Recipient of the Next Young Artist Award 2024 (Art & New Media Division – Encouragement Prize) and the NEW CHITOSE GENIUS Award.
The "Mobile Literature" series fuses bicycle-based mobility and projection technology with literary expression. Each installment transforms a bicycle into a projection device and visualizes a novel themed around a specific city, projecting its narrative onto the urban landscape as a canvas.
In this work, Mobile Literature: Ogaki Lost Destination, a novel set in Ogaki was adapted into a video piece. The act of cycling through the city at night while projecting the text onto the ground was presented as a video work.
When I took the train to the city, every person but me looked happy. So I came back to this town. Self-harm to keep despair at bay. Work without rest. When I die someday, I can rest as much as I want.
Gradually, the books I want to read, the films I want to see, the places I want to go — they're all disappearing. I'm afraid of becoming zero.
To believe that this world is good — I grip the light tightly, crushing it in my fist.
Cycling through waves of mania and depression, like pedaling a bicycle. The night of Thursday, December 7th. I saw a shadow using a saddle as a step to leap onto the Tokaido Line tracks. Every morning I turn over the thought that it might have been me, then brew my coffee. Both of us — him and me — must have lost our destination and be dreaming of somewhere that isn't here.
Touch it, bring it, pay it, watch it.
Turn it, leave it, start – format it.
Technologic, 1.3km back and forth.
Drinking. Smoking. Losing myself in acts that affirm nothing about the present, embellishing the gloomy days in my records and telling small lies to tomorrow's self. Last spring, last hot summer, last brief autumn, last winter and this winter — in the end it's always like this. For just an instant I thought I had grasped an overflowing happiness with both dirty hands — but in truth I was only dancing alone.
Please put out that light. I have no idea where I'll be or what I'll be doing from here on.
Future self. You might be carving Enku Buddhas deep in the mountains of Ibi. You might be selling stones on the streets of Shimokitazawa. You might be strung out in the entertainment district of Ho Chi Minh City. You might be watching lights like the night sky Van Gogh painted at Times Square in New York. You might be heading for Saturn on a one-way ticket, playing with the dust of the universe.
My grandmother died and I lost a home to return to. I was in this same state when I was drinking red wine at the Saizeriya in the Aeon Mall the day before my thirtieth birthday. In the end it's just piecemeal trading in emotions — but everyone has problems, and the reason they don't feel urgent is probably because people don't take them as their own. I watched Pulp Fiction. I drank a Malt's Premium. Whether unemployed or paying a hefty tax bill, there's a pettiness in me that refuses to ever buy cheap beer.
The night of the following day. I snuck into a sunflower field and ran between the flowers.
The moment I tore off a petal, I came to my senses and thought I should stop this. This isn't the south side of Kawasaki, and my passport has expired.
'That is a life that deserves full respect,' says ChatGPT — but then what on earth is this sadness?
2024 Video