Beyond Oblivion — A Poem in Ink, from the Edge of Memory

What Does “Beyond Oblivion” Mean?

There are things we want to forget, yet cannot.
There are things we try to forget, yet suddenly recall.
And there are things that, before we know it, have simply vanished.

“Beyond Oblivion” — speak these words aloud, and you may find your mind carried away to somewhere distant, somewhere just out of reach.

“Oblivion” is the fading and disappearance of memory — a function of the human mind that is, in equal measure, cruel and merciful.
Psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus, in his famous “forgetting curve,” demonstrated that we begin to lose much of what we learn within just a few hours.
Yet forgetting is not mere loss.
By releasing what is no longer needed, we create space within ourselves to receive something new.

“Beyond” points to a place far away — past the horizon, beyond the reach of one’s hand or heart.

When these two ideas meet in “Beyond Oblivion,” something emerges that transcends any dictionary definition.
It is the state in which a memory that was once surely there has quietly drifted away to somewhere unreachable — an experience of loss, and at the same time, a kind of gentle liberation.

＼　岩﨑翔凛のSTORESはこちら！　／

A Story of Memory and Forgetting, Told in Ink

When I first encountered Shourin Iwasaki’s latest work, Beyond Oblivion, something deep within me stirred before any words could form.

Bold, sweeping brushstrokes.
A generous use of negative space.
The light and shadow born from varying densities of ink.
These characters are more than writing — something alive breathes within them.
Rooted in the traditions of semi-cursive and cursive script, yet elevated through Shourin Iwasaki’s own distinctive voice, this work holds within it the duality of “oblivion” itself — fragility and strength, dwelling side by side.

What does a calligrapher think of in the moment the brush meets the paper?
Hesitation?
Release?
Or perhaps a quiet elegy for something already forgotten?

Black ink is a color that consumes all others.
Joy, sorrow, tenderness, regret — it absorbs everything, then spreads in silence across the page.
And what remains when the ink has dried is not a word, but the outline of an emotion.

Within this work, the four characters of Beyond Oblivion become a single poem.

The Power of Words, and the Power of Calligraphy

The Japanese language holds many expressions of quiet beauty around the idea of forgetting.

“Mizu ni nagasu” (水に流す) — literally “to let flow into the water.” To forgive, to let go of the past as if releasing it into a river’s current.

“Utakata” (泡沫) — the foam on the surface of water, fleeting and ephemeral. Memory, too, rises and vanishes like a bubble.

“Hanachiru-sato” (花散里) — a figure from The Tale of Genji, whose very name evokes a place where petals fall and scatter. She embodies both the beauty and the sorrow of living within memory.

And within the word “oblivion” itself, there lives the expression “the far shore of forgetting” — higan, in Japanese, meaning the realm beyond, the world of enlightenment.
Perhaps at the very end of forgetting, what awaits us is freedom from suffering.

Calligraphy delivers the weight of such words to us visually, almost physically.
There is a kind of trembling in it that printed type can never convey.
In the subtle wavering of a line, in the surge and stillness of a brushstroke made by a human hand, the calligrapher’s emotion and thought take form.
It is precisely this “living line” that draws so many people to Shourin Iwasaki’s work.

Bringing the Breath of Calligraphy into Everyday Life

We live today in a flood of information.
Open a smartphone and new content rushes in, one wave after another.
There is no time to remember before the next thing arrives.
And without noticing, even the things that matter most are carried away — beyond oblivion.

Perhaps that is exactly why, in this age, we need the simple act of pausing before a single work of calligraphy.

Shourin Iwasaki creates new works continuously, each rooted in the beauty and philosophy hidden within words themselves.
On Instagram, he shares both finished pieces and glimpses of his process, bringing the world of calligraphy closer to everyday life.

→ Follow him on Instagram: @iwasaki_shourin

The atmosphere of the moment a work is born, the scent of ink, the sound of the brush in motion — all of it lives in his feed.
Follow along, and let the breath of calligraphy become part of your daily life.

＼　岩﨑翔凛のInstagramはこちら！　／

Bring Something Real into Your Space

And there is one more thing to share.

Shourin Iwasaki’s works are now available to purchase online.

At the STORES online shop, you will find original, one-of-a-kind works — each written by hand.
For your room, your workspace, or as a gift for someone dear to you, these pieces are made to be lived with.

→ Visit the online shop: shourin-iwasaki.stores.jp

Works like Beyond Oblivion — born from a single word, a single idea — offer new meaning each time your eye finds them on the wall.
In the course of an ordinary day, they may quietly call something back to you, or gently give you the courage to let something go.
That is the still, steady power that calligraphy holds.

If there is something you wish to forget — it is all right to forget.
If there is something you cannot forget — that, too, is all right.
Either way, you are here, right now.

Beyond Oblivion — and within that oblivion, the ink still lives.

＼　岩﨑翔凛のSTORESはこちら！　／