I don't really have hobbies. I have things I go all the way into, and nothing in between.
For a long time that felt like a problem — too scattered, nothing finished, no clear identity. Then I drew it out properly. Nine circles: Japan, cooking, systems, cars, writing, nature, visual art, music, video games, tabletop. Overlap them and something happens that shouldn't. The overlaps aren't empty. They're already full. Rice lager brewed with sake yeast and rainwater. A Pajero engine on the stand and a GC8 in the driveway. A blog post that only exists because of a photo that only exists because of a walk. 煌狐 itself — kanji, brushwork, the mark I use everywhere — sitting exactly where Japan, art and writing meet.
Some of the overlaps looked empty at first and weren't. Gran Turismo and every racing game I own had been sitting quietly next to cars for years, unclaimed. Camp cooking and picnics were already loved, waiting next to a campervan I hadn't packed yet. An arcade cabinet half rebuilt was already sitting exactly where systems and games cross.
Nine circles isn't nine hobbies. It's one person, going deep enough into enough things that they started running into each other.