Mirukashi
Ink
From the Collective
The salon is a home for many homages: my mother’s table, Hanako’s pottery, cherry and camphor woods. And there, in the heart of it all, hangs Yuki’s noren curtain woven from local vines.
Last summer, I stood in a covered alcove of a barn in rural Vermont, holding a block of cherry wood, watching my mother work. Seventy-five years old, her hands weathered and strong — shaped by a lifetime.
the PULSE
ABOUT The Author
I’m Prairie — I write for those who crave more than content. Come hungry and leave moved.
Welcome to Mirukashi Ink, the literary heart of Mirukashi —
where thought becomes texture,
and language lingers like flavor. I write for those who crave more than content.
This is a place to tether yourself —
to taste, to season, to meaning, to the poetry of living.
Pull up a chair and dive in.
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