Cherry Blossom Hanami reads sakura in its authentic dusky register — pale pink petals and dark branch-silhouettes against the grey-mauve of bark and twilight, never the bright cream of a postcard. The mood is mono no aware: the gentle, fleeting ache of blossoms that fall as soon as they open.

This system honours yohaku — the cultivated emptiness of Japanese space. Sparse branch shadows reach across large negative fields, a few petals drift off-centre, and Shippori Mincho carries the quiet weight of the page. Nothing is crowded; the silence between elements does as much work as the petals.