The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg: Part One April 20, 2017. Right at this moment, we are producing a brand new, 49-meter-long painting for the show bearing this title, as well as a few other new works specific to the space, at a breakneck speed. It would be absolutely impossible to complete these works based on our normal schedule. I have survived in my line of work to this day, however, by carrying out such reckless productions. I became an artist in the first place because I was socially awkward—I still have an aversion to parties, not being able to make small talks at dinner gatherings and such—and thought that a painter would be a fitting choice of vocation for me, something I could pursue alone. Yet as soon as I was in art university and was about to make my debut, I started needing a few assistants. As a student, even though I had ideas about the kinds of works I wanted to make, I didn’t know how and couldn’t even set a goal. But I still needed help in order to make large works. I didn’t have money to pay any assistants, so I would galvanize my friends to assist me; the completed works would be incomprehensible to those friends even when I explained, but I would treat them to sake, go do karaoke with them, get rowdy together, and complete a work. As I carried on in this way, the number of comrades grew, and I started to feel that I needed to compensate those who were always helping me; before I knew it, we had become an organization. Alas, I had aspired to become a solitary painter because I couldn’t, and didn’t wish to, handle working with others, yet how did I end up here? Then again, perhaps it was precisely because I had a communication impediment that I wished to convey to the others, through painting, something like this: “Well, I may not be talkative but I actually have these thoughts in my mind, and you see it’s really hard to put these things into words…” So in the end I did have a desire to convey my thoughts, which proved that I couldn’t live alone; I had to come to terms with the inescapable reality that I must live within the human society. vol.1 @mcachicago

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村上隆のインスタグラム(takashipom) - 5月8日 02時44分


The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg: Part One
April 20, 2017. Right at this moment, we are producing a brand new, 49-meter-long painting for the show bearing this title, as well as a few other new works specific to the space, at a breakneck speed. It would be absolutely impossible to complete these works based on our normal schedule. I have survived in my line of work to this day, however, by carrying out such reckless productions. I became an artist in the first place because I was socially awkward—I still have an aversion to parties, not being able to make small talks at dinner gatherings and such—and thought that a painter would be a fitting choice of vocation for me, something I could pursue alone. Yet as soon as I was in art university and was about to make my debut, I started needing a few assistants. As a student, even though I had ideas about the kinds of works I wanted to make, I didn’t know how and couldn’t even set a goal. But I still needed help in order to make large works. I didn’t have money to pay any assistants, so I would galvanize my friends to assist me; the completed works would be incomprehensible to those friends even when I explained, but I would treat them to sake, go do karaoke with them, get rowdy together, and complete a work. As I carried on in this way, the number of comrades grew, and I started to feel that I needed to compensate those who were always helping me; before I knew it, we had become an organization. Alas, I had aspired to become a solitary painter because I couldn’t, and didn’t wish to, handle working with others, yet how did I end up here? Then again, perhaps it was precisely because I had a communication impediment that I wished to convey to the others, through painting, something like this: “Well, I may not be talkative but I actually have these thoughts in my mind, and you see it’s really hard to put these things into words…” So in the end I did have a desire to convey my thoughts, which proved that I couldn’t live alone; I had to come to terms with the inescapable reality that I must live within the human society. vol.1 @mcachicago


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