The moment I capture an ordinary daily life as an image of the world, the joints supporting daily life begin to wobble; connections between objects start to collapse.

The uncertainties of contemporary societies  gives me an impetus to make art and the traces of my hands suggest a fall and space becomes a material that should be shaken or be deprived of a form. I think that the role of art includes the presentation of such a fall or space distorted by a kind of undulation for viewers.



A pulse to pause, the next lunar eclipse

What I am trying to do is almost impossible, like stroking the moon gently.

It was neither hot nor cold, it was just right for walking in an unknown place.

Even the wooden pillars for punishment had to be there in the landscape.


It has been repaired and modified —with an emphasis on preserving the heritage— and is open to the public.

My longing to go there is similar to my desire for production. The front half of my body distinctly peels off, almost resembling a violent feeling towards someone. That feeling has the same pulse as a person living and dying.

Hairs stand on end.

I went to Sachsenhausen concentration camp on the outskirts of Berlin. And the back half of my body went astray.

Turning over the asphalt of the same road, again, this year.


Mar. 23 in 2009: I called to mind a kitten that had been run over by a car. It resembled a gnarled white knot. I scooped it up, covering it with a cloth, and buried it in the earth.
From then on I could not stop thinking about it, concerned that the cloth, if chemically impregnated, would preserve the state of that gnarled white knot; or else permit it to slowly decay. Though I did not exhume it, I still think of it. I think that the role of Art is to reveal the disintegration and to see the distorted space of those fluctuations.
<Text from The 1st Tokorozawa Biennial of Contemporary Art SIDING RAIL ROAD 2009>


On the road lay a crow, trampled by a car.
The broken crow, a gnarled black knot.
I found similarity between this gnarled black knot and one side of my production.
The aim of my work is upward, toward something, through that knot; and what I produce is the divide between fear and longing for death.

Thus far, I know little about that gnarled black knot.
Whether or not I should unravel it, I know not; neither do I know if it is in fact possible.
All that I can do is continue on in my work, because I feel that the resulting space will distort the world we know.
<Text from Pre-Exhibition Tokorozawa Biennial of Contemporary Art SIDING RAILROAD 2008>