關於 model drawing images ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

✨ จับจริง แจกจริง ขอแสดงความยินดีกับผู้โชคดีที่ได้รับสร้อยคอทองคำ 1 บาท จากการจับรางวัลแคมเปญ “ขุดแหลก แจกโชค” ครั้งที่ 1 ทั้งหมด 10 ท่าน

✨ สำหรับการจับรางวัลครั้งที่ 2 จะจับในวันที่ 30 พ.ย. 2563 ของรางวัล ได้แก่ สร้อยคอทองคำหนัก 5 บาท จำนวน 2 รางวัล และ รถขุดคูโบต้า KX91-3SX CE ช้างศึกอิดิชั่น จำนวน 1 รางวัล มูลค่ารวมกว่า 1,400,000 บาท

💥 ใครที่อยากลุ้นรางวัล รีบซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้า ภายในวันที่ 31 ต.ค. 2563 นี้เท่านั้น

หมายเหตุ :
เงื่อนไข (1.) ผู้มีสิทธิ์ลุ้นรับรางวัลคือ ลูกค้าผู้ซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้ามือหนึ่งทุกรุ่น ตั้งแต่ 1 มิถุนายน 2563 - 31 ตุลาคม 2563 จากตัวแทนจำหน่ายของบริษัทสยามคูโบต้าคอร์ปอเรชั่น จำกัด ทั่วราชอาณาจักรไทย และทำสัญญาเช่าซื้อให้แล้วเสร็จ ภายใน15 พฤศจิกายน 2563 จะมีสิทธิ์ลุ้นรับของรางวัล โดยการซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้า 1 คัน จะมีสิทธิ์ลุ้นรับรางวัล 1 สิทธิ์
(2.) กำหนดจับรางวัล ทั้งสิ้น 2 ครั้ง โดยมีรายละเอียด ดังนี้
ครั้งที่ 1 วันที่ 31 ส.ค. 63 เวลา 10.00 น. ของรางวัล สร้อยคอทองคำหนัก 1 บาท จำนวน 10 รางวัล มูลค่ารวม 250,000 บาท (ผู้มีสิทธิ์จับรางวัล คือ ลูกค้าที่ซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้าระหว่างวันที่ 1 มิ.ย. 2563 -31 ก.ค. 2563และ ทำสัญญาเช่าซื้อให้แล้วเสร็จ ภายใน 15 ส.ค. 2563)
ครั้งที่ 2 วันที่ 30 พ.ย. 63 เวลา 10.00 น. ของรางวัล รถขุดคูโบต้า ขนาด 3.2 ตัน รุ่น KX91-3SX (KIS) (CE) ช้างศึกอิดิชั่น จำนวน 1 คัน มูลค่า 1,150,000 บาท และ สร้อยคอทองคำหนัก 5 บาท จำนวน 2 รางวัล มูลค่า 250,000 บาท (ผู้มีสิทธิ์จับรางวัล คือ ลูกค้าที่ซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้าระหว่างวันที่ 1 มิ.ย.2563 – 31 ต.ค. 2563 และ ทำสัญญาเช่าซื้อให้แล้วเสร็จ ภายใน 15 พ.ย. 2563)
(3.) สถานที่จับรางวัล : บริษัทสยามคูโบต้าคอร์ปอเรชั่น จำกัด (สำนักงานใหญ่) เลขที่ 101/19-24 หมู่ที่ 20 นิคมอุตสาหกรรมนวนคร ตำบลคลองหนึ่ง อำเภอคลองหลวง จังหวัดปทุมธานี 12120
(4.) วิธีการจับรางวัล : ผู้แทนจำหน่ายคีย์ข้อมูลลูกค้าที่ซื้อรถขุดคูโบต้าในระบบ KADs (KUBOTA AUTHORIZED DEALER SYSTEM) ของบริษัทฯ ซึ่งข้อมูลลูกค้าประกอบด้วย
- ข้อมูลเบื้องต้นของลูกค้า ได้แก่ ชื่อ-นามสกุล ,ที่อยู่ ,เบอร์โทรศัพท์
- ข้อมูลการซื้อสินค้า ได้แก่ รุ่นรถ หมายเลขรถ หมายเลขเครื่อง วันที่ซื้อ ผู้แทนจำหน่ายที่ซื้อสินค้า
(5.) บริษัทฯจะประกาศรายชื่อผู้โชคดีทาง Facebook รถขุดคูโบต้า-Kubota Excavator (www.facebook.com/KubotaExcavator
) โดยมีรายละเอียด ดังนี้ ครั้งที่ 1 : วันที่ 31 สิงหาคม 2563 / ครั้งที่ 2 : วันที่ 30 พฤศจิกายน 2563
(6.) ผู้โชคดีที่ได้รับรางวัลจะต้องส่งเอกสารฉบับจริงในการรับรางวัลที่ธุรกิจเครื่องจักรกลก่อสร้าง บริษัท สยามคูโบต้าคอร์ปอเรชั่น จำกัด (สำนักงานใหญ่) เลขที่ 101/19-24 อาคาร 2 ชั้น 4 หมู่ที่ 20 นิคมอุตสาหกรรมนวนคร ตำบลคลองนึ่ง อำเภอคลองหลวง จังหวัดปทุมธานี 12120 โทร.02-9090300 ต่อ 449 (ภายในเวลาทำการ จันทร์-ศุกร์ เวลา 08.00 - 17.00 น.) ด้วยตนเองหรือทางไปรษณีย์ เพื่อตรวจสอบหลักฐาน และยืนยันการรับสิทธิ์ภายใน 15 วันหลังประกาศรางวัล มิฉะนั้นจะถือว่าสละสิทธิ์
(7.) ผู้โชคดีที่ได้รับรางวัลจะต้องรับรางวัลตามที่กำหนดไว้ รางวัลที่ได้ไม่สามารถแลกเปลี่ยนเป็นเงินสด หรือของรางวัลอื่นได้และไม่มีการจ่ายเงินเป็นส่วนประกอบ
(8.) ในกรณีที่ผู้โชคดีลำดับที่ 1 สละสิทธิ์ บริษัทฯจะมอบรางวัลให้กับผู้โชคดีสำรองตามลำดับ
(9.) คำตัดสินของคณะกรรมการถือเป็นเด็ดขาดและที่สุด
(10.) พนักงานของบริษัทสยามคูโบต้าคอร์ปอเรชั่น จำกัด และ บริษัท สยามคูโบต้า ลีสซิ่ง จำกัด รวมถึงพนักงานของผู้แทนจำหน่ายฯบริษัทตัวแทนโฆษณา และคณะกรรมการดำเนินงานพร้อมครอบครัวไม่มีสิทธิ์เข้าร่วมรายการ
(11.) ผู้ได้รับรางวัลยินยอมให้ บริษัทสยามคูโบต้าคอร์ปอเรชั่น จำกัด นำภาพข้อมูล หรือรายละเอียดต่างๆ ของผู้ได้รับรางวัลไปใช้ในการโฆษณาประชาสัมพันธ์ของบริษัทฯ ผ่านสื่อต่างๆ ประกอบการโฆษณาประกอบด้วย โทรทัศน์ วิทยุ หนังสือพิมพ์ โปสเตอร์ Facebook, Line, Website และสื่อสิ่งพิมพ์ทุกชนิด
(12.) รางวัลตั้งแต่มูลค่า 1,000 บาทขึ้นไป จะต้องชำระภาษีหัก ณ ที่จ่าย 5% ของมูลค่าของรางวัล
(13.) ผู้โชคดีมีสิทธิ์ได้รับรางวัลสูงสุดเพียงรางวัลเดียวเท่านั้น หากมีการจับรางวัลผู้โชคดีรายชื่อซ้ำกัน บริษัทฯจะจับรางวัลใหม่เพื่อให้ผู้โชคดีรายใหม่แทน
(14.) ผู้โชคดีที่เช่าซื้อผ่านสยามคูโบต้าลีสซิ่ง จะต้องมีสถานะการผ่อนชำระรถขุดคูโบต้าตามปกติเท่านั้น
(15.) ใบอนุญาตจัดมีการให้เล่นเกมพกหรือรางวัลใน การเสี่ยงโชคฯ โดยศูนย์บริการประชาชน กรมการปกครอง ใบอนุญาตเลขที่ 29/2563-30/2563

สอบถามข้อมูลสินค้าและบริการเพิ่มเติม ได้ที่
Inbox https://m.me/KubotaExcavator
Website : https://www.siamkubota.co.th/construction/product/25
สายด่วนบริการสยามคูโบต้า : 1747
ศูนย์ลูกค้าสัมพันธ์ สยามคูโบต้า : 0-2909-1234

#รถขุดคูโบต้า #KUBOTA #แกร่งเกินคุ้มครอบคลุมทุกงานจ้าง
#รถขุดยอดขายอันดับ1 #คูโบต้า #KIS #KubotaIntelligenceSolutions #คูโบต้านวัตกรรมอัจฉริยะ #ขุดแหลกแจกโชค

หมายเหตุ ยอดขายอันดับ1 อ้างอิงจากข้อมูลยอดขายรถขุดคูโบต้า ตั้งแต่เดือน ม.ค. 2562 - เดือน ธ.ค. 2562 อ้างอิงจากข้อมูลสถิติจำนวนรถขุดใหม่ขนาดเล็ก (ตั้งแต่ 1-10 ตัน) ที่จดทะเบียนตามกฎหมายว่าด้วยรถยนต์ จากกรมขนส่งทางบก (ทั่วประเทศไทย)
✨ Real draw, real giveaway. Congratulations to the lucky winner who won 1 Baht gold necklace from the prize draw for the 1th ′′ Lucky giveaway ′′ campaign. Total 10 persons.

✨ For the 2st prize draw, it will be caught on 30 Feb. The prize draw is 5 Baht of gold necklace, 2 Prizes and Kubota KX91- 3 2563 CE, 1 Prizes worth over 1,400,000 Baht.

💥 Anyone who wants to win a prize, hurry up to buy a Kubota excavator by 31 T. This 2563th only

NOTE:
Conditions (1.) Winners win prizes are customers who buy first-hand Kubota Excavator. From 1 June 2563-31 October 2563 from the dealer of Siam Kubota Corporal. Limited edition throughout the Kingdom of Thailand and leasing contract to be completed on 15 November 2563 There will be a chance to win prizes by buying 1 Kubota Excavator. You will have a chance to win 1 privileges.
(2.) 2 prize draws with the following details.
The 1th time, 31th day. July 63 at 10.00 pm Gold necklace giveaway weighing 1 baht. 10 prizes worth 250,000 baht. (Winners are the customers who buy Kubota excavator during 1 June. 2563-31 Jul. July 2563 and leasing contract complete within 15 s. July 2563)
The 2th time, 30th day. Nov. 63 at 10.00 pm 3.2 Ton Kubota Kubota Excavator 2 3 3 (KIS) (CE) 1 Edition Chang worth 1,150,000 Baht and 5 Baht gold necklace weighs 2 Baht. Prize worth 250,000 baht (The winner of the prize is the customer who bought the Kubota excavator between 1 June. Nov. 2563-31 T. 2563 and leasing contract completed within 15 May. 2563)
(3.) Prize Drawing Place: Siam Kubota Corporation Co Ltd. (Headquarters), 101/19-24 Moo 20, Nakhon Nakhon, Khlong Luang, Pathu province. Mthani 12120
(4.) Drawing Method: Customer Data Key Dealer Buying Kubota Excavator in KADs System (KUBOTA AUTHORIZED HEALER SYSTEM) of the company where customer data is comprised.
- Customer's preliminary information is name - surname, address, phone number.
- Purchasing information include car model, car number, machine number, date of purchase, distributors who bought items.
(5.) The company will announce the lucky list via Facebook. Kubota-Kubota Excavator (www.facebook.com/KubotaExcavator)
) with the following details. 1th: August 31th, 2563th / 2th: November 30, 2563
(6.) The lucky winner must submit the real documents in the award at Siam Kubota Corporation Mechanical Business, Limited (Headquarters). 101/19-24 Building 2, Floor 4, Moo 20, 20 Industrial Estate, Nakhon, Khlong Nong, Khlong Nong, Khlong Luang, Pathum Thani province 12120 Tel. 02-9090300 on 449 (within business hours Monday-Friday 08.00-17.00 hrs. ) by self or by mail to verify evidence and confirm eligibility within 15 days after award announcement. Otherwise, the waiver is forfeited.
(7.) The lucky winner must win the prize as defined. The prize cannot be exchanged for cash or other giveaways and no component is paid.
(8.) In case the 1nd lucky person forfeited the company will reward the lucky winner in order.
(9.) judgments of the committee are final and final.
(10.) Staff of Siam Kubota Corporation Ltd and Siam Kubota Leasing Ltd. including employees of distributors, advertisement representatives and board of directors and family are not eligible to participate.
(11.) Award Winners consent to Siam Kubota Corporation Co Ltd. Images, information or details of winners to advertise, corporate public relations through various media. Advertising comprises of TV, radio, newspaper, Facebook, Line, poster, Facebook, Line, Website and all kinds of press.
(12.) Prizes from 1,000 baht or more. Must pay 5 % of the value of the prize.
(13.) The lucky winner has only one top prize. If the lucky winner is drawn, the duplicate will win a new prize for the new lucky winner instead.
(14.) The lucky person who leases through Siam Kubota Leasing will require the normal Kubota Excavator installment status only.
(15.) Permits are given to play games, carry or reward for gambling by the Citizenship Service Center, Department of Governance, license number 29/2563-30/2563

For more information about products and services, please contact.
Inbox https://m.me/KubotaExcavator
Website : https://www.siamkubota.co.th/construction/product/25
Siam Kubota Hotline: 1747
Siam Kubota Customer Relations Center: 0-2909-1234

#รถขุดคูโบต้า #KUBOTA #แกร่งเกินคุ้มครอบคลุมทุกงานจ้าง
#รถขุดยอดขายอันดับ1 #คูโบต้า #KIS #KubotaIntelligenceSolutions #คูโบต้านวัตกรรมอัจฉริยะ #ขุดแหลกแจกโชค

Note the number 1 sales. Quote from Kubota excavator sales data since June 1 Dec. 2562-Dec. 2562 referred to statistics of small new excavators (from 1-10 tons) registered by car from the Department of Land Transport (Thailand)Translated

<3 <3 <3

#Galería
En su serie "Doublefaced" Sebastian Bieniek captura la vida diaria de una mujer con dos caras.
Con un dibujo incluye un solo ojo en los retratos, se colocó cuidadosamente el cabello ocultando el resto de la cara de la modelo de la vista,resultando en imágenes que muestran a esta musa de dos caras como un transeúnte más en Berlín.
Para conocer más del artista visita:
Tumblr: http://sebastianbieniek.tumblr.com/
#Galería
In his series "Doublefaced" Sebastian Bieniek captures the daily life of a two-sided woman.
With a drawing includes a single eye on portraits, the hair was carefully placed hiding the rest of the face of the view model, resulting in images showing this two-sided muse as one more passerby in Berlin.
To learn more about the artist visit:
Tumblr: http://sebastianbieniek.tumblr.com/Translated

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….