Osamu Obi


I am drawn to the unseen elements of the object.
A mark of someone’s touch, a scratch that remains, the fate of a wall that will rot after a long time of silently witnessing every event in front of it, a magnificent life about to flourish in just a moment These things, while in stark contrast with each other, have one thing in common.
Each object transforms itself minute by minute, as it accepts the markings of the time carved on its surface each day.
To my eyes, they are all transient forms in the process of creating something new.
I translate what I feel from each object into a tangible substance called painting.
To think of it, the painting process is also a way of leaving behind traces;
I am carving the traces of my existence on the working surface with my own hands.