The soul of a city is not made of stone.
I've never believed that cities are made of stone.
To me, they are living beings – layered, mysterious, full of breath.
Not blocks.
But corners.
Not structures.
But stories.
Beauty hides in places no one looks.
In a crooked green lamp.
In a tree at the corner, where a squirrel makes its home.
In the way the sky flames in the early evening –
and no one stops to notice.
We rush past. We stop seeing.
And when someone does see – they’re called strange.
But that’s how Nya Michi began.
From seeing what others overlook.
Once, I built a cello with a peephole.
Inside, butterflies danced in silence.
That cello kept its secret.
Nya Michi shares it.
It doesn’t tell you what to see.
It leads you into spaces where you begin to look differently.
It invites you to leave the main road.
To wander.
To lose direction.
Because only then –
only when you get lost –
do you truly arrive.
That’s the essence:
The path itself is the destination.
Nya Michi is not a show.
It’s not a message.
It’s a shift in perception.
A quiet return to something we never really lost –
only forgot to notice.
A rediscovery of the city.
And of yourself within it.
Photo: Öznur Ünal, creator of Nya Michi