The Home to Which the Noise Returns

There came a day when I stopped going on family trips.
I had been glued to my desk preparing for university entrance exams… or perhaps, I had just come up with that excuse.
The truth was, I simply couldn’t find a reason to go to noisy places with my family anymore.

— In other words, I longed for silence.

My family silently accepted it. Gradually, the number of trips they took without me increased.
They must have sensed that I was yearning for “serenity.”

In my house, silence never truly existed.
The TV was always on, laughter shook the walls, the ventilation fan hummed, and the air conditioner groaned.
Even if I curled up in the furthest corner of the house, the noise would follow me.

— However, when my family was gone, silence would unexpectedly arrive.
A silence so empty it felt almost unnatural.
The body left behind in the stillness experienced a strange sense of liberation.
The air spreading from corner to corner of the room didn’t clear with a “shh” but instead carried a tension, as if it were on the verge of snapping. I tried to merge with it.

I wanted to live in that stillness forever.

…That was my feeling for the first three hours.

Soon, the silence turned into a ringing in my ears, summoning phantom sounds that gnawed at my mind.
I started feeling ill, and in the end, I turned on the TV and played music…

— Ah, please come back.

When the door opened, the noise rushed in.
Laughter bounced through the air, the clinking of dishes echoed, and the TV blared noisily.
I frowned, but deep inside, I felt relieved.

The stillness certainly comforted me.
But it was the noise that connected me to something.

I hear there is something called “OYAKO Day.”
I want to celebrate that day not as a day to give flowers or exchange special words, but simply—
as a day to truly appreciate the value of the noise.

The discomfort of being alone.
The disharmony born from the interactions between parent and child.
That disharmony is my life, my comfort,
— and the place to which I belong.

by Nao Sasaki / age: 22 / Ebina City, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan

The post “The Home to Which the Noise Returns” appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

We look forward to seeing your wonderful photographs. Everyone is warmly encouraged to join and participate!

The post Photo Contest 2026 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

We look forward to reading your heartfelt stories. Everyone is warmly encouraged to take part!

The post Essay Contest 2026 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Please stay tuned just a little longer until voting opens!

The post Oyako Taisho 2026 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

The post Super Photo Session 2026 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

The post Oyako Matsuri 2026 appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

The film opens with “Chapter Three.” The world is heading toward collapse. Earthquakes, tsunamis, forest fires—catastrophe after catastrophe unfolds. Then mysterious billboards begin appearing across town:

“Thank you, Chuck.”

A sudden expression of gratitude toward a man nobody seems to know.

What is this?

At first, I assumed it was going to be some kind of global-scale disaster movie. But then the film quietly flips itself inside out. As the chapters count backward—from Three to Two to One—we begin tracing Chuck’s youth, and the mystery slowly unravels.

The “end of the world” turns out to be the end of one ordinary man’s life.

The 39 years of memories belonging to a man named Chuck—that tiny personal universe—is revealed to be equal in scale to a dying planet.

And that is something universal, something that will come for every one of us eventually.

What struck me most deeply was that the film is not about dreams fulfilled, but dreams left unrealized. The things every life quietly lets go of without even noticing. The movie neither condemns nor comforts us for this. It simply places that truth gently before us. And somehow, that sadness catches you off guard.

The characters, too, appear unrelated at first glance, yet are secretly connected by thin invisible threads. Life itself is like that, the film quietly suggests. And when Mark Hamill appears onscreen, visibly aged, the passage of time suddenly transcends fiction and overlaps with the audience’s own sense of years lived.

I was astonished that a writer nearing eighty could still possess this level of creative vitality.

This is not the kind of film where you walk out saying, “That was fun!” without hesitation. But perhaps that is precisely proof of its depth.

Among the human dramas adapted from Stephen King’s works, this has become one I won’t soon forget.

The post Thank You, Chuck — A Quiet Masterpiece That Slowly Sinks In: A Microcosm Called Life appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

May 3 (Constitution Memorial Day)

Screening of the film work Spring 1982 (@ Lanai)

A rare film capturing the atmosphere of the Showa era through the eyes of Bruce Osborn, shortly after his arrival in Japan.

The evening will also feature a DJ night with Bruce and friends.

Venue

Lanai

Home of the Masaru & Bruce Two-Person Exhibition.

Bruce first met painter Masaru Fukuda when Fukuda was still working as an art director.
Now, nearly fifty years later, that friendship has become the exhibition Masaru & Bruce.

Official Website

https://www.hayama-artfes.org

Inquiries

yoshiko@intheozone.net

The post Screening at the venue “Lanai” during 34th Hayama Art Festival appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

Oyako Day Essay Contest 2025 — Prize-Winning Entry

The Home to Which the Noise Returns

There came a day when I stopped going on family trips.
I had been glued to my desk preparing for university entrance exams… or perhaps, I had just come up with that excuse.
The truth was, I simply couldn’t find a reason to go to noisy places with my family anymore.

— In other words, I longed for silence.

My family silently accepted it. Gradually, the number of trips they took without me increased.
They must have sensed that I was yearning for “serenity.”

In my house, silence never truly existed.
The TV was always on, laughter shook the walls, the ventilation fan hummed, and the air conditioner groaned.
Even if I curled up in the furthest corner of the house, the noise would follow me.

— However, when my family was gone, silence would unexpectedly arrive.
A silence so empty it felt almost unnatural.
The body left behind in the stillness experienced a strange sense of liberation.
The air spreading from corner to corner of the room didn’t clear with a “shh” but instead carried a tension, as if it were on the verge of snapping. I tried to merge with it.

I wanted to live in that stillness forever.

…That was my feeling for the first three hours.

Soon, the silence turned into a ringing in my ears, summoning phantom sounds that gnawed at my mind.
I started feeling ill, and in the end, I turned on the TV and played music…

— Ah, please come back.

When the door opened, the noise rushed in.
Laughter bounced through the air, the clinking of dishes echoed, and the TV blared noisily.
I frowned, but deep inside, I felt relieved.

The stillness certainly comforted me.
But it was the noise that connected me to something.

I hear there is something called “OYAKO Day.”
I want to celebrate that day not as a day to give flowers or exchange special words, but simply—
as a day to truly appreciate the value of the noise.

The discomfort of being alone.
The disharmony born from the interactions between parent and child.
That disharmony is my life, my comfort,
— and the place to which I belong.

Nao Sasaki
Age: 22
Ebina City, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan

The post “The Home to Which the Noise Returns” appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.

In 2026, the festival will run from April 25 to May 17.
Photographer Bruce Osborn will also participate.

Exhibition Venues

Venue 1: Morito Shrine

《HAYAMA TIME》 Outdoor Installation
A large-scale work composed from landscapes and memories accumulated over 25 years of living in Hayama.

Venue 2: LAH Land

《Flying》 Outdoor Installation
A photographic series in which objects that had completed their purpose were released into the sky and captured in a single instant—an early conceptual starting point for Bruce’s later Nature Calls works.

Venue 3: Lanai

《Masaru & Bruce》 Two-Person Exhibition
Bruce first met painter Masaru Fukuda when Fukuda was still active as an art director. Nearly 50 years later, that connection has finally become this joint exhibition.

Official Website

https://www.hayama-artfes.org

Inquiries

yoshiko@intheozone.net

Featured Books

What Matters Most

A photo picture book created from approximately 9,500 parent-child portraits.
A book made by families, for families.
Kindness, challenge, honesty, gratitude—
What is important to you?

OYAKO

The culmination of 42 years of parent-child photography.
Parents carry the past, children become bridges to the future—
A photographic collection reflecting Japan’s culture and the continuity of life through this universal relationship.

Purchase available via Amazon

The post 34th Hayama Art Festival Exhibition appeared first on 「親子の日」Oyako Day.