one that had surprisingly little to do with technology. Yet I can see now that several aspects of my life were preparing me for it - all the way back to childhood.

Virtually every Italian grows up with a set of rituals, especially the smaller, social ones. Those little ceremonies that infused childhood from the world immediately outside it. Like becoming aware of the smell of a perfectly brewed espresso long before you’ve even had a cup. The clink, clank, steam and sputter of the machine and that rich, nutty, heady aroma that seemed to be sustaining all the adults around you. And the growing awareness that your life too would eventually revolve around those little cups."

During my stay, I realized it wasn’t really about understanding this country - it was about experiencing it. And like everywhere else, you did that through established customs and commonplaces. Only here there was something more subtly nuanced and self aware about them. Like how you left your shoes at the threshold before entering a home or a tea house, or how you knelt on a tatami mat. Even before I’d read anything on Japanese aesthetics, or the role of Zen Buddhism, I could feel their effects - the tuning of an environment, the pacing of a moment. 

I simply felt in some strange way that I’d arrived - not so much at a destination, but at a mood. Later, I read about a culture that had arisen in 17th century Tokyo - or Edo as it was known - that sought an escape from the pressures of urban life. This culture was called Ukiyo (浮世): meaning a fleeting, floating, transient world. The part that intrigued me was the notion that you could suspend time amidst all the hubbub of the day. 

I went back to Ireland and thought about what I’d experienced and where it might lead. And then, after the course of many turns and a great deal of planning. Ukiyo Sense was born."