I believe in the power of good stationery. They draw us unto work, reflection, and facilitate creation.

A good pen or paper shouldn’t improve your life. But it does make you want to sit down and begin, and then fades into the background. For me, that is essential.

My ideal stationery is designed with intent and soul

A pen that teaches you how to use it,

ink that excites but stays civil,

and paper that can be trusted with the whole arrangement.

The best pieces become personal

I don’t want stationery that waits for a special occassion which never comes. I want tools that gather life: scratches, notes, receipts, sketches.

Hello,

Kurashi no Bungu began as a search for tools that make ordinary days easier to enter.

  • I write because the stationery world is noisy. Everything is iconic or a must-have, yet very little of it survives contact with daily use. Writing is how I slow the hobby down. What holds up, what disappoints, what earns its place.

    I’m drawn to tools that reward patience. A pen whose character I come to understand over time, ink that delights without announcing itself, and paper that contains—especially when the instruments get strange.

  • Where I live now, good paper is hard to come by. When it does, it comes with a steep premium.

    So I make my own inserts to make fulfill my own needs and others here. These are small-batch, made by hand, and sold through a local marketplace. I have a full-time job; fulfillment needs to stay practical.

    The aim is straightforward: stationery that shares the spirit I admire in Japanese tools. A cover that improves with handling. Paper that can tolerate generous ink flow. Objects meant to be carried, marked, refilled, and lived with.

    If you are interested, please contact me.