Tag Archives: creative lifestyle

Stir.

“Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays?”

abstract artwork with a lily and a shell.

how
the river knows

It was meant for me.

A lily bouquet with a tea cup and tanned toes.
A lily bouquet in an artist studio.
Close view of a spider lily petal on a sea shell.
Abstract line drawing of a spider lily petal.

Monkey wrenches flying across a rocky slope substitute made of stained concrete while all I’m saying is:

let’s get out of the zoo.

A wild spider lily blossom lit by sunset.
Spider lily blossoms, tanned toes and a sea shell.

“Who say everything’s been said.”

Text at the top in “”:
Ray Bradbury “Fahrenheit 451”
Haiku in decorative italic:
Series “messing with other people’s poems”. Deconstructed this time, Nick Drake “River Man”.
Text at the bottom in “”:
Nick Drake “Things behind the sun”

Drawing / painting are by me, the cup, the spoon, the rug, hat, vase and the gadget are store-bought, all the magnificent rest (including my toes) by The Ultimate Artist.
Yes my toes are magnificent, so are yours. Own it.
The second from top photo taken with a vintage iPhone 3GS, no edits.
The rest of the pictures are minimally edited to match the look of the above-mentioned.

The artwork in photos are all part of a two-piece series called “Spider Lily Red – Flare” I have been working on since autumn of 2012.
Took time to develop the style, as I aimed at doing something I haven’t seen anyone do before, that is authentically my own. 9 years on I no longer know what I am doing, I hear that is actually a very good sign that you/r art is getting somewhere.

References:
Making of the series in one post: “Process is the destination” (2019)
The whole process for “Spider Lily Red” since 2012 in descending order.
Spider Lily Red – Flare 1, completed 2017, with “artist statement”.

Last Edited:
October 03, 2021 – corrected minor grammatical errors.

Brave Civille, Limited Edition Prints


Illustration of a cow.

Art work is a portal.

In this case, a portal for dignity, truth, inner fight … for them to shine through.
Two stories about impressive bulls inspired me to draw, carve and print.
Slanted look is intentional; Informal is the style I am after.

Hand printed, signed. Edition of 10. But really, each piece is one and only.
The one in photo is my copy and is the first try. Yours will have “ print number / 10 “ next to signature.

Price: 3200 JPY ( about 28 USD / 25 EURO )
Material: Silver pigment ink and silver colored pencil (as touch up) on black drawing paper.
Dimensions: Picture 10 x 14.7 cm (approx. 3.9 x 5.8 inches), Paper 19.5 x 19 cm (approx. 7.7 x 7.4 inches)

Considering the current world wide socio-economic climate,
if you are in dire straits but must have the item, contact me.

This item is temporarily unavailable. Will be available in revised form in short.
Thank you for your understanding.

Scroll down for notes on shipping / refund.

Illustration of a cattle in display.

Shipping, refunds, other important bits.

Packaged securely between two cardboards in flat envelope at about 80g in weight, the shipment be made in registered air mail. No tracking is available.

Japan post has the superb service called EMS – usually fast, air mail with tracking, with extra cost. The service however, under our current global situation, is unavailable for many countries.

Please check this Japan Post page for availabilities. The shipment, unless you requested otherwise, will be made by “Letter Post / Air”, “Letters / NonStandard-Sized Mail / Ordinary Registered Mail”.

Roughly, the cost will be: 740 JPN to Asia/Australia/Pacific Islands, 810 JPN to Europe/North America and 890 JPN to Africa/South America.

If you are in Japan, I can offer Bank Transfer payment, and Letter Pack shipment ( with tracking ) at 520 JPN.

Additionally, I live in Northern Ibaraki, about 80km south of the famous Nuke Plant that erupted a decade ago. Been here since that fateful year, haven’t seen a godzilla, or better yet, turned into one just yet but who knows what future holds. If that bothers you, don’t buy. In any case I don’t recommend licking the parcel.

Oh, forgot to mention. The pigment ink is fairly durable against moisture.

No refund, unless the artwork arrived damaged at your end. Please ask all your questions pre purchase.

All this sounds confusing? Drop me a mail then at wave@yukonagai.art . I am off line a lot lately so allow me a day or two to respond.

Thanks for reading this far, and Best,
Yuko the Artzilla.

Last Edited: November 26, 2021

New Moon in Virgo

The year in review.

Ocean waves at sunset.

September 17, 2020.

Several hours before the moon to turn dark, I brought myself to my favorite sand dune, suited up in my swim gear, like I had been all summer. Mid day in the midst of September, temperature noticeably lower but water was still warm and inviting.

I kept myself pretty much out of the sea since Fukushima incident nine years ago and spent every summer in torment, pining for my ocean fix like I would for a long lost love but this year, after hearing some millionaire technocrat talk about nano technology embeds planned for regular humans like myself I made a decision that an extra plutonium particle or two in my snout wouldn’t be a big deal.

Rat and birds illustration.
Abstract artist at work.
Coffee cup with a leaf.

Usually this particular beach has chaotic white forms right at the shore giving me a clue about my whereabouts – as once in water, perspective changes and you become a minute miniature existence floating in the merciless energy soup. But this day it was a little different.
The shore break was nearly non existent. Smaller day I thought, and did not assess the current nor my physical prowess of the day.

Ocean worn found objects.
A sparrow on the zoo cage.
Fish scales close detail.

Over confidence boosted by over eagerness can cause an issue or two. Without realizing I swam out further than usual and not too long after I started to struggle. Exhaustion grew rapidly like never before and with each wave I had to duck my strength drained in heaps.

Then a thought hit me: this is how people drown. I recalled a news story about a recent mysterious drowning of an actress I had not known existed and my thinking, how could you drown in a ripple-less lake? Fear inflated instantly while my arms turned weighty rubber and I knew I was in trouble.
Then came another thought, this time with quiet, solid confidence I never knew I had:

I am not drowning here.

The next moment I felt the Guidance kicking in, and I turned on my back and floated to rest. But waves kept coming and I had to duck and duck and duck. There was only one other person on the stretch of the beach, and he, a surfer, was just getting in as I arrived, and was way over there to notice me.

Or so I thought. Few moments later I saw him walking across the shore closest to where I was as I called out “Help!!”, to which he responded swiftly.
Guidance strongly at work by then, and just as strong was the surfer who happened to be on the beach that day. As if automated I floated on my back again so as to receive help with least harm to this young man. He positioned himself between me and the horizon and gave several powerful pushes at my soles, like he would to a surfboard. Neither party said nothing, but the communication was in Perfect Flow.

Drying spider lily blossom.
Spider lilies blooming in the field.
Art work in progress.

What happened this day have been on my mind since. Thought about it many times where it went ‘wrong’ and what I can do in my future swim. I was fortunate, no doubt. Typing this I still feel my heart quicken.
Each time I go over though, this one point when I said “I am not drowning here” stands out as the pivotal one.
In my struggle I declared, intended from the very core of my existence. Calmly, firmly.
And with bottomless Mercy, Life responded accordingly.

Special shout out to Guidance, Mercy and the surfer I do not know the name of.

A bird feather.

Photos, from Top:
01: The beach.
02. Year of Rat rubber stamp, not quite there but I meant well.
03. At work, May.
09. Best picnic of the year – with my muse, red spider lilies, October.
10. The work, as of December 28. (Getting there.)
11. The best find of 2020.

Last Edited: 31Dec20

True North


Red Spider Lily blossoms, sea shells and paint brushes.
Art studio with a spider lily bouquet.

I was a child

of the sounding sea

love, that was stronger by far

in a kingdom by the sea

wind, blew out of the night
envying of the angels
never dissever my soul from
a love that was more than love

the moon beams, the stars rise
all the night-tide, the sounding sea –
bringing me dreams
of love, that was stronger than they.

Red spider lilies in a ray of light.

Pictures: Red spider lilies – how my muse looked this autumn. “We returned to vivify you.”
Work in progress: “Spider Lily Red – Flare 2”. Referential links to: Flare 1, Making of the Flare 1 in one post, and all the posts documenting the process since 2012.
Text: Poe “Annabel Lee” deconstructed/restructured.

Summer Sentiments


Leaves at sunset.
Sea shore at sunset.
Flowers and art works.
Flowers and art photo prints.
Hydrangea blossoms in glass vase.
Tanabata wishes at sea side.

Images of July, 2018.
From top:

The first two pictures are from 15th of July at sundown. This post was published on 14th. I didn’t time travel. I edited the post on 16th. Pics on the first version didn’t click. Intuitive click, I didn’t get. Know the kind I’m talking about? The one that gets your spinal discs aligned and chi circulated like a minty breeze.

The 3rd from top is a work in progress named, by a friend of mine, “Earth Fairy Dress”. I haven’t asked her how so but I get the feeling. Cut from the pattern for my current project “Spider lily Red”, “shimmering” silver pigment paint is applied on silk that looks more like a linen-hemp-canvas rag. Ragged but luscious, don’t know whether to laugh or adore. This is the year 2 of durability testing, the paint different from the year 1’s that didn’t quite stick.

The dress will be covered with slightly excessive layers of silver, I will then have to wear it through to the end of warm months, a guinea woman I will be. If the paint continues to shimmer, by the end of the test phase I may turn into an actual fairy.

Also in the photo 3 is a snapshot of the True Contentment. Time spent by the sea with my mentor who was born 25 yrs ago around this time with the tough fate to guide this human disciple, through thick, thin and Japanese humidity.

In the photo #4 you see lots of print tests. Well there is a section in this website called “photography” that apparently never opens. I figured I’d share with you what’s been taking place behind the closed website, so you’ll know I didn’t branch out just to say “soon” forever.

Photo 5 is dedicated to Hydrangea blossoms, their season ends as the real summer arrives, and with it enters Gardenia (as seen in photo #3), the last one of the, what I call the scent season, starting with Ume (Japanese Apricot) in February.

It’s sentimental-sweet, the Gardenia scent. That’s what my nose thinks anyways. In fact, Gardenia blooming itself is sentimental-sweet, happy-sad, oh-it’s-already-the-last-one excited-dissapointment. All the photos on this post are edited accordingly, in colors that embody the sentiment to me, that also are the colors of the season’s sunsets.

The last photo is of a Tanabata bamboo grass with prayer ribbons, not exactly usually done but works regardless. Traditionally the bamboo grasses with people’s wishes tied to them, they float down the stream (not on their own) on July 7th, the Tanabata day, but nowadays it’s loosely prohibited due to “pollution” the floating bamboo-paper would cause. I burnt mine. Then let the waves engulf my heart’s desires. That’s right, you’ve got to unearth wishes from the depth of your personhood just so they’d be set free, into the Immensity nearby.

This may actually be the longest text I’ve posted here and all I talked about so far is my favorite kind of nothing. I usually do my best to keep my words minimum, short like Haiku. Evidently this is not a usual time, it is summertime.

One last thought, and it is about sunset. Nowadays I take sunset very seriously, serious, as in, of value, one of many things I learned from the mentor in photo #3. One day on our walk at, you guessed it, sunset, I asked her, how do you get so excited to walk the same street the same time with the same human. It’s never the same, human. The mentor spoke in Hunch, and glanced at me in mischief, “you’ll get it one day”.

When the one day came the mentor already resigned from the role (it was too humid) but I to this day commit hitting as many sunsets. I get it now, it is a show, a theater, a spectacle, and unless you are an Antarctica penguin, it is on everyday, throughout the year, never the same, and always pretty.

Thank you for reading!!

Monochrome Diary, June 2018.


A leaf on sand at dawn.
Natural objects in studio.

A honeysuckle flower.
A close up of Agapanthus Lily.

A hand painted dress.
Art works in studio.

A coffee cup with found objects on waterfront.
Art studio view.

“No amount of time will erase the memory of a great dog.” – Internet Meme

Images: Late May to early June, 2018. 4th from top is of an agapanthus bud. 5 and 6 are details from Wing Dress (Velocity) and Spider Lily Red (Flare 1), respectively.

FAQ: What took you so long?

The year in review.

Port view from a car window.
Hydrangea from a car window.
Ocean front sunset.
A curved mirror self portrait.

August 10, 2017. A day before Mountains Day, a national holiday only a few years old, I hopped on my little scarred Honda and headed out roughly towards west. Compelled by the briefness of summer, I wanted to absorb the scorching of the season as much as humanly possible.

A Spider Lily Blossom at dawn.
A Spider Lily Petal detail.

Soon after somehow I took the turn I did not plan. General direction is right I said, my motto for a game I call “intentionally getting lost”. Just so long as I won’t miss out on the precious August sun for too long.
Well the path rode into the forest and quickly narrowed, to a single lane just wide enough for my compact. Winding as a large serpent would, on and on through the thick of woods that blocked even the brightest of the light. “Always a screw up, destined to miss.” An inner dialogue took the passenger’s seat like an inseparable old friend and worse yet at each hairpin, I grew deeper in agreement with her.

A lily bouquet by a car window.
A coffee cup by the ocean.

Then quite suddenly the serpent spat me out, into the bursting of the summer where I found a community probably the smallest I’ve ever seen. Tacked away in a valley between mountains are just a handful of housing structures, only some inhabited, lives held together with artful display of faded woods and rusted tins. Face to face with the unfolding quiet gem, with midday asphalt beneath my feet, I found myself alone in a place where leaves can be heard, streams carry life, the sun warms your shoulders and butterflies are free.

Art work in progress.
A coffee cup at a port.