Living in Tokyo, I feel like I've always been in a big box.
I've been living in Tokyo for almost two decades, and it's a feeling I've always had.
Growing up in a rural town, my perception of space was confined to the buildings.
Outside, I could see the mountains in the distance, the trees in the foreground moving slowly in the wind, and the cars on the road were small.
There is no perception of space, it's just the landscape in front of me.
On the other hand ,Tokyo is a collection of small overlapping spaces.
Spaces are separated from each other by clear boundaries, and we can be aware of spaces even where there are no buildings.
Perhaps that's why you feel like you're constantly indoors when you're outdoors.
Within that stable, populated space, there are moments when I stop.
It could be when I feel a gust of wind blowing between buildings, or when
That's when I experienced the light that reflected off the glass surface of a building during the day and turned a "shade place" into a "sunny place".
It was only a momentary event, but there was a force of nature transformed into an urban space, as if it had suddenly blown out of the sky.
Although partial, the series VACUUM captures natural objects in the city by gathering light and wind.
It's a sense of perceiving nature not as beautiful or frightening, or as an object, but as an experience.
It is an intuitive, integral, savage, wild physical sense.