I was born in Yokohama, Japan. At age six I wanted to be a cartoonist. I attended seven primary schools. After i finished school, my parents' marriage also came to an end and I was sent to Tokyo to live with my maternal grandmother. We took to each other like a match to gunpowder, and eventually I was allowed to live alone in a one-room apartment of my own. I was ecstatic. It was paradise living alone and away from nagging grown-ups. And more important, now I could pursue my big dream. And I accomplished this first by seeking out my favorite cartoonist, Noro Shinpei, then talking my way into being his disciple. I was twelve years old. The next four years were the happiest of my life, drawing and painting under my great mentor and spiritual father.

When I was sixteen my father decided to come to the United States and brought me over. I was sent to a military school in Southern California. There I learned bad English from rich juvenile delinquents and developed a lifelong loathing for uniforms and professional soldiers. When I was expelled a year later, I went to see California with a suitcase and twenty dollars. I moved from job to job, city to city, school to school, painting along the way. But poverty wore down my spirit. After trying out all sorts of money-making schemes, I settled on advertising photography and prospered. My first children's book was done in my photo studio, between shooting assignments. The book was called The Ink-Keeper's Apprentice and was the story of my work with Noro Shinpei. After this I began to illustrate my own picture books. And so writing/illustrating remained a sometime thing—an elaborate and demanding hobby. But a couple of years ago, while illustrating The Boy of the Three-Year Nap, I suddenly remembered the intense joy I knew as a boy in my master's studio. It was time to reconcile with the heritage that I had denied throughout my adult life. It was time to continue doing what I loved best.