for me, the key difference between a book and a zine is whether it enters mainstream distribution.
If you can’t find it in a normal bookstore, that’s where zines really live. The dopest stuff always does.

So this time, instead of prioritizing refinement, I decided to focus on regular publication—a zine that doesn’t carefully select and polish, but simply shows what happened that month. Something closer to Moriyama’s Record. Something fresh.

That’s why I chose the newspaper format, and why this newspaper-style zine will be my biggest project of 2026.

This is “DARKROOM IN USE,” a new zine project I’m starting. Each month, you’ll receive a darkroom print and a newspaper-style zine.

This Zine Is My Creative Notebook

Each issue will be 24 pages. Alongside my own photos, I’ll feature one photographer every month. For the very first issue, I’m featuring Taiwanese photographer Yeh Che-Yeh.
(He hasn’t used Instagram since his account was banned, so chances to see his work online are extremely limited—which makes featuring photographers like him even more exciting.)

I’ll also include my darkroom printing process, film development notes, and stories from shooting. This isn’t just a zine that lines up photos—it’s closer to a creative notebook, showing how I work.

Every issue will also come with one of my darkroom prints as a gift.
This month’s print was shot in Hokkaido and printed on Ilford 5×7” fiber paper.
(I feel a little awkward saying this myself, but you won’t find my fiber prints at this price anywhere else.)

I’ve also prepared an annual subscription plan. Subscribers will receive a framed print in the first month. The mat is custom-made to complement my prints, and the frame is designed so you can swap in each month’s new print as it arrives.

Annual subscribers will also receive a shout-out as supporters in each future issue (name or handle optional). More details will be shared by email.

Pre-orders for the first issue close on January 31

To manage shipping, this monthly zine will be available only during a limited order window each month. Once the window closes, it won’t be available for purchase.

For this first issue, orders are open from today until January 31.
(Shipping is planned for around February 10.)

To reduce shipping costs for international readers, this monthly zine will be sent as untracked letter mail. I’ll personally stamp and send each envelope.
It’s the beginning of a small adventure—monthly zines and prints traveling from Tokyo to the world.

As you know, FED also supports photographers by purchasing their photobooks and zines upfront, reducing inventory risk and helping fund their creative work—including the recent photobooks by Yu Chang.

Sales from this monthly zine will allow FED to support even more photographers, so if you’d like to support what we’re building, I’d truly appreciate it.

Thank you, everyone. You’re the best.

See you next week.

Monthly Zine with a Darkroom Print

Each month, you’ll receive a 5×7” darkroom print and a newspaper-style zine. Join me on this adventure.

fareastdarkroom.com/products/darkroominuse

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Last week, I went to Taiwan and Shanghai to shoot photos. In Taiwan, I didn’t just stay in Taipei—I also took the high-speed rail down to Tainan. I was constantly on the move, so I didn’t get a chance to send out the newsletter.

While I was in Taipei, I met a photographer named Yu Chang @yuchang106.

Photo from his book “Side Effects of the City”

He originally started out as a graffiti artist (and he’s still active). When he was documenting the graffiti scene, he realized that shooting with a digital camera was risky—police could check the images on the spot. So he switched to film.

As he fell deeper into photography, he began shooting not just graffiti, but his everyday life. The photos he makes now are pure Taipei underground.

Yu Chang took a series of photos of women working in the sex industry. Looking at those images, I asked him:

“Usually it’s really hard to photograph women like this. How did you manage to shoot them?”

Photo from his book “Side Effects of the City”

He answered simply:

“Because I made them happy.”

That answer made perfect sense.

People sometimes ask me the same thing when they see my photos from Kabukicho. “How did you manage to photograph people like that?”

And my answer is usually something like, “Because we did tequila shots together,” or “Because we drank together.”

Photos from his book “somnambulate taipei”

Yu Chang and I shoot very different scenes, but at the core, we’re doing the same thing: we’re photographing within our own lifestyles.

And that’s the point. Each of us has a different lifestyle, and because of that, there are photos that only we can take.

Photo from his book “Side Effects of the City”

I brought back as many copies of Yu Chang’s photobook from Taiwan as I could fit into my suitcase. These are signed copies and very hard to find elsewhere. Quantities are limited, so if you’re interested, make sure to check them out.

Side Effects of the City - YU CHANG

Side Effects of the City features photographs taken between 2019 and 2020.
All images were printed by YU CHANG himself in the darkroom.

https://fareastdarkroom.com/products/side-effects-of-the-city

somnambulate taipei - YU CHANG

somnambulate taipei is the artist’s debut photobook. Across 87 pages, it captures the raw and underground scenes of Taipei—intimate, chaotic, and deeply personal.

fareastdarkroom.com/products/somnambulate-taipei

🚨 New YouTube Video

I also recently uploaded a new video on YouTube. In this one, I look back on what’s happened as I’ve continued to follow my curiosity through photography—it’s a record of my own photographic adventure.

I hope you’ll check it out.

That’s it for this week’s edition.
Thank you for reading. See you next week!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

I already shared this on Instagram, but last Saturday I held a collaborative exhibition with SUPER NICE, an Australian apparel brand. For this show, I displayed four A0-sized prints (841 × 1189 mm / 33.1 × 46.8 inches).

Have you ever exhibited your work at A0 size?

I actually have before—and honestly, it’s one of my favorite ways to show photos. There are a few reasons for that.

First, large prints have a simple but undeniable power: they overwhelm you.
In a world where everyone has gotten used to viewing images on tiny phone screens, seeing the exact same photo blown up huge in a gallery hits completely differently.

And when a print is that big, viewers start noticing details inside the frame that they would have never seen on a phone. As photographers, having someone notice those little details we cared about… that’s one of the best feelings.

To be honest, I never actually knew what the tattoo on the woman’s lips said—the one I used on the cover of 404 NOT FOUND Issue 2.1.
But when I printed it at A0 size for this show, I finally noticed it for the first time.

It said “SILENCE.” haha

There’s something really cool about opening your mouth and revealing the word “silence.”

Another reason is this:
When you print at A0 scale, a photograph stops being just an image you look at. It becomes a subject.

At the exhibition, several visitors used the A0 prints as backdrops to take their own photos. I also took portraits of people who bought my zines, shooting them in front of the giant prints.
When your print itself becomes a subject—something that others photograph—it spreads your work even further. And personally, that makes me incredibly happy.

Huge thanks to SUPER NICE for giving me the opportunity to do this exhibition.
We’re also planning to sell a limited number of the collaboration T-shirts through FED soon, so if you’re interested, make sure to follow the FED Instagram.

The material is insanely good—honestly one of my favorite T-shirts.

That’s it for this week’s edition.
Thank you for reading. See you next week!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

When I was a kid, I loved drawing. My mom bought me sketchbooks and those colored pencil sets with dozens of colors, and I’m still grateful she supported me like that.

I also remember adults saying things like, “Music won’t make you money. Don’t aim to be a musician.”

I never want to say anything like that to my kids.
I’d never want to tell them, “Photographers don’t make money, so go to a proper school and find a stable job.”

Absolutely not.

But somewhere along the way, when we grow up, a lot of us stop following our own curiosity. We become adults who can’t even take action unless there’s a clear purpose or measurable goal.

If you’re reading this newsletter, I’m pretty sure you’re someone who still follows your curiosity in some way—someone who creates because they feel like creating.

You don’t need a purpose to follow what excites you.

“Because I want to.”

That’s enough. And I know you get that.

“If it’s not your job, it’s just a hobby.”

The other day, I posted this on Threads:

@_nuts.tokyo_ on Threads

To be honest, the story was half-fiction.
But I had a feeling it would spark a lot of reactions—so I posted it anyway.

And as expected, it blew up. Right now, the post has over 190 comments.

The most common topic people brought up was whether I make money from photography. So many people said things like:

“If it’s not your job, it’s just a hobby.”

But people who say that are probably the same type who would have told Madonna—when she arrived in New York with just $35 in her pocket and worked part-time jobs while chasing her dream— “Your music is just a hobby.”

They’re probably the kind who would laugh at the Wright brothers—two men obsessed with the idea of flying—and say, “Cute hobby you’ve got there.”

But here’s the thing.

A hobby is “an activity done regularly in one’s leisure time for pleasure.”

If you’re spending most of your day—or most of your week—devoting yourself to that passion, then it’s no longer a hobby.

Over these past two years, photography has been so much more than a hobby for me.

Weekdays, weekends—it didn’t matter. I went out to shoot every chance I got.
One time I even flew over 1,000 km to an island just to photograph a rocket launch.
I traveled to Taiwan to shoot, and the people I met there eventually led to my showing work at TAIWAN PHOTO months later.

When I was home, I was in my darkroom—developing film, making prints.
I showed my work in exhibitions almost every month, sold prints, released zines, and kept creating nonstop.

My photos weren’t only seen in Japan either.
They were featured in an Austrian newspaper.
DAZED published six full pages of my work.
My photos were even exhibited in a photography museum.

With this much passion behind what I do, I can’t possibly call photography a “hobby.”
That Threads post I shared the other day—that was the real message behind it.

Of course, doing photography as a hobby is totally fine.
But telling someone who’s giving everything they have—someone with real drive and curiosity—that what they’re doing is “just a hobby because it doesn’t make money”?

That’s wrong.
People said the same thing to Madonna. To the Wright brothers.
We know how that turned out.

Honestly, I think we should be encouraging people who follow their curiosity despite not making money from it.
That kind of passion is something we should celebrate, not dismiss.

And I want people who pour their hearts into photography to be rewarded—even just a little.

That’s why I started FAR EAST DARKROOM.

I would never call his passion a hobby.

Min Seonhong is a photographer from South Korea.
Ever since he fell in love with Tokyo, he’s been visiting almost every month.
In just the past year or two, he’s come to Tokyo nearly 30 times.

And he’s now created his very first zine, BLIPS VOL.01.
At 88 pages, it’s so beautifully made that calling it a “zine” almost feels insufficient—it's practically a full-fledged book.

I would never call his passion a hobby.
This is a real artistic practice, and he is a true artist.

And to make sure that passion of his never burns out, I wanted to support him in any way I could. So FAR EAST DARKROOM is now carrying BLIPS VOL.01.
If you’d like to support his work, please check out the zine at the link below.

BLIPS VOL.01 - Min Seonhong →

BLIPS VOL.01

That’s it for this week’s edition.

Thank you for reading. See you next week.

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

404 Bundle Set

The 404 CONTACT SHEETS and 404 NOT FOUND ISSUE 2.1 are now available as a special bundle set. Get both zines together and save more!

fareastdarkroom.com/products/404-bundle-set

(I had to skip last week’s newsletter because I wasn’t feeling well.)

Are you working on any zines lately?
My friend A.J Oxley just created a zine called Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo, featuring photos he shot around Tokyo.
For this edition, I interviewed him and asked him to share some of the stories behind the making of his zine.

The struggles he faced, the decisions he made, and the creative process behind his work will definitely give you some ideas for your own zine-making.

🚨 POP-UP MEETUP — Nov 29

We’re teaming up with the Australian apparel brand SUPER NICE to host a meet-up on Saturday, Nov 29, 2–10 PM. The event will take place right under the Tokyo Skytree, in a gallery space with rooftop access.

Alongside my work, we’ll also be showcasing photos from several other photographers. Starting at 6 PM, we’ll be serving free drinks (limited supply), so feel free to swing by like it’s an early end-of-year party.

Event Details:

📅 Date: Saturday, 29 November 2025
🕑 Time: 2:00 PM – 10:00 PM
🎶 Live music and alcohol service from 6:00 PM
📍 Location: N4 Studio — 4 Chome-18-16 Narihira, Sumida City, Tokyo 130-0002, Japan (Google map)

📝 Behind the Stories of Zine-Making with A.J Oxley

Photo from the zine Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo by A.J Oxley

Please introduce yourself.

Hello! My name is A.J Oxley (@_ajox_). I have been photographing daily life, street and football for 10+ years. I live in Perth, Australia but seem to find myself taking my favourite photos abroad, travelling as often as I can.

I started taking photos on my iPhone 5 during my commutes and naturally became drawn to street photography. I then went on to study photography formally, learning and practicing with different mediums and buying my first camera. I have always been a black and white photographer, inspired by classic cinema and then photographers such as Weegee, Moriyama, Koudelka, and Friedlander.

Photo from the zine Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo by A.J Oxley

Can you tell us about your zine? / What inspired you to create it?

I have always been drawn to creating physical media, experimenting with cyanotypes and collages. Creating a zine has been a goal of mine for some time but I wanted it to have an idea behind it, not just be another collection of photos. 

For the idea I created a theme with the title “Outerference”.
Taking a photograph doesn’t just record a moment; it also shapes it. A subject may become more aware of the camera. A scene can shift as it’s framed, composed, or staged. Even in street photography, where the aim is often spontaneity, the presence of the photographer inevitably affects what unfolds and what gets captured.

Photography is never entirely neutral, it involves choosing one version of reality to hold onto. Outerference will explore these realities in various releases.

Photo from the zine Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo by A.J Oxley

What challenges did you face while making your zine? / How did you overcome them?

The biggest challenge for me was knowing what is realistic to produce and compromising.

Originally, I wanted to create them myself, accordion-fold from a single roll through my printer. However, after chewing through expensive ink and materials I looked to outsource the production. So then, I wanted to create my zine locally with an independent printer/production house… unfortunately, where I live there really aren’t any that aren’t commercially focused.

Next option? Online! I did a little research into different companies and found Mixam to be the best for my needs and budget.

Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo by A.J Oxley

Based on your experience, what advice would you give to someone making their first zine?

Don’t overthink it, just start creating something. If you are outsourcing your production - get a tester! Yes, it will be more expensive to produce a single copy but you could make an even more expensive mistake otherwise.
For example, the images in my test copy were completely blown out beyond recognition to the digital proof they sent me.

Also, personalize your zine to give it more personality! I am including a sticker and a polaroid in each of my copies. This way, I am not completely losing the original identity I wanted it to convey.

Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo, by A.J Oxley

Lastly, could you share your future plans for your photography and zine projects?

Since I have created the idea of Outerference as part of a greater theme, I plan to release various editions featuring different subject matter.
This first release is Tokyo, however I plan to feature events/protests closer to home for my second.

Creating a series gives me endless opportunities and ideas to work with. I believe this helps my photography overall and keeps me motivated to continue creating. This also doesn’t limit the idea to my own work, I would love to collaborate with other photographers in the future which could lead to exhibitions and community events which is lacking in Perth.

A huge thank you to A.J for sharing such valuable stories.
Make sure to check out his Instagram—and of course, his zine.

Instagram: @_ajox_

Zine: Outerference Vol. 1: Tokyo

Alright, see you next week! See you!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Have you ever shot with a disposable camera?

They’re small enough to slip into your pocket, and the flash isn’t too strong—so even if you shoot people on the street, it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable. For example, this photo was taken with one.

You might have seen plastic lenses for digital cameras that make your photos look like they were shot on a disposable camera.

But actually, there’s a way to reuse a real disposable camera. In this edition, I’ll show you exactly how to reload film and use it again.

🔨 Tools You’ll Need to Reuse a Disposable Camera

Here’s what you’ll need to reload a disposable camera :

• A plastic card (like a credit card)

• A flathead screwdriver

• A utility knife

The plastic card is key—it helps you safely open the disposable camera without breaking it.

Step-by-Step Guide: How to Reload Film in a Disposable Camera

Step 1: Cut through the sticker along the edge of the body

Most disposable cameras—whether Kodak or Fuji—are made of two parts: a front and back body.

They usually have a single sticker that wraps across both halves. To open it, carefully cut through the sticker with a utility knife.
If you’re fine with keeping the camera as a simple plastic body, you can just peel off the entire sticker instead.

Step 2: Insert a plastic card into the gap along the edge

There are small plastic clips holding the two halves together.

Slide your plastic card into the gap along the edge and gently push—it should pop open naturally. Do this on both sides, and you’ll be able to separate the body.

You might think a screwdriver would work too, but since those clips are also plastic,
a metal tool could easily break them. That’s why using a slightly flexible card is safer.

Step 3: Load new film into your disposable camera

Remove the used film and insert a fresh roll.

Start with the film canister, pull out the leader, and fit it into the take-up spool.

Make sure the spool’s teeth grab the sprocket holes properly. Wind the film a little by hand to create tension before closing the camera.

Step 4: Close the camera while keeping tension on the film

Once the film is loaded, hold the bottom part of the camera as you close it.
If you don’t keep that pressure, the film might loosen and slip off the spool.
Use your thumb to hold it in place while snapping the body shut.

Step 5: Wind the film using a flathead screwdriver

After closing the camera, use a flathead screwdriver to wind the film. (Keep your thumb pressed on the bottom part to maintain tension when you insert the screwdriver.)

There’s a small slot at the bottom of the take-up spool where you can insert it and start turning. You’ll hear a clicking sound as you wind—don’t worry, that’s normal.

If you don’t hear any clicks, the film isn’t loaded correctly, so reopen it and try again while keeping tension on the spool.

When the clicking stops and you can’t turn the screwdriver anymore, your disposable camera is ready to shoot!

Sample Shots Taken with the Reused Disposable Camera

For this test, I loaded MARIX 800T film and shot a Halloween party last weekend.

Since it was inside a dark club, the backgrounds came out a bit underexposed,
but the overall look has that unique plastic-lens charm you can only get from a disposable camera.

The best part is—you can experiment with different ISO films or even try black-and-white film. In places like clubs, where carrying a big camera might draw attention, a disposable camera is the perfect choice.

Also, the flash is reusable if you replace the battery, so even though it’s called “disposable,” it’s actually an eco-friendly reusable camera.
If that sounds fun, give it a try!

Have you watched this video yet?

I uploaded a new video on YouTube, and honestly, it’s one of my favorites I’ve ever made.

To enjoy the 3D sound of Shinjuku’s streets, recorded with a binaural mic, I recommend watching it with earphones or headphones on🎧

And for my own motivation, if you like the video, I’d love to hear from you in the YouTube comments.
Tell me which scene you liked most or what you felt while watching. Anything is welcome. Thank you!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

I just uploaded a new video on YouTube, and honestly, it’s one of my favorites I’ve ever made.

To enjoy the 3D sound of Shinjuku’s streets, recorded with a binaural mic, I recommend watching it with earphones or headphones on🎧

And for my own motivation, if you like the video, I’d love to hear from you in the YouTube comments.
Tell me which scene you liked most or what you felt while watching. Anything is welcome. Thank you!

Watch the video now →

30-Day Challenge: Progress Update

Staying consistent is really tough.

I’m proud of myself for keeping this newsletter going every week for a whole year,
but the 30-day challenge I announced last month—shooting photos every day and turning them into a zine—almost broke me within the first few days.

So, I decided to cheat a little (sorry!) and turn it into a project to archive the hundreds of old family photos I found at my grandmother’s house.
At first, I was posting the progress on Threads, but I eventually stopped midway.

On the other hand, Mia @mjaap, who joined this challenge with me—you’re amazing.
She’s been posting her 30-day progress on Threads every single day without missing one.
To show her some love and support, please follow Mia on Threads and cheer her on!

Follow Mia on Threads →

As for my own project, I’m currently scanning and digitizing the family photos,
and I plan to share more about the process here in this newsletter once it’s ready.

Pick of the Week: Instagram POST

Instagram post

Isn’t using a piece of cardboard as a book cover such a great idea?
I really want to try that myself🔥

That’s it for this week—just keeping it short.
See you next Tuesday!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Every once in a while, I get a DM on Instagram saying something like,

“I’m visiting Tokyo next month—any gallery recommendations?”

It’s always nice to get these messages, but answering them each time can be tough.
So earlier this year, I shared a list of 15 photo galleries and bookstores in Tokyo in my newsletter (it’s now available to read on the FED site).

But honestly, there are way more great galleries out there than I could ever fit into one list. And to be real, what really matters isn’t the gallery itself—it’s what’s showing right now.

Last weekend, I went to see KEIZO KITAJIMA’s photo exhibition in Shinjuku. The moment I found out about it, I thought, “If I can see Keizo Kitajima’s photos in person, I have to go!”—and I literally ran out the door.

The funny thing is, I didn’t even know he had an exhibition going on.

That day, I happened to have some free time and was wandering around Shinjuku taking photos. Then I suddenly thought, “I wonder if there’s any exhibition happening nearby?”
So I opened an app called Community.

Community is a mobile app run by my friend Dmitry Rambovskiy (@re_sakusei), and it curates photo exhibition info all around Tokyo.

You can browse shows in a list view or even check what’s happening near you on a map. It’s incredibly useful for anyone who loves gallery-hopping.

If it weren’t for this app, I would’ve totally missed Kitajima’s exhibition.
So Dmitry—seriously, thank you for creating this app. You saved my weekend.

If you’re into photography and want to explore Tokyo’s photo scene—or you’re planning a trip here and want to know what exhibitions are happening while you’re in town— I highly recommend downloading this app.

Download the app here (available for iPhone only for now) →

*Android version is in development now, check Dmitry’s instagram for updates

As someone who’s held exhibitions myself, one of the biggest challenges is always getting people to come.

I usually promote my exhibitions on Instagram, but because of the algorithm, not all my followers actually see the posts. I’ve even had friends tell me later, “Wait, you had an exhibition? I didn’t know!”

When you’re promoting your own exhibition, it usually only reaches people who already know you.
Getting strangers to come—that’s the hard part.

But imagine if more people started using apps like Community.

People could just open it, see what’s nearby, and think,
“Oh, there’s a photo exhibition happening around here—let’s check it out.”

That kind of spontaneous discovery could connect photographers and visitors in new ways. And honestly, that would be amazing.

Seeing exhibitions like Kitajima’s always gives me so much inspiration. For example, at this exhibition, there was a slideshow projection of his work. Watching not only the photos but also the structure of how they were presented made me think,
“Next time, I want to try a setup like that.”

Also the prints were fairly small—maybe around 8x10”—but the impact was huge. It reminded me that even small prints can feel powerful when displayed well.
I’m so glad I didn’t miss this exhibition.

From KEIZO KITAJIMA’s photo exhibition

If you’re in Tokyo—or planning to visit—and want to make the most of your time exploring the photo scene, definitely download the Community app.
It’ll make gallery-hopping way more meaningful and fun.

And hey—if you ever see my exhibition pop up on the app, please come by and say hi! haha

You can find the app by searching “Community Japan” in the App Store, or by following the link below.

Download the app here (available for iPhone only for now) →

Save 10% when you purchase 2+ items

At FAR EAST DARKROOM (FED), we’re now offering 10% off when you purchase two or more items. We’ve also been gradually adding more items with free shipping, so take a look and see what’s new in our lineup!

Check out the latest zines from FED →

At FAR EAST DARKROOM, we buy out zines upfront so photographers and zine creators don’t have to take on inventory risks and can stay focused on creating.

The sales from these zines are then used to fund new projects and support more creators—building a sustainable creative cycle.
Your support makes this possible. Thank you so much for helping us keep it going!

“Stolen Walls of Tokyo” Is Back in Stock!

I’ve restocked my past zine Stolen Walls of Tokyo, which features nothing but photos of Tokyo’s sticker-bombing walls. It’s an affordable $12 zine, so if you’re interested, make sure to grab a copy!

Click for more details →

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

It’s been about 5 months since I started selling 404 CONTACT SHEETS back in May.
Nearly 150 people have picked up a copy so far—and to everyone who’s purchased and supported it, thank you so much.

I recently sent out a short survey to those who bought it, and reading the responses honestly gave me a lot of courage. I felt so encouraged and motivated by the thoughtful comments people shared.

One keyword that stood out from the survey was “inspiration.”

The idea for 404 CONTACT SHEETS came from books like MAGNUM CONTACT SHEETS and Daido Moriyama’s LABYRINTH. Both have been huge sources of inspiration for me personally.

Looking at contact sheets shows how photographers approach the same subject in different ways.
Unlike a photo book, contact sheets let you see the images that weren’t selected, which gives you a glimpse into the photographer’s decision-making process—why one frame was chosen over another.

When I look at contact sheets like these, I start to think, “Next time, maybe I’ll try shooting a subject this way,” or “Maybe I should go to this kind of place to take photos.” It sparks endless ideas for me.

But both MAGNUM CONTACT SHEETS and Moriyama’s LABYRINTH mostly feature old photographs. In the case of LABYRINTH, the contact sheets span decades, starting from the 1960s.
Even though it’s the same Japan, the streets and people’s lives back then were completely different from what they are now.

That’s why I wanted to make a contact sheet book that reflects the present—one that could inspire photographers living in today’s world.
That became the main reason I created 404 CONTACT SHEETS.

Here’s a test print of 404 CONTACT SHEETS.

This zine includes everything from contact sheets of pole dancers in Shinjuku’s Kabukicho, to night scenes in the city, the Sanja Festival (also known as the “Yakuza Festival”), portraits of youth in Tokyo’s club scene, ruins of coal mines, Ainu ceremonies in Hokkaido, and even the launch of Japan’s H3 rocket—all moments I’ve experienced and photographed over the past 2 years, packed into 116 pages.

There was another reason I chose to compile all these photos as contact sheets:

“In just 2 years, I’ve taken this many photos. What about you?”

That’s the message I wanted to send.
It’s also one of my biggest motivations to keep photographing.

I used to have a cousin my age. But when he was 20, he chose to end his life.

Every time I make a zine, I think of him and feel something rise up inside me:

“Since you left, I’ve experienced so many things. Life is full of interesting moments—you were a fool to end it so early.”

After I picked up a camera, life became so much more enjoyable.
I think many people who do photography probably feel the same way. A camera connects us to new people, new journeys, and new places—it expands our world.

I want to keep photographing and turning my work into print, as a way of showing my late cousin the joy of still being here—and leaving something behind for those who come after us.

Recently, I updated my old zine 404 NOT FOUND Vol.2 and released Vol.2.1.

That’s why I keep creating zines—not just for my late cousin, but also because I’d be truly happy if they could inspire someone out there.

As the survey showed, we buy zines because we find inspiration in other people’s work.
And to inspire others, we as creators need to cherish our own moments of inspiration—those small sparks of “What if I tried this?”

Our sparks connect to someone else’s.
So I hope you keep discovering new zines, finding inspiration, and turning your own ideas into something tangible through the medium of print.

Each person’s spark of inspiration can encourage someone else—and sometimes, it might even save a life.

By the way, you can now get 404 CONTACT SHEETS as a special-price bundle with the updated 404 NOT FOUND Vol.2.1. If you’re interested, go check it out!

Check out the 404 Bundle Set →

New YouTube Video Out Now!

We just released a new zine from FAR EAST DARKROOM—alibi vol.01 by Chinese photographer Zeehaan, featuring scenes from Shanghai.

To celebrate, I made a short video walking through Tokyo’s Kabukicho with Zeehaan, talking about the stories behind his zine.
The ending audio of the video is my favorite part, so I hope you’ll watch it all the way through!

Watch the video on YouTube →

FED: Photo of the Week

On the FAR EAST DARKROOM website, I’ve started a new section called “Photo of the Week” on the homepage, where I feature one photo each week.

Last week’s pick was this beautiful shot by MI LU.

Photograph by MI LU

So, what’s the next photo I picked?

Check out this week’s Photo of the Week on the site →

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

When making a zine, one of the hardest decisions is choosing the right paper.

Part of me always whispers, “It’s a zine, just print it on a copier and call it a day.”
But another part of me says, “Since you’re going through all the effort, why not pick a paper that matches the world you want to express?”

Even now, I still struggle with paper selection. But this time, I’ll walk you through how I usually choose paper for my own zines.

Table of Contents

• FED: Photo of the Week

• Coated or Uncoated — Which Should You Pick?

  • Try This

• Papers I’ve Actually Used for My Zines

  • 404 CONTACT SHEETS

  • Shanghai Night Stories

  • Hokkaido 43°23'07"N, 145°49'03"E

• Order Just One Test Copy First

• Progress Update: My 30-Day Challenge

FED: Photo of the Week

On the FAR EAST DARKROOM website I run, I’ve started a new section called “Photo of the Week” on the homepage, where I feature one photo each week.
Last week’s pick was this powerful shot by David Kresses.

Photograph by David Kresses

So, what’s the next photo I picked?

Check out this week’s Photo of the Week on the site →

Coated or Uncoated — Which Should You Pick?

I usually use a Japanese printing company, but for this example, let’s look at Mixam, since it’s a service many people use.

When you try to print a zine with Mixam, you’ll see an option under “Paper Type” asking whether you want Coated or Uncoated paper. If you don’t have much printing experience, you might be unsure which one to pick.

So, what’s the difference?

Coated paper is treated with a layer of mineral clay or polymer that fills the gaps between fibers, creating a smooth surface. Because the coating prevents too much ink absorption, images look sharper, colors more vivid, and contrast stronger compared to uncoated paper.

Uncoated paper, as the name suggests, isn’t treated with any coating. Its texture is rougher, with a more natural and tactile feel. The downside is that prints lose some sharpness and contrast.

From that explanation alone, you might think, “Then coated paper must be better for photos.” But remember — a zine is meant to be held. The tactile experience matters.

The biggest advantage of uncoated paper is how it feels in your hands.
Each time a reader turns a page, that texture becomes part of the experience. Whether the paper is coated or uncoated changes how your zine feels to the reader in a big way.

And depending on your photos, the matte look of uncoated paper might actually fit better. For example, here’s a photo I took in snowy Hokkaido. If I wanted the paper to reflect the texture of snow, I feel like uncoated paper would suit it best.

Try This

Take a look at the photo books or magazines you already own. Try to guess—just from the feel—whether the paper is coated or uncoated.

Then think about which types of photos work best with coated paper, and which feel more natural on uncoated paper.

Papers I’ve Actually Used for My Zines

I’ve never used Mixam myself, but from what I can see, they only offer three paper types: two coated options (Satin and Gloss) and one uncoated.

Of course, paper stock varies depending on the printing company. I usually print through a Japanese company called Graphic, which carries a wide selection of uncoated papers. That gives me more flexibility to match the paper to the concept of each zine I make.

Here’s a look at the papers I’ve used for some of my own zines—and why I chose them.

404 CONTACT SHEETS

Paper used:
Cover — VANNOVO VG Snow White 195kg
Body — White Coated 135kg

VANNOVO VG Snow White is made by a Japanese paper company called Takeo. It’s technically a coated paper, but it doesn’t have that overly slick surface—there’s a soft, organic texture that still feels like real paper. In other words, it offers the best of both worlds: high print quality and great texture.

That said, it’s quite pricey. So for the body pages, which have higher page counts, I used White Coated (Gloss) instead. It’s a high-brightness coated paper that makes black-and-white images pop.

Since this zine is made up of monochrome film photos and contact sheets—many with strong contrast—I wanted something that would print the images sharply. For the cover, I chose VANNOVO VG Snow White because it not only handles photos beautifully but also gives the zine a sense of luxury when you hold it.

Shanghai Night Stories

Paper used:
Cover — Matte Coated 135kg (Gloss Lamination)
Body — Matte Coated 110kg

This zine features nightclub scenes in China shot by photographer MI LU. Because all publishing in China is tightly restricted, we produced and released the zine through FAR EAST DARKROOM.

The photos are filled with flash and vivid colors, so I wanted the print to capture that energy. I went with coated paper for both the cover and the inside pages since it reproduces color beautifully.

As for satin vs gloss, that’s a matter of taste—I personally prefer less shine, so for this zine I chose a non-glossy paper.

For the cover, though, I wanted a stronger physical presence, so I added Gloss Lamination—a process that applies a thin plastic film to the paper using heat. It adds shine, protects the surface, and gives the zine a more substantial feel.

Hokkaido 43°23'07"N, 145°49'03"E

Paper used:
Cover — Arabelle Snow White 130kg
Body — Arabelle Snow White 110kg

This one’s different. Both the cover and body use Arabelle Snow White, an uncoated paper. 

All the photos in this zine were darkroom-printed on fiber paper, then scanned. I wanted to carry that fiber-paper texture into the zine itself, and uncoated paper was the best fit for that.

It’s a zine you can really feel as you flip through it—the texture adds warmth to each page.

For the cover, I even made a handmade tracing-paper jacket. The cover photo was shot around 6 a.m., with an abandoned building’s chimney(actually an observation elevator) wrapped in morning fog.
To capture that foggy atmosphere, I used translucent tracing paper for the cover, and it turned out exactly how I imagined. This one’s still one of my favorites.

Order Just One Test Copy First

Even after reading all this, you might still be unsure which paper to use for your own zine. In that case, here’s what I often do: order just one copy first and see how it turns out.

Making a test copy lets you check not only the paper texture but also the overall print quality. And if the printing company offers a wide range of paper options, they often have paper sample books available—so definitely try getting one and feel the papers yourself.

Unlike looking at a display, paper has depth and character that you can only understand by touch.

It can feel overwhelming because there are so many options, but the moment you finally find the perfect match, the joy is huge. So enjoy the process—start your zine-making journey from the paper itself.

Progress Update: My 30-Day Challenge

In my previous newsletter, I announced a 30-day challenge—to shoot photos every day and turn them into a zine. I believe deadlines are essential in zine-making.

But I’ll be honest—I almost gave up right away. Taking photos every day isn’t hard for me, but when it comes to photos for a zine, I suddenly felt this pressure to make every shot count.

Then I realized something. Some of you might have seen it on my Threads, but in my house, I have hundreds of old family photos—passed down from my great-grandmother’s time, collected from my grandmother’s house. I decided to rephotograph them and turn them into a zine.

If it weren’t for this challenge, I probably never would’ve touched those photos. I still have no idea how the final zine will turn out, but I’m already excited to see it come together.

So stay tuned for the finished project—and see you next week!

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Since starting this newsletter, I’ve had several people tell me,
“I want to make a zine too, but I have no idea where to begin.”

If that’s you—interested in zine-making but not sure how to start—this edition might help.

Why I Keep Making Zines on a Regular Basis

As you know, I publish zines pretty regularly. Sometimes people even ask, “Another new zine already?”
The reason I keep making them so often is simple: I’m constantly showing my work at exhibitions.

In Japan, selling photo prints at shows is rare. But exhibitions cost money—venue fees, print costs, framing… it adds up quickly. Before I started making zines, I was losing money every single time.
That’s when I realized: selling zines could cover the gap.

For visitors too, zines are much easier to buy than framed prints. And once I started selling them, people began asking me, “Do you have a new one this time?”

So I decided: whenever I exhibit, I’ll make a new zine. That’s how it became a routine.
From May to September this year alone, I joined 7 exhibitions and pop-up events in just 4 months. Thanks to everyone who bought my zines in person or online, I didn’t fall into the red—and for that, I’m seriously grateful.

Special shoutout to Tatsuo-san, who picks up every single one of my zines. Thank you!

Deadlines Are Everything in Zine-Making

If I weren’t doing exhibitions, I’d probably make zines way less often. Having a deadline forces me to focus.
Take my 404 CONTACT SHEETS zine—it’s 116 pages, but I still managed to finish it within just 2 weeks before an exhibition. Those 2 weeks were brutal, but without that deadline, it might never have happened.

Let’s be real: without deadlines, most of us will never finish.
So if you want to make a zine, set yourself one.

Host a solo show, join a group exhibition, or apply for a zine fair. Especially with a zine fair—once you sign up, there’s no backing out. That’s the kind of pressure that gets things done.

So What’s the Point of Making a Zine Anyway?

Even with a deadline, if you don’t see the benefits, it’s hard to commit time, money, and energy.
So here’s what I’ve gained from making zines.

First, the obvious: money. Selling zines has allowed me to keep going with my exhibitions.

But maybe more importantly, zines bring better feedback. Online, you mostly get shallow comments: “Nice photo!” “Cool work!” And sure, likes feel nice, but they don’t help you grow.

With zines, people ask: “What does this photo mean?” or “Why did you sequence it this way?” Questions that show they’re actually interested.
Through these conversations, I end up organizing my own thoughts and learning to explain my work more clearly.

Some people say art doesn’t need words. But our thinking happens in language—if you can’t put your ideas into words, you’re leaving your growth as an artist to chance.

That’s why showing your work in real life matters so much. Exhibitions push you forward. And even if you can’t do a show, making a zine and handing it to someone can have the same effect.

If you want to grow as an artist, make zines. They’re tools for real feedback.

My Motivation: I Just Want to Be Interesting

At the root of it all, my motivation is simple: I want to be an interesting person.

Before I started making things, I thought my life was boring and flat. But once I began photography, I started meeting other creative people. Their energy inspired me, and my own life started to feel richer.

That’s why I’m afraid of stopping. If I quit making, I feel like my life would slip back into being boring. And that fear keeps me going.

Let’s Do a 30 Days Challenge Together

If you, like me, want to escape the same old boring routine and live a more interesting life—this is your sign. Start making a zine.

Don’t know where to begin? No theme in mind? Then make yourself the theme.

I don’t mean taking a bunch of self-portraits. I mean documenting your everyday life—what you see, what you notice. Put it together into a zine. Even the most ordinary daily life can feel unique when seen through your eyes.

Here’s the challenge: for the next 30 days, shoot photos every day. At the end of the month, pull them together into a zine.

Even if all of us newsletter readers tried the same challenge, the results would be completely different—because our lives, environments, and styles aren’t the same. That’s exactly what makes it exciting.

As I’m writing this, I’m getting hyped!!! So I’m starting tomorrow too—the beginning of a new month feels perfect.
I’ll also post one photo or short note every day on Threads, then make it into a zine at the end.

Want to join me? Show me your 30 days!

I’ll be posting with #30dayszinemaking on Threads. If you jump in, use the same hashtag and tag me at @_nuts.tokyo_. Seeing everyone’s posts will definitely keep us motivated.

I’ll share my progress in next week’s newsletter. Let’s do this!

Supporting More Artists Together

Last time, I introduced Anju’s debut zine—and it’s now available on my site, FAR EAST DARKROOM (FED.).
Going forward, I’ll keep featuring young photographers and zine creators here in the newsletter, on FED., and even on YouTube.

One quick note: At FED., we purchase every zine outright and pay artists upfront at the time of acquisition. This way, artists don’t have to worry about unsold stock and can fully focus on their creative work. That’s how we aim to support new creators in a sustainable way.

So if you want to help keep this going, please check out the zines on the FED. site. And if something catches your eye, pick up a copy—it really does make a difference.

Thanks so much for your support.

Browse Zines on FAR EAST DARKROOM →

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Printing your zine with a service like Mixam is great, but making one by hand gives you so much more freedom with paper, binding, and design—and that’s where truly unique creations can happen.

One binding method in particular has the potential to take your zine into a completely different dimension: Japanese pouch binding, the style I’m introducing today.

I’ve already come up with an idea for a zine I want to make using it. By the time you finish reading this newsletter, you might have a brand-new idea too.

🕰️ Photography turns the past into something ongoing, not frozen

I just uploaded a brand-new interview video on YouTube. (Watch it here.)
This time I sat down with photographer Anju Miki @bibouroku__333, who told me, “I want to live longer through photography.” 

At first I wasn’t sure what she meant.
But the more she explained, the more it made sense: a photo might capture a moment in the past, but if people comment on it later, or if your own perspective changes as you grow, that past keeps shifting—almost like it’s alive.

Photography makes your past an ongoing past, and through that you get to live a broader, longer life than if you weren’t making photos at all.

It was a really fascinating conversation, so definitely check it out.

Photography Makes the Past Ongoing - ANJU MIKI | FAR EAST DARKROOM

📓 Do you know Japanese pouch binding?

In the video, we also talk about Anju’s debut zine TRAVEL. It’s made with a binding style called Japanese pouch binding. Have you heard of it? It’s also called the drum leaf binding.

And, pouch binding works like this: one sheet of paper is folded in half, then stacked and bound together. The inside fold forms a “pouch,” which is where the name comes from.

This method has been used for centuries, especially with thin, translucent paper like washi that can’t be printed on both sides.

Photo zine “TRAVEL” by Anju Miki

What’s funny is that pouch binding was once super common in Japan—just not in the way you’d expect. Up until a few years ago, you could find it in convenience store magazines. But only in the adult ones.

The law has changed now, so you won’t see porno mags in convenience stores anymore. But back then, the explicit pages were pouch-bound to prevent people from reading them in the store.
You had to buy the magazine, bring it home, and slice open the folded pages with a cutter to see what was inside. (In other words, the photos were printed on the “hidden” side of the pouch pages.)

Honestly, I wish I could show you one of those old pouch-bound mags right now. Next time I’ll try to hunt one down at a specialty porn bookstore in Jimbocho, Tokyo’s book town🏩

The cool thing is that pouch binding gives you a unique page-turning experience and adds thickness to a zine. Definitely keep it in mind as an idea for your own projects—you might even want to experiment with making a pouch-bound zine yourself.

And if you want to actually hold an example in your hands for inspiration, you can grab Anju’s TRAVEL from the FED. shop. It’s a limited run, shipping free while supplies last—so don’t wait too long!

🚨 404 not found Issue 02 is coming back—updated!

As you know, I’ve been working on the 404 PROJECT since 2023. Issue 02 sold out all 150 copies within six months. Even after that, people kept asking me if I’d reprint it.

At first I considered just doing another run. But writing these newsletters has taught me so much about zine-making that I couldn’t resist the urge to push it further.

So instead of a straight reprint, I decided to create an updated version: Issue 2.1.

Some of the same photos from Issue 02 are still there, but with new layouts and sequencing that give them a totally different feel. Plus, I added new images, and for the first time in the 404 series, the cover is printed in color. It’s the same series, but a different work altogether.

Like the other issues, this one also has an ISBN, which means I’ll be donating it to Japan’s National Diet Library. It’ll stay archived here permanently, which feels exciting—it’s like leaving a little cultural footprint in Japan.

Pre-orders are now open on the FED. site!
Also, since I know shipping costs can be tough, I’m trying something new: 10% off when you buy two or more items. If you’ve been thinking about supporting our zine work, this is the perfect time. Thank you!

👉 GRAB YOUR COPY: 404 NOT FOUND ISSUE 2.1 - TWIST THE BORING

🕺 See You Again Next Tuesday

That’s all for this week’s newsletter.

Thanks a ton for reading to the end! If this resonated with you, share it with a friend. And if you feel like it, drop a like or leave a comment—I’d really love to hear what you think!

See you again next time!

My Instagram: @_nuts.tokyo_
My YouTube: @fareastdarkroom

Recently I remembered how I used to be into making movies.
It’s tough to make a movie, but I thought, at least I can take a photo that feels like a movie scene. That’s how this shot happened.

Miho in the green

When I posted it on Instagram, a few people commented that they felt “Wong Kar-wai vibes.”
Honestly, I didn’t set out to shoot in his style at all. It’s just that the day I took those photos was insanely humid, and as I tried to capture that heavy, sticky atmosphere, the images naturally ended up feeling a bit like Wong Kar-wai.

Anyway, this time I’m going to share exactly which camera and lens I used, plus every detail of how I edited it in Lightroom. Hope you enjoy it till the end!

🚨 NEWS: Zine & Photography Event on Saturday, September 27

Planet of Zines (@planetofzines), known for their zine pop-up events, is teaming up with FAR EAST DARKROOM for a 1-DAY event called “MIXTAPE” on Saturday, September 27 at KATA gallery inside LIQUIDROOM in Ebisu, Tokyo.

LIQUIDROOM is a legendary live music venue that has energized the scene with a wide range of artists—from big names to fresh new talent. Since moving to Ebisu, it’s become even more of a hotspot with the addition of Time Out Café & Diner and KATA gallery.

There’ll also be a live DJ performance, so come enjoy the perfect mix of music, photography, and zines!

📌 Event Details

🎨 Event: MIXTAPE by POZ/FED
📅 Date & Time: Saturday, September 27, 2025 / 14:00–21:00
📍 Venue: LIQUIDROOM - KATA (Google map)
🚉 Access: 3-min walk from JR Ebisu Station (West Exit)
🎟️ Admission: Free

📸 Behind the Shoot: The Camera and Lens I Used

Alright, back to this photo.

First, let’s talk about the camera and lens. I used a Nikon D7100 — the very first DSLR I bought about 10 years ago. These days, if you check Japanese secondhand sites, you’ll find it going for around $200, a pretty cheap camera.

As for the lens, I shot with a 20mm.
It’s my favorite focal length, and for the past five years or so I’ve been shooting almost exclusively with 20mm lenses.

This particular one is manual focus only, but with 20mm it’s easy to shoot using zone focusing, so I don’t have to waste time adjusting focus. That makes it a perfect lens for street photography.

📟 Behind the Edit: How I Work in Lightroom

Next, let me show you a behind-the-scenes look at how I edit in Lightroom.

Here’s what the raw file looks like straight out of the camera. The settings were ISO 1000, shutter speed 1/160, aperture f/3.5, and the white balance was set manually to 3700K.

The photo itself is a bit dark, but it already has a cool vibe. So first, I started by adjusting the brightness and other basic settings.

By the way, I actually stumbled across this spot while walking around with the model, Miho. The shape of the window, the curves of the wall, and even the color of the stairs were all just perfect.

I knew that shooting here would make the photo look super cinematic, so that’s exactly what we did.

Now, about the actual color editing.

Since the staircase had warm tones, I shifted the overall look toward green. This approach is called a complementary color scheme.
As many of you probably know, a complementary color scheme uses two colors that sit directly opposite each other on the color wheel.

From there, I fine-tuned the colors by making slight adjustments to the shadows and highlights.

By the way, I’ve never formally studied design, and my digital photo editing is completely self-taught.

I’m sure there are better ways to do things, so if you have any advice, I’d love to hear it in the comments (you can post them on the web version of this article, not by email).

And lastly, I added a touch of grain — kind of like seasoning with a bit of salt and pepper at the end. Haha.

Finally, to give it a more cinematic feel, I cropped it to a 16x9 ratio.

Here’s what it looks like compared to the before-and-after.

When I look at this photo while playing some cinematic music, it feels just like a movie — I’m really happy with how it turned out.

Since we’re at it, let me show you some of the other shots from the session too.

That’s it for this week’s edition.

Thanks so much for reading all the way through! If you’d like more like this, get it straight to your inbox by subscribing. See you next time!

👉 Subscribe for free to get new ideas and inspiration every week

🦖 Come hang out with me on Instagram → @_nuts.tokyo_

🪐 New videos on zines & photography up on YouTube

🧃 Curious about Japanese and Asian zines? Visit FAR EAST DARKROOM.

Hey, how’s it going?
This week I’ve got some things to share that I hope will spark your creativity. Let’s go!

Pick of the Week: Instagram POST

Instagram post

Have you heard of Craig Mammano?
I’ve been following his Instagram for a long time, and the handmade photo zines he creates are always incredible. Go check out his feed—you’ll see what I mean.

Pick of the Week: YouTube VIDEO

You probably already know Ted Forbes’ YouTube channel The Art of Photography. (He actually featured my zine 404 CONTACT SHEETS a while back—if you missed it, you can still watch it here.)

Now Ted just dropped a new video: “When is a photo zine really a book?”

Here are the four main takeaways from his talk:

1. Play with the line between zine and book
   It’s not always about being one or the other. You can use zine-like fragments or collections of material, then present them with the structure and design of a book.
   

2. Lean into the handmade feel
   Things like hand-stitched binding or lo-fi finishing add value in their own way and can make the work stand out.
   

3. Tell a story through editing
   Meaning comes from how you group and sequence photos. Not just by subject, but also by rhythm, color, form, or other abstract criteria. That’s where new ways of seeing can happen.
   

4. From “pile of photos” to “project”
   It’s not about single perfect shots. What matters is the bigger message or story you’re telling across the whole work.

That last point especially—what your project as a whole is trying to say—is so important. If your zine is just a sequence of photos with no bigger message, Instagram already exists for that.

Once you’re clear on the message you want to put out there, the rest follows: structure, sequencing, layout ideas… all of it starts to fall into place.

3 questions to boost your creativity

Q1. Put your current project into words. If you don’t have one yet, write down an idea for a project you’d like to start.

Q2. What message do you want people to take away from that project?

Q3. What kind of visuals (zine size, binding method, photo sequencing, page layout, etc.) could best amplify that message? Write down every idea that comes to mind.

And hey—if you want to share your answers with me, just hit reply to this email. I might not be able to respond to everyone, but I do read every single one.

Escaping a Boring Life

People sometimes ask me, “Why did you start photography?”

The short answer is a three-month trip to New York. But the real answer is that I just wanted to escape a boring life.

Before picking up a camera, I was stuck in a 9-to-5 office job. Every day felt empty, like I wasn’t really alive. I envied artists, actors, anyone doing something creative. But I also believed those jobs were impossible for me, since I never went to art school or had formal training.

Then I found the camera. Suddenly I realized that even without an art degree, I could still create. And that’s when my new life began.

As I kept making work, I started meeting creative people. When people found my work interesting, those connections turned into friendships. Zine-making became part of that—publishing a zine brought me new friends in a way that just taking photos never did. That’s been the best part of all.

And I want to keep meeting more creative, interesting people. That’s why I push myself to keep making and experimenting.

This newsletter just hit its first anniversary, and I think it’s time for a little refresh.
Going forward, I’ll still focus on zines, but I also want to share more that could resonate with anyone who feels stuck or bored with life, just like I once did.

I’ll keep writing about the challenges I take on to become more creative, and the lessons I learn along the way. Hopefully, it helps me grow into a more interesting person—and maybe sparks something for you too.

So come along with me. Let’s keep finding ways to live more creatively.

See you next week!

My Instagram: @_nuts.tokyo_
My YouTube: @fareastdarkroom

Dive into My Creative Journey — Through My Contact Sheets.

Haven’t grabbed your copy of my latest zine “404 CONTACT SHEETS” yet?
This 116-page zine brings together two years of black-and-white film work. With contact sheets from over 100 rolls of film, it offers a rare behind-the-scenes look at my shooting process — frame by frame.

fareastdarkroom.com/products/404-contact-sheets

Last weekend, I got the chance to do a little zine pop-up at HVEN TOKYO, a club in the city. It was a fun night, and I was happy to share my work with people I wouldn’t normally reach.

Big thanks to Mia for making it happen.

Now, this is the second edition of my “zines I picked up” series.

Tokyo’s full of different communities, and honestly, there’s still so much I don’t know about this city.
One photographer who captures those unseen sides of Tokyo is Kazz, who’s based here. I recently picked up a full set of his zine series, and I want to introduce them to you today.

📀 “JUKEBOX”: A Photo Zine Project That Spins Stories Like Records

“From vinyl records to cassette tapes and CDs, and now to subscription-based streaming services, music has transformed alongside the spread of personal computers and the internet.
Today, we can enjoy music anywhere, anytime. But with that convenience, something sensory—something essential in the experience of music—feels lost. Perhaps the same can be said about photographs, which are now casually shared on social media.”
—Excerpt from the Photo Zine JUKEBOX statement

Just as a jukebox stores records, Photo Zine JUKEBOX is a project by photographer Kazz @pimpkmojo that replaces them with zines—each issue built around a different theme, capturing the diverse scenes he has witnessed.

I got my hands on three issues from Kazz’s JUKEBOX series—Issues 2 through 4. Let me introduce them one by one.

MOJO: A Self-Portrait Made of Fading Nights

In Issue 02: MOJO, Kazz revisits his younger days, projecting the memories and illusions of nights in the city onto the reality of photography. The work functions as a kind of self-portrait, reprinting the fleeting sensations of youth that gradually slip away with time.

The title MOJO is borrowed from the film Austin Powers, where Powers laments, “I’ve lost my mojo,” after Dr. Evil robs him of his source of power. Kazz says he’s been feeling just like that lately—like his mojo is slipping away too.

Each photograph is beautiful on its own, of course, but what really stands out is the layout. He pairs seemingly unrelated images on each spread, letting unexpected stories emerge from their combinations.

Just by flipping through this zine, you’ll get a strong sense of who Kazz is as a person.

All Clear in Kabukicho: From Lockdown to Lust

Kabukicho — a district pulsing with nightlife: sex clubs, hostess bars, host clubs, and late-night eateries. A place where desire never sleeps.

But when the pandemic hit in 2020, its neon-soaked streets turned into a ghost town. And yet, as soon as the state of emergency was lifted, Kabukicho came roaring back—reviving its chaotic energy and once again becoming a crossroads of temptation.

JUKEBOX issue 03: All Clear in Kabukicho captures this dramatic transformation, documenting the district before, during, and after the pandemic.

A zine that documents Kabukicho before, during, and after the pandemic is something you don’t come across often—it’s likely to hold historical value in the future.
And seeing a work like this really reminds me: what matters most is to just keep shooting, no matter what.

If you’re someone who shoots street photography, you’ll probably get this.
When the pandemic hit and the streets emptied out, many of us felt like there was nothing interesting left to photograph. But looking back now, those nearly deserted streets were exactly the kind of moments you could only capture then.

And honestly, I regret not shooting more during that time.

OVERLAY: A Constructed Tokyo of Light and Illusion

Neon lights blaze, trains run with precision, and the flow of people never seems to stop. On the surface, Tokyo functions just as it always has. But Kazz senses something else quietly spreading—a subtle stagnation beneath the motion.

A city that only appears vibrant, kept alive by artificial lights and the illusion of energy created by endless advertising.

In JUKEBOX Issue 04, OVERLAY, Kazz attempts to portray this “parallel Tokyo,” where fiction and reality blur into one.

To someone who’s never been to Tokyo, these photos might suggest a city that never sleeps, glowing even at night. But as Kazz suggests, perhaps this too is just a constructed version of Tokyo.

That’s it for this week’s edition. If any of them catch your eye, make sure to grab a copy before it’s gone.
Thanks so much for reading all the way through—see you next week!

My Instagram: @_nuts.tokyo_
My YouTube: @fareastdarkroom

Dive into My Creative Journey — Through My Contact Sheets.

Haven’t grabbed your copy of my latest zine “404 CONTACT SHEETS” yet?
This 116-page zine brings together two years of black-and-white film work. With contact sheets from over 100 rolls of film, it offers a rare behind-the-scenes look at my shooting process — frame by frame.

fareastdarkroom.com/products/404-contact-sheets