Momoko Sakura

I went to see the exhibition of the creator of Chibi Maruko-chan.

Yesterday, I went up to Tokyo to see the Momoko Sakura Exhibition.

If you don’t know Momoko Sakura, she’s the creator of Chibi Maruko-chan, which, to think about it, was the first autobiographical comic I’ve ever read. The series follows the everyday life of a nine-year-old girl, Maruko, and the unique family members and friends around her. Growing up in Japanese culture, this manga and anime was a big part of my childhood.

Because I enjoyed her comics and anime as a little kid, and because she was so good at making most of her work cute, accessible, and fun, I’d never realized, or given any thought to, how great and dedicated an artist she was until yesterday. As a grown-up and someone who draws comics now, it was truly mind-blowing to see how detailed and expressive her drawing style was and how intricated and rich her colored pieces were, as well as the volume of her work, from comics to paintings to children’s books to essays. The most delightful part of it all was the sense of joy, devotion, and love—for both her work and humanity—that ran through all of her art. I kept picturing her spending endless hours at her desk, moving her hands, in deep focus and excitement. I couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time I allowed myself that kind of time and space without any distraction.

When Sakura died in 2018 at the age of fifty-three, I thought it was “too soon.” I wished she would’ve lived longer to created more. I still do, but seeing her work in (more or less) its entirety, it almost made sense she had to go so fast. She poured all of her into her art and never stopped pouring. It was as if she had a fire in her she had to keep alive even if it would burn her life.

I ended up spending nearly three hours reading and looking closely at each piece. My eyes were almost blurry and my head dizzy from the intense art-viewing when I walked out of the exhibition, but my whole body was in a buzz, my heart full. I felt so humbled and inspired and grateful.

Once I got home, I sat down and drew three different things, one of which is the comic above. I didn’t even have dinner till I finished the first two pieces. I pulled out the colored pencils I hardly use because I wanted to try them. I wanted to move my hands. I wanted to play. I felt a giggly tinge of childlike excitment and joy in my heart. Her fire had touched me.

How amazing it is to keep your fire burning so it touches and inspires someone six years after your physical body left this world?

I’m still not at the point in my life where I can dedicate myself to art full-time, but I will not stop creating, so, I hope, maybe one day, I can pass on this flame to someone who comes after.

Thank you, Momoko Sakura!

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The poster. Love the details in the drawing.

I could stare at her colored pencil work for hours.

Her work was largely autobiographical, so she often had both an essay and comic about the same experience.

The view from the museum. Beautiful, overwhelming Tokyo!