Contributed to Arifureru / 凡 / Mundanity, a group exhibition by daidai.archive. Urasando Garden, Shibuya, May 2026.

The series was made by walking through different parts of Tokyo over the course of twelve hours, allowing daily life to unfold naturally. Rather than searching for events, the work looks for traces: objects left behind, spaces in transition, quiet arrangements that suggest human presence without directly showing it. Doorways, windows, streets, objects,  ordinary elements that accumulate into an invisible structure connecting lives moving through the same space.

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About The Exhibition

Arifureru / 凡 / Mundanity takes its name from a kanji that leans toward the negative in common Japanese nuance. That is precisely why it was chosen. The exhibition reframes the site where the extraordinary quietly lives, in daily routines, residential spaces, and human gestures that accumulate meaning through repetition. Nine creative teams from Japan and Indonesia each brought a different way of looking at the same question: what does it mean to live an ordinary life?

Personal Statement

Tokyo, after ten years, becomes muscle memory. You stop seeing it. You move through it efficiently, almost automatically. So I walk, and the discipline of walking slows everything back down to a human pace.

At first, nothing really happens. Then slowly, things begin to surface. A pair of worn slippers outside a doorway. A basketball hoop that feels oddly out of place. These are not photographs of Tokyo so much as traces of people living inside it. The doorway isn't just a doorway, it holds the repetition of countless entries and exits. None of it is extraordinary, which is exactly why it stays.

Around noon, when my feet start to argue with me, I pass through a covered shopping street in Asakusabashi that smells like old wood and dried fish. Some storefronts are open, some are closed, forever, and I feel that specific kind of grief that Tokyo does very well: subtle, tidy, and easy to walk past if you're in a hurry.

By the time I reach Nakameguro, my own neighborhood, I arrive slightly out of sync with it. Familiar, though, not entirely. And for a moment, I get to see it the way I imagine I once did, before it became routine

Thank You!

This exhibition would not exist without the generosity and dedication of the daidai.archive team. From the very beginning, the concept, the coordination, the countless decisions that hold an exhibition together,  they carried the process with care and made space for each artist's work to breathe. It is a rare thing to collaborate with people who are as invested in the work as you are. 

Deeply grateful for everything they built, and for inviting me into it.