My work is complete in itself, simply by being there.

In Japanese, we use the terms shōgyō mujō (諸行無常) (impermanence of all things) and engi (縁起) (dependent origination) to express the truth that all things are in flux and interconnected. I am not a Buddhist, yet these words, though rooted in Buddhism, point to a universal truth beyond religion.

Tools meant to shape society and textbooks meant to bring happiness eventually take on an air of absoluteness, behaving as if they were truth itself. We humans, bearing fear and anxiety in the face of an uncertain reality, have continued throughout history—and still do today—to seek absolute things.Yet there can be no such thing as absolute permanence. And when something assumes absoluteness, it loses truth.

Existence requires no value, no ideology, no validation, no permission. It exists without even needing to be perceived by anyone. All things—including us humans—carry their own subtle rhythm, their own vibration. These vibrations resonate, intersect, and form relationships, from the faintly perceptible to the profoundly silent. Even in stillness, existence is complete in itself simply by being.

A single drop of water contains an entire universe and carries its own frequency. A handful of soil holds time and memory, embracing the life and death of the earth. Our bodies, too, like soil and water, are organic matter containing countless microorganisms and memories. Through the turning point of death, energy transforms and connects; we ourselves become part of the law of entropy, and that cycle continues to change, linking the tangible and intangible. It is a vast transformation without beginning or end.

Existence becomes poetry, and language fades away.


Kenichi Nakajima