SEIJI MIYAZAKI
Giving form to an answer that needs no reason.
I start with simple shapes—circles, lines, triangles—and move them around, overlap them, shift them, and move them again.
If something doesn’t feel right, I move it a little.
If it still doesn’t feel right, I move it again.
Sometimes, shifting something just a few millimeters suddenly makes me think, “That’s it.”
If you ask me why it has to be there, I probably can’t explain it very well.
But to me, that’s the right place.
It’s the same with color.
I don’t choose colors because they have a special meaning.
I just keep trying different combinations until I find one that makes me think, “Wow, that looks cool.”
I don’t really want my work to have a specific meaning, either.
That’s why I don’t give my works titles. I simply use numbers to identify them.
Rather than having a title or my explanation tell you what to see, I’d be happy if you could simply look at the work and feel whatever you feel.
“Something about this feels right.”
“This looks cool.”
“I just like looking at it.”
I wasn’t especially good at drawing as a kid, and I never grew up dreaming of becoming an artist.
But I’ve always enjoyed looking at cool design around me—old Japanese Showa-era advertising, signs in the street, company logos, street art, motorcycle graphics, and things like that.
Later, I started making art on my smartphone while waiting for taxi passengers.
I’m not trying to decide what my style should be.
I just want to keep making lots of things that I think look cool, without giving myself too many rules.
Maybe after I’ve made dozens or hundreds of works, certain habits or patterns will start to appear—things I haven’t even noticed myself.
And maybe the people looking at my work will notice them before I do.
I think that would be interesting too.
Giving form to an answer that needs no reason.
SEIJI MIYAZAKI