People have a picture of Osaka. They see the neon glow of Dotonbori, a dizzying, electric river of light and sound. They imagine the crush of people in Umeda Station, a human tide flowing with relentless, purposeful energy. They hear the...

Ever wondered what an entire city’s personality, its unfiltered id, would look like if you stretched it out over two and a half kilometers and put a roof over it? If you took all its noise, its contradictions, its love of a good deal, an...

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You’re standing in the produce section of a Life supermarket, maybe the one near Namba Parks, maybe a smaller Kohyo tucked into a quiet street in Tennoji. You’re holding two daikon radishes, comparing the...

When I first moved to Osaka from Australia, a city where a private backyard and a personal shower are practically constitutional rights, the idea of the neighborhood sento, or public bath, felt deeply alien. Why would anyone, in a modern...

Walk down any given street in Osaka, especially in the early hours, and you’ll notice something. It’s not the neon glow of Dotonbori, not yet anyway. It’s not the rush of salarymen pouring out of Umeda Station. It’s a quieter, more found...

You see them the moment you step into the neon-soaked chaos of Dotonbori. The octopus-adorned signs, the sizzling griddles, the rhythmic clack of metal picks expertly flipping spheres of batter. Takoyaki. Okonomiyaki. To the traveler, th...

Walk out of Tenma Station, turn away from the broad, sensible main street, and take a deep breath. You’re about to dive in. The air, thick with the scent of grilled offal, cheap beer, and a century of late-night laughter, is your first c...

Walk through Osaka after five o'clock on a Tuesday, and you'll feel it. It’s a low hum that builds into a crackle of electric energy, spilling out from beneath the train tracks in Kyobashi, leaking from the narrow alleyways of Tenma, and...

The first time you hear it, you might stop in your tracks. Two shopkeepers, maybe a fishmonger and the woman who sells pickles, call out to each other across the bustling chaos of a Kuromon Market aisle. One yells, with a grin that creas...

The laptop glows, the Slack notifications ping, and the line between your living room and your office dissolves into a single, caffeine-fueled haze. This is the global reality of remote work. You've escaped the commute, but you're tether...

Step out of the polished, echoing expanse of Osaka-Umeda Station, a place of perpetual motion where rivers of people flow toward glass towers and department stores shimmering with global brands. You’re in the heart of Western Japan’s eco...

I remember my first real freelance negotiation in Osaka. It was for a series of photographs for a small, family-run sake brewery tucked away in the city's south. I’d come from a few years of working with clients in Tokyo, a world of cush...