The farmer’s field is not only his domain; it is his life – past, present, and future. Land is made rich by the fruits of past harvests while fragile, new growth promises sustenance to follow. Hand-printed on raw hemp, Nohara bursts with unruly golden hay, waving between weathered timbers. Its inks bleed deeply into earthen cloth, a nod to soil seasoned by generations of footsteps. It may be the sole holdout of a largely fallow year or the very edge of an abundance almost too great for a field to contain – the memory of seasons past and the mystery of those to come.