People do tend to fear and despise shamans but turn to them in times of desperation. Such a contradiction is a human characteristic, no? I'm more pulled to the human drama of shamans - their experience in society and identity struggles - than their transcendental power. Their drastic lives enable them to empathize with others and provide solace.

Art-making is an extension of the kind of spiritual process that shamans unfold in order to demonstrate the connectedness of the world beyond reality.

The subjects in my work appear as unidentified ghosts that can't be said to be of this world. I've decided to call them incarnations. In various religions, myths, and legends, the word "incarnation" refers to the birth or emergence of transcendent beings in the form of humans or other bodies. If "incarnation" denotes the appearance of an abstract being in some concrete form, in a gut ceremony, a shaman could be considered an incarnation of our desires, hopes, and sorrows. The incarnations that appear in my work are always new and I meet them for the first time by drawing them.

Desire and loss of will tend to hurt the mind, which can lead to fear and compulsion. The result is that we suppress negative emotions, which we've been taught to be shameful of and hide, such as pain, anger, sorrow, and resentment. I take these complex and varied emotions surrounded by obscurity, absurdity, contradiction, and events out of our control such as tragedy, and project them in my work. So I understand that the images can generate fear, confusion, and anxiety in the audience, and if they're difficult to turn away from, it only means that my intention has been communicated.

Not only is hair a part of the body, but because it continues to grow for a time after death, it was considered a symbol of life and spiritual power. Likewise, hair to me is an element of mystery and an intriguing subject that rouses my imagination.

People do tend to fear and despise shamans but turn to them in times of desperation. Such a contradiction is a human characteristic, no? I'm more pulled to the human drama of shamans - their experience in society and identity struggles - than their transcendental power. Their drastic lives enable them to empathize with others and provide solace.

Sound words can't be understood through formal study of the language alone. They're felt when you immerse yourself in the culture or lifestyle that becomes a part of you. The Japanese language is abundant with onomatopoeia. Even though I've lived in Japan a long time, sound words are still an uncertain territory. And I think new words are being created every day. Even when I don't know a word I can sometimes connect it to a meaning using the sensations produced by the sounds, which feels like I'm playing with words.