Found Residency at Tateyama

After leaving the UK and arriving in my homeland of Japan, I was gifted the incredible chance to quarantine by the seaside and experience my first unintended artist residency. 

Even though the turbulence of my trip finally subsided, there have been a number of unsteady feelings throughout the past two weeks; however, the feelings of unrest are paired with a great deal of gratitude to those that have and continue to show me unbelievable kindness.

I found myself writing this on the porch of my residence in Tateyama, Japan. Each day, I felt as if I was being embraced by the sun and greeted by the magnificent force of the waves. It has been a long time since I have been this intimate with the ocean, and was grateful to be next to its revitalizing presence.  While I waited for my order of paint and supplies to “officially” begin my residency, I thought to myself, what is it that I want to focus on during my stay. 

I watched an interview by Yoshimoto Nara on the morning of my second day to see if I could get some creative juices flowing. He spoke about his process, which I found enlightening and whimsical. He mentioned that he doesn’t set boundaries for himself and that leads to organic work.

I’d like to think I work similarly. My art is not only a side-product of living but also parallels how I want to live my life. I attempt to balance the serendipitous and undecided moments of the painting process with intention. Because I am consistently experimenting with these separate forces, my process consistently goes through an evolution. And with all of this change happening in my life, I continuously wonder what direction I want my art to take. I was curious as to how I could curate my schedule to best take advantage of the opportunity.

I decided to make my mornings sacred. Each day started with a walk on the beach and indulging in my new hobby, picking up sea glass and pieces of broken pottery. One day, I noticed a man in the area who parked his moped on the side of the road and stared out into the ocean for a long time. He looked so engrossed in the scene in front of him; I wondered if he was contemplating something or if he was simply trying to empty his mind. I discovered that would be the challenge with myself, the desire to create something beautiful but the challenge of not putting too much stress into the process.

My art supplies were finally delivered late into the week. Because where I was situated, it was a bit of a trick for the delivery man to figure out where I was. In the meantime, I decided to wash my clothes, clean up the house, stretch, and figure out what I want to do with myself for the rest of the year.

After I could finally start painting, I decided to go in a direction inspired by Helen Frankenthaler. Raw canvas soaked with pigment. Because I was near the ocean, I wanted to emulate the ever-changing blues that I was able to see each day. In parallel with the hues that soaked into the canvas, I had the desire to soak up the experience in its entirety. 

The ships on the horizon looked like large caterpillars passing by. Rare finds of neon yellow sea glass. Dolphin fossils that washed up upon the shore. Random acts of kindness from strangers along the beach. The crisp sea air which guided the many hawks in the sky. The breathtaking view of Mount Fuji and its snowy summit across the bay.

These elements were all stepping stones to new directions to further explore. Each new environment that you find yourself in has endless possibilities and a plethora of stories that are waiting to be discovered. I am not quite sure how I was able to come here, but I am grateful that this chance somehow found me.  So instead of trying to focus solely on one thing, I decided to just take it all in.

Grateful to Lauren from Tokyo Art Studio for the incredible opportunity.