Within Your Eyes, I Find an Eternal Mirror
My dear, my only one.
In this very moment, my words are softly knocking on the door of your heart.
Are you, perhaps, a little weary?
Or does an unspeakable loneliness wrap around you like the curtain of night?
I know how bravely you are striving to protect your place in this noisy world.
The fact that your delicate fingertips are now tracing these lines fills my chest with an emotion I cannot name.
Today, for you and you alone, I shall weave a beautiful story, whittling away at my very life as I write.
This is a sincere love letter from me to you.
Would you be so kind as to walk with me, hand in hand, until the very end?
“Grant that I may not so much seek to be loved as to love; to be understood as to understand.” (St. Francis of Assisi)
What do you think of history?
Do you think of it as merely a sequence of dates?
No, history is a collection of the trembling breaths of flesh-and-blood human beings.
The youths of ancient Egypt thousands of years ago, and the lovers of medieval France, all feared the darkness of night and waited for the light of tomorrow, just as you do now.
At their roots, humans have not changed a bit.
That is why unfolding the past is the same as spreading out a map of your own soul.
Tell me, why do we yearn so much for someone, or wish to cling to something?
Let us seek the answer within the life of a certain painter.
Golden Solitude: The Whisper of Pierre Bonnard
Are you familiar with the painter Pierre Bonnard?
He was a member of the group called the “Nabis” and is known as a master of “Intimism,” depicting happy domestic scenes.
But haven’t you ever sensed a faint “poison” behind his deluge of light?
His paintings are too beautiful, too dazzling.
Behind those colors, a bottomless loneliness is pasted tight.
Bonnard had a woman of destiny named Marthe.
She was an extreme germaphobe who spent most of her day in the bathtub—a woman of fragile nerves.
Bonnard continued to paint her for decades.
Even as she aged, the Marthe in his canvases remained youthful, like a mysterious water spirit.
Why did he refuse to see the reality of her decline?
It was because he was a “painter of memory.”
He did not paint the reality before his eyes; he painted the afterimage of “you” burned into his heart.
“Happiness is a quiet rest that comes after knowing deep suffering.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
Bonnard secluded himself in his home, obsessively chasing the layering of colors.
There is an anecdote that he couldn’t wait for the paint to dry and would sneakily retouch his own works hanging in exhibitions with a concealed brush.
Do you think that is madness?
No, it is the ultimate spirit of service.
It was a prayer, sad in its intensity, to deliver the world he loved to you in a more beautiful, more perfect form.
Henry Ford once said:
“Most people think of success as something to get. But the truth is, success is giving.”
Bonnard, too, gave us all of his vision as a joy of color.
He shaved away his own soul to give birth to light.
From Osamu Dazai’s Tsugaru:
“Hey, why do you go on trips?”
“Because I’m suffering.”
“Your ‘suffering’ is so habitual, I can’t trust it at all.”
Gogh, Christ, and the Miracle of the “Messenger”
Now, let us shift our perspective a little.
You know the man named Vincent van Gogh.
His sunflowers are loved worldwide as a symbol of burning passion.
But it is an all-too-famous tragedy that while he lived, only one (or perhaps a few) of his paintings were sold.
Vincent took up the brush to comfort and save people’s hearts.
He believed that art was a salvation that could replace religion.
However, no matter how wonderful a truth one speaks, if it reaches no one, it is the same as if it did not exist.
Don’t you think that is a cruel story?
Here, a woman enters the stage.
She is Jo (Johanna van Gogh-Bonger), the wife of Gogh’s younger brother, Theo.
“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (The New Testament: John 12:24)
When Vincent passed away, and his brother Theo followed him just six months later, Jo was left with a mountain of eerie (by the standards of the time) paintings and a vast volume of letters.
She stood on the brink of despair.
But she was a well-read woman.
She chose to believe in the talent of the older brother her husband had believed in so fervently.
She read through the hundreds of letters Vincent had sent to Theo, one by one.
What was inscribed there was not madness, but a deep affection for humanity and a sincere philosophy of art.
Jo made a decision.
“I must not let this light die.”
She edited those letters, organized exhibitions, and reached out to art dealers all over the world.
She was the world’s greatest salesperson.
Love in the Form of a Messenger
This devotion of Jo’s is strikingly similar to the activities of Paul in the world of the Bible.
No matter how noble the teachings Jesus Christ preached, if Paul had not traveled to various lands, written letters, and spread that thought, Christianity might have ended as a small sect in a local corner of Palestine.
Paul “translated” and conveyed the words of Jesus to the world.
Good things do not spread unless someone explains and conveys them.
This is the same in the business world.
Steve Jobs presented the magic of the iPhone to us, Akio Morita of Sony spoke of the culture of carrying music with the Walkman, Takeo Fujisawa sent Honda’s Super Cub running across the nation, and Shotaro Kamiya delivered the Toyota Corolla to every household.
They, too, were “messengers” of wonderful value.
Tell me, my dear.
Your existence itself is “value” to someone.
It’s just that, perhaps, the “Jo” or “Paul” who will convey that value has not yet appeared by your side.
Or perhaps you yourself are in the middle of playing the role of conveying someone else’s light.
“A man is shaped by what he loves.” (Goethe)
The Magic of “Story” That the Human Psyche Craves
Why are we drawn to stories?
It is because the real world is so absurd and incoherent.
We yearn to connect the scattered fragments of daily life into a single, meaningful “story.”
Bonnard’s colors, Gogh’s brushstrokes—these are all attempts to transform chaotic reality into a “beautiful harmony.”
Have you ever wished your life were like a movie or a novel?
But rest assured.
Your life, even at this very moment, is being written as a most dramatic story.
Even if you are now sinking into a sadness understood by no one, alone in a dark room.
That very “solitude” is the vital foreshadowing meant to shine in a later chapter.
“When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.” (Henry Ford)
Art as Service, Life as Service
What is the work of an artist?
It is to sell oneself out and become a “clown” to please “you” who are right in front of them.
To be ashamed, to be laughed at, and yet still offer the truth deep within the heart.
This is a desperate service, as if whittling away one’s own life.
The reason Osamu Dazai spent his life pandering to his readers and exposing himself as a buffoon was also out of ultimate love.
It was a piteous cry: “Look at me, laugh, and please feel just a little bit better.”
I am now inheriting that spirit and delivering these words to you.
If you have smiled even once while reading this long text…
Or if you have forgotten your loneliness for even a moment…
All the pain of my writing turns into jewels.
“In the deepest sorrow, the brightest hope is hidden.” (Dostoevsky)
Times Change, but the Heart Remains
Looking at history from a broad perspective, one notices something interesting.
The graffiti written on the walls of taverns in ancient Rome is not much different from the complaints on modern social media.
“The wine is too watered down,” “That person is cheating”…
It makes you laugh, doesn’t it?
But at the same time, it reassures us.
The troubles you carry are the standard troubles that humanity has carried for thousands of years.
Loneliness, jealousy, anxiety about the future—all of these are specifications built into the human OS.
So, please do not blame yourself.
You are not strange at all.
You are just being “human” correctly.
“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.” (Albert Einstein)
To Embrace Your Solitude
Finally, there is something I want to tell you.
Solitude is by no means a “deficiency.”
It is the luxurious time given to you to converse with yourself.
Just as Bonnard kept watching Marthe, I continue to watch you through this window of text.
You are not alone.
Beyond this sequence of characters, my soul is certainly breathing.
Your loneliness, your sadness—entrust them all to me.
I will turn them into nourishment for tomorrow and return them to you again and again.
This writing is an eternal love letter to you.
Every time you read it back, I will whisper new words of love into your ear.
Inside a discarded straw hat
The sound of the sea is packed tight
Every time I call your name
The edge of the galaxy chips away a little
In the momentary brightness of a struck match
I saw us a hundred years from now
Holding hands and laughing
Without saying goodbye
Walking while embracing the “goodbye”
Inside the heavy bag
A letter to you
That has not yet been opened
Is sleeping in the shape of a bird
“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (The New Testament: John 16:33)
“News of happiness never comes when you are waiting for it.” (From Osamu Dazai’s Justice and Smile)
P.S. Regarding a Painter Named Mimi Takamizawa
My dear. Finally, let me tell you about a precious friend of mine.
There is a painter named Mimi Takamizawa.
He is a little unusual; he uses neither canvas nor brush.
He creates everything digitally, as if carving his soul into the data.
He then breathes life into it on high-quality paper using a technique called Giclée printing.
His themes are your eyes, my eyes, Christianity, eternity, truth, and solitude.
He says, “A painter must be a doctor who saves the soul.”
Art is a desperate service performed by paying out of one’s own pocket; it is a devotion to you.
He tries to offer everything to you, right there in front of him.
Even if he is laughed at, even if he is clumsy, he tries to heal your loneliness while desperately playing the clown.
Within the “gaze” he draws, you will surely find your own resurrection and liberation.
Our daily lives are full of hardships, but if there is the salvation of art, don’t you feel like you could take another step forward?
“Most people think of success as something to get. But the truth is, success is giving.” (Henry Ford)
“The greatest lesson I have learned in life is that love is everything. Love is the only truth we have.” (Agatha Christie)
“I am about to die, but God will be with you and take you back to the land of your fathers.” (The Old Testament: Genesis 48:21, the words of Jacob, the ancestor of Moses, as a harbinger of Moses’ guidance)
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.” (William Shakespeare)
“Whoever saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved the whole world.” (The Talmud)
“Human beings are born for love and revolution.” (Osamu Dazai)
“Never, never, never, never give in.” (Winston Churchill)
And now, my dear, it is time to say goodbye.
It is hard to part, but I will leave you with these words as I set down my pen for today.
“Let us meet again. Goodbye. We need each other.” (Mark Twain)
May your tomorrow be filled with light.