Ukiyo-e and Web3: A Gentle Expression of Decentralization

Author: Bruce

Have you ever wondered how an era is remembered? Not by war, not by the monuments left by the victors, but by those moments that seemed insignificant at the time: a cherry blossom in full bloom, a figure skimming down the alley, the look of a child looking up at the sky. That's what ukiyo-e describes.

In the minds of many, ukiyo-e is a style, a decoration, a vividly colored old Japanese small painting. But it is actually a "mirror" of an era. Look at Hokusai's "The Great Wave off Kanagawa"; that towering wave seems ready to engulf the small boat, but if you look a little longer, you'll realize that the wave is not a disaster, but a sense of vastness and openness in a moment. It does not seek to conquer you; it merely wants to show you—"the immense in an instant."

Looking at Utagawa Hiroshige's "100 Views of Famous Edo" series, there are no palaces, no magnates, and all the paintings are fishing fires by bridges, pedestrians in the rain, dusk ferries, or fluttering carp streamers. You can feel a wonderful quiet, it's not indifference, it's not silence, it's the stillness of "living really".

There are also the beautiful paintings of Kitagawa Utamaro, which are not eternal like sculptures, but vibrant, soft, and somewhat fleeting, like seeing a gentle face in a crowd, only for it to disappear the next moment.

In these paintings, the subject matter is not grandiose, and the scene is not crowded. They are obsessed with the "now" - obsessed with the faint light when the morning light shines through the window, the elegance when the weak wind blows the willows, the laziness when the tired cat naps, and the self at that moment.

If you compare it with Western paintings: since the Renaissance, Western painting has been pursuing "eternity"—the composition has a focal point, the light source has logic, and the characters have symbolism; the image is meant to "illustrate a meaning." The viewer stands outside the painting, gazing at the arranged world within. Da Vinci's "The Last Supper" and Raphael's "The School of Athens," the position of each character is like a scripted play, and each beam of light has a "master-servant relationship."

However, Ukiyo-e goes against the grain - it does not tell you where to look, does not arrange a main character, and even refuses perspective. The painting is laid out flat, every part is important, and wherever you look becomes the focus naturally.

The two characters "浮世" (Ukiyo) were not originally complimentary in ancient times. It is a term used in Buddhism to refer to this troubled and ever-changing world, full of ups and downs, where joy and sorrow intertwine. However, during the Edo period, it was reinterpreted. People no longer merely lamented the impermanence, but rather began to feel that since everything will eventually pass, why not seize the moment that is happening right now? Thus, "浮世绘" (Ukiyo-e) began to emerge—a craft that uses images to record the everyday, an art that captures the flow of time from an equal perspective.

The Ukiyo-e paintings do not set a main character nor elevate a certain viewpoint. You cannot see anyone standing in the center of the stage or retreating to the corners; you can only wander freely within the picture with your own gaze, as if you are walking into a city's dusk or an unembellished street evening.

It tells you: there is no "absolute focus" in this world. Every element has its own position, and every existence is shining, even if just for a moment.

It's a concept that sounds aesthetic, but it's almost philosophical. It is an acknowledgment of impermanence: an acknowledgment that everything will eventually pass away, not depicting eternity, and cherishing the present; It is the insistence on "eye level": you don't need to climb high to be seen, you stand where you are, and you have your meaning; It's a kind of "decentralized composition" of gentleness: no one dictates where you should look, no one dictates whose foil you are.

And then I realized that I like ukiyo-e because it's not just a way of drawing, it's actually a way of living. Not everyone has to be in the spotlight, and not everything has to be meaningful. As long as you are at that point in time, in that place, you appear, you feel, then everything about you has been established, and even this is the greatest meaning for you. Does this text of mine have any practical significance? Which is the meaning of my pen, your reading, the recommendation of the algorithm, or the retention of the system?

Nowadays, the screens have changed, the carriers have changed, but this feeling of decentralization has been rekindled in the world of Web3. We are no longer just simple users, no longer arranged spectators, but a node in the system, a point of composition, with our own visibility and a small yet definite position that belongs to us.

Everyone is no longer just an observer of the artwork, but is participating: signing an agreement, minting an NFT, leaving a transaction. Even if it's light, it will be packed into a block, becoming part of the consensus, a cornerstone in constructing this vast world from the future.

Web3 is not about making you a "star", but rather making you realize that "you are a stroke in the picture", and that is enough. No noise, no absence, no need to define meaning, yet it is worth preserving.

The world will continue to flow, we will all continue to change, but we are standing in this moment, with a name, a movement, a place, like the fiber of time, a clear bright spot, gently recorded. At that moment, at that coordinate, at that moment when the gas was burned, you were acknowledged: you contributed data on the chain, and you were really there.

The canvas structure of the world is changing. From looking up to looking up, from being organized to self-organizing, from the center to illuminating the whole field, to each stroke shining on its own. You don't need to be a "person who can change the system", you just need to be one of those who is willing to participate in the system. Even a small action is a kind of "presence".

If you consider each interaction as a stroke of a drawing, you will find that Web3 is not a script with a "main storyline"; it is more like an endlessly unfolding scroll. Each person is a point in the composition, and each point is unique.

This is a very human-centered structure. It does not ask who you are, but rather asks you: which stroke do you want to become?

Perhaps this is the gentlest expression of "decentralization." It's not about rejecting organization, but about giving everyone involved the right to organize; it's not about having no focal points, but about ensuring that each focal point gets its turn.

We're all here. It's not about standing on the outside of the painting, it's about living in the painting. Even if you've only been there for a second, you're already a part of it. And that's the best evidence you've ever seen in this day and age.

What do you think your stroke is in the Web3 canvas?