COLLECTION01

COLLECTION02

COLLECTION03

SWIMMING POOL

SWIMMING POOL

I do not know where it was, but it seemed to be a city in Asia, or Europe. Anyway, this story is about one of the modern megalopolises in contemporary society.

As she walked through the labyrinthine streets, a figure glided by, moving with feline grace, disappearing through a silver door nestled beneath the overpass. She felt an odd familiarity, for she too carried a bag just like theirs.
The door felt cool against her skin, an invitation to step into another realm. After a moment's hesitation, she entered. The space felt like a bar, dimly lit, with an air of enigma surrounding it. The walls and floors shimmered in the same silver tone as the door, casting a muted glow that seemed to pulse with a hidden rhythm.
The cat-like figure stood behind the counter, a silent guardian of this otherworldly place. When she approached, their eyes met—depths that seemed to reflect the vastness of the ocean, full of untold stories.
"I found a silver door on my way back from the pool," she said, breaking the stillness. The air was thick with the rich, haunting sound of a cello, the notes weaving through the dimness, echoing like distant memories, sometimes bending into shapes that felt both close and far away.
At the edge of the counter lay a small black bag. She continued, "I have the same bag. The shop where I bought it has vanished without a trace."
She noticed the jacket the cat-like figure was wearing, and its design was strange and unfamiliar. It was architectural, a collage of geometric shapes that hinted at some mechanical purpose.
"My bag, your bag, and the jacket I wear—they all come from the same shop," the figure finally spoke, their voice soft, barely rising above the ambient cello.
They reached quietly into their pocket and revealed a small black object—a 14-sided shape—placing it on the table. It bore a symbol that echoed the neon signs from the shop that no longer existed.
"In this world,  not everything is as it seems. Sometimes, what you see is not the whole picture. There are places where reality intersects with what seems unreal," they said, a cryptic smile flickering across their face.
"Perhaps this place is one of those," she thought, but the words remained trapped in her mind, unvoiced.
"We might be chosen, or perhaps we have chosen this path ourselves. This is a place where we affirm each other's existence."

Days later, after visiting the silver door bar, she went to a pool. In the early morning light, the water lay still and reflective, a perfect mirror for the awakening sky.
There was a tension in the air as if something was about to begin.
Chairs were evenly spaced along the poolside, and she sat in one, quietly gazing at the surface of the water. The morning light grew stronger, spilling through the windows and casting long shadows against the concrete walls.
In the ripples, she noticed a small black shape—a shadow gliding across the surface. A black cat stared at her with an intensity that felt both intimate and surreal. For a moment, she thought it might have been watching her all along. When their gazes met, the cat turned and walked away.
On a chair across the poolside hung the black jacket she had seen the night before at the bar. Light danced across its geometric design, illuminating the fabric's contours. As she closed her eyes against the sunbeam, intricate patterns unfolded behind her eyelids, a kaleidoscope of shapes that echoed the very fabric of her thoughts.

COLLECTION 03

I do not know where it was, but it seemed to be a city in Asia, or Europe. Anyway, this story is about one of the modern megalopolises in contemporary society.

I am in a hotel.
Whenever I create something, I leave where I am and go to a space where no one knows me.
In a modern architectural interior, I imagine people who have spent time in the same place in the past.

I head to the lounge during the time between day and night when the light still shines through the windows. From somewhere, I can faintly hear Erik Satie's piano. But I don't know when it started or when it will end. A pale greenish space of light catches my eye in the corner of the lounge. Bags are lined up there.
The golden chains attached to the bag's handles reflect the greenish room light. The reflected beads of light are cast on the leather as round shadows. I looked into the chain and saw my reflection on its golden curved surface. The figure appears to be a complete stranger.
In the room stands a person who looks somewhat like me.
They look older than me, but their detailed gestures resemble mine.
"You will be using that bag for a long time."
As they passed each other, they left with those words.
His voice sounded like my own.
The man wore a golden chain like a bracelet.
ed into the store from the outside and saw a strange-looking clerk dressed in black. The clerk smiled at her. She could not tell the gender or age of the clerk, but she thought the black-dressed clerk looked very attractive. She walked into the store with some curiosity.

Ten years later, I revisited the hotel to write a new story.
I carried the bag and wore the chain bracelet on my arm.
The hotel lounge still existed, surrounded by a pale green light.
As I entered the space, I saw someone who looked exactly like myself looking at the bag.
It was unmistakably 《Myself》.
After staring at the bracelet on my arm, I said, "You will be using that bag for a long time."

I will soon finish my novel.


Museum of Arts and Design in New York and Musée d'Art Moderne de Paris. The designer is currently based between Eindhoven, the Netherlands and Bangkok, Thailand.


Photography by Tsukasa Kudo