Yoshitomo Nara

I’ve always been the artist who moves through phases of obsession. I fixate on an artist, study their work, and let it influence me until something from them seeps into my process. Lately, that artist has been Yoshitomo Nara.

His work resonates with me in a way that feels familiar and distant—like something I recognize but haven’t fully reached yet. His style isn’t complicated, but it carries a depth that makes me question everything I’ve tried to say with my paintings. His characters are simple, often solitary figures with piercing eyes, but they hold so much weight. That kind of emotional clarity is what makes his work feel complete in a way mine doesn’t—yet.

Recently, I watched a documentary on YouTube called Traveling with Yoshitomo Nara. It was more than just a look at his work; it was a glimpse into his process, his world. It showed the meticulous way he curates his exhibitions—how every piece is placed with intention, how each detail matters. It made me reflect on my own approach to art.

I’ve struggled with staying consistent in my style. There’s always that urge to experiment, to switch things up, to chase something new. But watching Nara made me realize that true growth isn’t about constantly reinventing yourself—it’s about refining what’s already there. His art has evolved over the years, but its core essence has remained the same. That’s what makes it powerful.

More than just his style, what I admire most about Nara is his ability to create something deeply personal yet universally understood. His work doesn’t scream for attention; it just is. And that, in itself, is enough.

Right now, I’m in a phase of learning—studying, absorbing, and creating. Not to mimic, but to understand. To push my own work toward a space where it feels just as intentional, just as complete. Maybe, with time, I’ll get there.