I began referring to my photographic practice as “nearlism” around 2010.

“nearlism” describes my photographic practice itself—an attempt to face each subject and, through photography, approach the essence of things.
To approach that essence, I believe it is necessary to understand boundaries.
While taking as its point of departure the resonances of realism and surrealism inherent in photography, “nearlism” is at the same time an act of sensing and receiving the boundaries that surround us.

Boundaries exist throughout everyday life: between natural and artificial objects, between time itself, and between people.
They are not fixed, but continue to change their form while remaining close at hand.  Photography inevitably captures such boundaries.

“nearlism” is a practice through which I receive what is recorded there, and continue to face it in my own way.

Time accumulates like geological strata, as layers of differing density and texture fold over one another and gradually build into an immense span of years.

We are only able to share time and place when we stand in the same location, on the same surface of the earth.
Whether indoors or outdoors, whether facing a person or a landscape, this condition does not change.

If time can be thought of as strata, then photography is something like a fossil of time.

Upon the ground where such fossils lie, I have continued photographing as though quietly planting a single tree.

Since then, through encounters with many people, “nearlism” has extended its branches, continuing to grow quietly while changing its form.

The impulse to photograph always arises from a sense of an ending.  

For me, facing the subject directly is the most important thing.
The moment of confronting the subject through the viewfinder is one of the happiest and most irreplaceable times I know.
Whether the subject is a person, an animal, or a landscape, the feeling with which I approach photographing remains unchanged.

Each time I release the shutter, I sense myself gradually moving away from that place, as if eventually disappearing.
What remains is a certain presence, freed from consciousness.

“nearlism” is not a fixed style, but a photographic framework that has gradually changed through practice.

Within it, I continue to explore my own position in the present time.

To all the people, animals, places, and all forms of existence I have encountered through my work, I offer my deepest respect.

The tree called “nearlism” continues to sway in the wind, putting forth new branches.
Even after this page is closed, those branches will continue to grow quietly.