As a Westerner I feel at a disadvantage in trying to decode what I am seeing. I feel there is something about this that is very "Japanese". There is a carefulness, a haunting perfection, a sense of ritual and frozen motion that remind me of their classical treatment of waves, fabric and ancient design. A study in patience. Quiet movement. I like how each line fits within another line, in a gentle curve ever unfolding. I think the process of making the work must be a kind of catharsis for the artist. The discipline required boggles the mind. And yet the rigidity of the concept carries within it a greater and refined beauty. Much of it due to Mr. Yamamoto's exquisite sense of design.
And here's how I understand it: within the labyrinth lays, perhaps, the totality of a life. Each turn the pulse of a beating heart, one's path so clearly outlined, yet only understood in the totality of the viewing. Life unfolding, moving, reaching and yet constantly turning in upon itself. And profoundly impermanent.


When did you become a Buddhist?
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