Compose your frailty

Since I was a child, I have admired the sight of seasonal kimonos laid out on the tatami mat at my grandparents’ house, which inspired me to create this artwork. The design features the pattern of the kimono that has been passed down from my grandmother to my mother and then to me. 

As time goes by, old kimonos inevitably show signs of wear. Their vibrant colors fade, and the once-brilliant gold embroidery dulls, yet this wear gives them a profound and refined beauty. I believe this is why their owners cherish them so deeply. 

However, when I reflect on myself, I find it difficult to accept my own flaws and shortcomings. If I view my life as a silk textile akin to a kimono (in Japanese classical poetry, the term "view" also implies "compose"), I see that my "damage" transforms into a rich tapestry of experiences, filled with complexity and bitterness. When poetry and patterns lose part of their verses or rhythms, it disrupts their entirety; nothing can truly be missing. I created this picture with the hope that I can compose my life as if I were writing poetry.

Mineral pigment, Dyed earth pigment, Paris white on Japanese washi