When I was a child, I was fascinated by the aura that the boxes of imported sweets gave off. It was the beautiful meaning that the mysterious letters were supposed to be telling us, and the information that flowed in to solve the mystery was a taste and smell that I had never experienced before, imagined from the exotic landscape depicted on the box. It is a special kind of stimulation that does not exist in the physical realm.
Foreign letters, which later evolved into the concept of imaginary symbols, also influenced the way I titled my works.
I believe that titles are not meant to describe the work, but to be described by the work. For example, the word "rose" does not describe a rose. The fragrance of the rose explains the word rose.
That's why I started to use imaginary symbols in the titles of my works, but I had to go through a little ritual to create words as imaginary symbols.
When you avoid a meaningful word to make a non-word, if you arbitrarily choose a spelling, the intent for which you chose it will grow like a germ. I think this is pretty close to a pathological obsession, but with a little ingenuity I was able to calm it down.
It is the rearrangement of letters. For example, the title "Targelin" is originally the word Triangle. Since the work is about triangles, the first step is to choose the word Triangle. The next step is to rearrange the letters and convert them into a non-word that can be read aloud. However, I don't intend to give you a quiz at all.
I am waiting for the work to add fragrance to the innocent words. In other words, it is a fermentation of words.
The photo at the bottom is an LP record I bought a long time ago, titled Hidden Music, which is a parody of Marcel Duchamp.
The real Duchamp's work is an opaque container that contains something that makes a sound when shaken, but what it contains is left to the imagination.
Now, the beauty of this record is that the vinyl wrapping has not been torn off. In other words, it has never been heard. Can't you hear the enclosed music?