Aya Takano 

What humanity is currently doing to all living beings is, at the very least, devastating and catastrophic. For this to improve, I believe that the first and most important step is a change in human consciousness.
I hoped that everyone who visited my exhibition would take a journey through their own memories, and even beyond them, to the source where life and mind begin. Through this, I wished for them to encounter their own origin, realise that everything is connected as one, and come to hold compassion, empathy, and love for others — including all beings beyond humans.

Of course. I think of the exhibition like a film, with a beginning and a climax. The work you mentioned is part of the journey — it leads visitors deeper into the back room, and into the depths of their own hearts. That is why perspective is used, and the flow continues.

Since I was a child, I have been deeply drawn to painting, and I have rarely been interested in any other profession. I believe that truly great paintings can free the mind and expand existing concepts. They still have a mythic, mysterious power that allows us to access something like the collective unconscious described by Carl Jung.

I think most people only see colours within the limits of their own assumptions. (This doesn’t apply to colour alone, but to many things.) For example, imagine you tell someone to colour the black part of a penguin in a colouring book. Most people will simply use black paint. But the pure black from the paint hardly exists on a real penguin. Depending on the area, the colour may lean toward blue or purple, and where the light hits, it may be almost white. The world is actually infinitely complex. Once you train your eye to see it, the colours naturally become more intricate, subtle, and nuanced.

I grew up in East Asia, but I have been deeply influenced by Western painting, especially the works from the late 19th century — a time full of excitement and experimentation. As a child, I was completely captivated by them, to the point of holding my breath, and I still love them intensely today. I believe this influence has drawn me to oil painting.
I do feel curious about using the traditional Japanese materials from my birthplace, but I hesitate because they require animal glue from cows — and I am a vegetarian. Oil paints, on the other hand, are still made from plant-based oils, so I feel they are closer to nature. Using them is very sensory and satisfying; I enjoy working with the texture, and I think it allows my paintings to develop a lively, complex, and expansive quality.

No matter what the outcome of my work is, I am happy as long as it radiates positive energy and helps share — even just a little — the direction I envision with the world.

If I receive a collaboration request, I would like to accept it whenever possible. This is for the same reasons I mentioned in my previous answer. Ideally, humanity might not need to produce new clothing for a while — relying only on second-hand clothes and their remakes could be enough, since there is already so much that is discarded. I would be especially happy if the collaboration involved items made from organic and ecological materials.

I believe that life itself always contains an element of sensuality. One can sense it in the forms of mushrooms, the shapes of waves, or the movement of amoebas. In a sense, the state of human bliss is also sensual. When harmony and compassion reach their peak, that state becomes blissful, and the forms of beings immersed in such joy take on a sensual quality.

I believe that an artwork inevitably reflects the inner world of its creator. Although I am always trying to depict my ideas and the places I aspire to reach, rather than portraying myself directly, like all other creators, I imagine that all of my love, conflicts, karma, and attempts at atonement inevitably come through in the work.

I incorporate yoga and meditation into my daily life, and I am deeply interested in the insights and philosophical ideas that come from them, as well as in the concept of chakras, the body’s energy centres, which are closely related. I find it fascinating that as the chakras ascend from the lower to the upper parts of the body, they follow the colours of the rainbow, from red to violet. I have reflected it in both my drawings and frames.
It is remarkable that ancient cultures developed a system of chakras corresponding to these frequencies, even in a time when such frequencies were not scientifically known. I created these works with the hope that viewers will engage not only intellectually, but also physically, moving their bodies and experiencing the work.
Spirituality is very important to me, and I believe that bringing it back into cities overwhelmed by materialism and theory can be one way to help the world come alive again. As for the concept of the spirit, its definition may vary, but in any case — as I mentioned — I believe that the inner life of the creator is completely and entirely reflected in their work, whether the medium is music, literature, or painting.

It might be nearly impossible to perfectly capture the vision in your mind. Just as photographs or videos cannot fully record the atmosphere, emotions, or colours of a moment, painting cannot reproduce exactly what exists in one’s inner vision.

My galaxy their comet your nebula.