I have spent a lot of time in the forest for decades. The forest of trees feels like entering the Tibetan TONGLEN meditation monks'
pond, existing with a whole-body sacrifice. Entering the forest, anyone opens their chest and follows the energy of their breath, feeling vitality and the joy of life, immersing themselves in meditation with the trees standing quietly in silence.
They come to sense an unknown, transcendent power, spirituality, and an incomprehensible energy.
This is called supernaturalism, and many poets, philosophers, and scientists have written about the spiritual world of plants.
Reading those books, I couldn't help but marvel at the spiritual world of plants. The grain of the trees cut and spread out on the wood could only be called secret codes left as records of their lives, and I couldn't interpret them in any way.
For nearly 20 years, I have combined mirrors as objects as metaphors for the human mind, respecting the seemingly unintentional nature of wood grain but the fact that it seems to record some precise intention. I created it using flat surfaces following the wood grain, triangular three-dimensional forms, and kaleidoscope structures.
These are also methods of expressing the unconscious, and I have borrowed mirrors, which are essential items of my work, to give meaning to each thought.