As I looked upon a beautiful tree-lined avenue with trees crowned in autumn’s brilliance, I thought to myself that it seemed as if the trees were all drawn close to one another, chatting happily as the day passed. It brought to mind myths of ancient Greece where spirits known as nymphs inhabit the natural world and dwell in trees, rivers, and mountains. Surely there were nymphs here and I chose a novel palette full of warm colors, one that I normally do not include in my works, in seeking to convey the positive emotions of those spirits, using color to represent joy, cheerful goodwill, and trust.

In 2015’s “Coming of the Spring” I portrayed a young girl leaving behind her childhood and becoming a woman as viewed, bittersweet, through her mother’s eyes. I wanted to capture the confusion, hope and anxieties, and the anticipation of entering a new stage of life. In the seven years since this piece’s creation, the world is more conflicted than ever, but the same girl from my canvas wishes to share a brighter future with all of us. So I revisited her, as a way of letting her voice call out to my present self and to the people of all ages.

Drawing inspiration from the works of Salvadore Dalí, a Spanish surrealist artist, I made a world where stairways and water flow between dimensions and realities. I first focused on the floor of my setting, making a foundation in a checkerboard pattern, and then I added in the surrealistic elements meant to draw in the eye and send the mind on a journey.

There is a hidden pool, and a secret lies within its serene depths – a connection to the universe. The water refracts light and dimensions while graceful carp glide and dance beneath the surface. A cat gazes into the water, timid as it peers into a world alien to all it knows, listening as if the carp are whispering an invitation to their visitor, “come closer.”

Stairways have always struck a romantic chord in my imagination. Spiraling staircases and concrete risers, especially, speak to me of transitions and pathways, ones that may lead us from the mundane reality into some other time and space. It is a potent fantasy, especially now when our world seems poised to take a step and change drastically rather than continue on as a quiet extension of the familiar past.

The world is rife with uncertainty and suffering and I created this piece while feeling as if an invisible hand protected and kept me from so many of the tragedies that unfold, unseen, all around us. Here, a tree of wisdom grows at the edge of a dimension and the planets all bear their fruit while an angel holds aloft a glass sun whose radiance nurtures all.

My inspiration in this piece started with a bridge near the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art, and a collection of works titled “At the Y-junction” by Tandonori Yokoo. Hearkening to the shadows depicted in some of Yokoo’s pieces, I wanted to depict an imaginary world just beyond an old-fashioned bridge, blending mystery with nostalgia. Here, stepping across the water brings the viewer into a world where the familiar sights of traffic lights become trees and furtive, mischievous demons amuse the viewer’s gaze.

I often feel a sense of melancholy as summer slowly gives way to autumn. I painted the grasses, hoping to convey with my brushstrokes the excitement I would feel during the hot days of my childhood’s summer vacation. In those days, I remember that the hip-high grasses would appear as a rich blue-green shade before the sun had blazed away the morning dew.

One of the most haunting and memorable sights in my life was the night sky reflecting with mirror-like perfection upon the tranquil, glassy waters of a lake. I will never forget the stillness of the night, the brilliance of the stars and moon, and the peace and serenity I felt in gazing upon the skies – the one above me and the sky held within the water.

I painted “Southern Sea Fairies” on a small canvas a year after painting the original and I used a brighter and purer palette to convey lightness and innocence. Mythologies in other parts of the world hold that the Siren is a creature that only leads sailors astray, stranding or even bringing about their demise with her beautiful singing voice, but in my work my fairies are more innocent and only seek to play with the seaweed that’s stirred up by the large waves of the Indian Ocean. Thinking of the natural world as more innocent and pure may be an oriental quality.”

As I looked upon a beautiful tree-lined avenue with trees crowned in autumn’s brilliance, I thought to myself that it seemed as if the trees were all drawn close to one another, chatting happily as the day passed. It brought to mind myths of ancient Greece where spirits known as nymphs inhabit the natural world and dwell in trees, rivers, and mountains. Surely there were nymphs here and I chose a novel palette full of warm colors, one that I normally do not include in my works, in seeking to convey the positive emotions of those spirits, using color to represent joy, cheerful goodwill, and trust.

In 2015’s “Coming of the Spring” I portrayed a young girl leaving behind her childhood and becoming a woman as viewed, bittersweet, through her mother’s eyes. I wanted to capture the confusion, hope and anxieties, and the anticipation of entering a new stage of life. In the seven years since this piece’s creation, the world is more conflicted than ever, but the same girl from my canvas wishes to share a brighter future with all of us. So I revisited her, as a way of letting her voice call out to my present self and to the people of all ages.

Drawing inspiration from the works of Salvadore Dalí, a Spanish surrealist artist, I made a world where stairways and water flow between dimensions and realities. I first focused on the floor of my setting, making a foundation in a checkerboard pattern, and then I added in the surrealistic elements meant to draw in the eye and send the mind on a journey.

There is a hidden pool, and a secret lies within its serene depths – a connection to the universe. The water refracts light and dimensions while graceful carp glide and dance beneath the surface. A cat gazes into the water, timid as it peers into a world alien to all it knows, listening as if the carp are whispering an invitation to their visitor, “come closer.”

Stairways have always struck a romantic chord in my imagination. Spiraling staircases and concrete risers, especially, speak to me of transitions and pathways, ones that may lead us from the mundane reality into some other time and space. It is a potent fantasy, especially now when our world seems poised to take a step and change drastically rather than continue on as a quiet extension of the familiar past.

The world is rife with uncertainty and suffering and I created this piece while feeling as if an invisible hand protected and kept me from so many of the tragedies that unfold, unseen, all around us. Here, a tree of wisdom grows at the edge of a dimension and the planets all bear their fruit while an angel holds aloft a glass sun whose radiance nurtures all.

My inspiration in this piece started with a bridge near the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art, and a collection of works titled “At the Y-junction” by Tandonori Yokoo. Hearkening to the shadows depicted in some of Yokoo’s pieces, I wanted to depict an imaginary world just beyond an old-fashioned bridge, blending mystery with nostalgia. Here, stepping across the water brings the viewer into a world where the familiar sights of traffic lights become trees and furtive, mischievous demons amuse the viewer’s gaze.

I often feel a sense of melancholy as summer slowly gives way to autumn. I painted the grasses, hoping to convey with my brushstrokes the excitement I would feel during the hot days of my childhood’s summer vacation. In those days, I remember that the hip-high grasses would appear as a rich blue-green shade before the sun had blazed away the morning dew.

One of the most haunting and memorable sights in my life was the night sky reflecting with mirror-like perfection upon the tranquil, glassy waters of a lake. I will never forget the stillness of the night, the brilliance of the stars and moon, and the peace and serenity I felt in gazing upon the skies – the one above me and the sky held within the water.

I painted “Southern Sea Fairies” on a small canvas a year after painting the original and I used a brighter and purer palette to convey lightness and innocence. Mythologies in other parts of the world hold that the Siren is a creature that only leads sailors astray, stranding or even bringing about their demise with her beautiful singing voice, but in my work my fairies are more innocent and only seek to play with the seaweed that’s stirred up by the large waves of the Indian Ocean. Thinking of the natural world as more innocent and pure may be an oriental quality.”