On My Visual Fragments
My art does not deliberately bring disparate things into contact, nor is it based on a concept.
It is simply this:
something within the human being —
perhaps that warm, unchanging thing deep inside,
or something that comes from it —
is merely placed there.
It is not something I want to convey to anyone,
nor is it something arrived at through thought.
Something is there.
When one is able to know it,
life’s suffering itself is not resolved,
and yet one can remain in a state of great peace.
I am simply expressing that.
I am not expressing myself.
I am expressing that which I came to know had already been within me.
It is something everyone has, with no form, no sound, no voice.
At times, something like a faint smoke of sound rises,
and in order for people to interpret it, it is born as words.
Or it may appear as a shape or a line.
I am simply using art as a means of placing it there.
Sometimes it takes the form of human language; sometimes it takes the form of color or shape.
There is no intention.
There is no fixed meaning.
I am simply placing what comes through,
through the medium of art,
so that it may be seen.
My art is not difficult at all.
Why that word is there, or whether it has any relation to the form —
there is no need to think about such things.
Even I, the artist, do not know.
Whatever you feel at the moment you see it —
simply receive it.
Simply take it in.
That is all.
That is enough.