日常生活の中で聞き取れず私の頭の中をいっぱいにした英語のアーカイブ。きっとだんだんと私と、私の家の一部になっていく...☁️
英語に住まうということ[2025]
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Even after four months in the Netherlands, I still understand only about half of conversations. When an unfamiliar word appears, its new sound fills my head completely.
This work rethinks and accepts my current ability, which often feels negative. I see it instead as a fragile and temporary sense that exists only at this moment in my life.
Words I couldn’t catch in daily conversations with my friends are knitted and placed on the furniture in my home. As I live with these fabrics, the yarn slowly unravels. Knitting has no knots, and it can always return to a single thread. Through this process, the words gradually become part of me and part of my home. The yarn is inspired by materials familiar in my home, such as towel, and mirror, so that it can truly become part of my place.
Knitting is also completely new to me, just like English. The process of forming a surface by building up loop after loop feels like getting a lot of English words everyday. The many mistakes in the knitting reflect my current situation, learning English from friends who also speak it imperfectly.
Dwelling in English [2025]
#typography
Even after four months in the Netherlands, I still understand only about half of conversations. When an unfamiliar word appears, its new sound fills my head completely.
This work rethinks and accepts my current ability, which often feels negative. I see it instead as a fragile and temporary sense that exists only at this moment in my life.
Words I couldn’t catch in daily conversations with my friends are knitted and placed on the furniture in my home. As I live with these fabrics, the yarn slowly unravels. Knitting has no knots, and it can always return to a single thread. Through this process, the words gradually become part of me and part of my home. The yarn is inspired by materials familiar in my home, such as towel, and mirror, so that it can truly become part of my place.
Knitting is also completely new to me, just like English. The process of forming a surface by building up loop after loop feels like getting a lot of English words everyday. The many mistakes in the knitting reflect my current situation, learning English from friends who also speak it imperfectly.
Dwelling in English [2025]
英語に住まうということ
#typography
去年のフィリピン滞在中に作った手づくりzineの記録です🖐🏻🥔✴︎
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On weekends, I walk around the city with a old small camera and record things I see for the first time. On Mondays, I show those photos and notes to him, and little by little, I learn about the everyday life of this city that I don’t know well yet.
After suddenly thinking, “Maybe I want to study in the Netherlands,” this is a small record of my exchanges with my English teacher, Hanson, during the one month I stayed in the Philippines to study English.
Dear T. Hanson [2024]
Photographed in Mactan Island, Philippines
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週末は小さなカメラを持って街をひたすら歩き、初めて目にするものを記録する。 月曜日になるとその写真やメモを先生に見せながら、まだよく知らないこの街の暮らしについてほんの少しだけ、教えてもらう。
「オランダに留学したいかもしれない」と急に思い立ったあと、英語を学ぶために1か月滞在したフィリピンでの、英語の先生Hansonとのささやかなやりとりの記録。
Dear T. Hanson [2024]
フィリピン マクタン島にて撮影
#平面設計 #zine
When Tokyo declared its first state of emergency for COVID-19 in April 2020, I began making daily video calls with my two friends. Gradually, we switched the camera from the front-facing one (which we usually use for online meetings) to the back camera of the iPhone, so we could share whatever we were seeing at that moment, our rooms, desks, laptop screens, movies, and our neighborhoods.
‘remote collage’ is an art book that archives the images we captured as screenshots from these calls.
At that time, many people felt as if life had stopped, but we were still very much alive, quiet, present, and living our everyday lives.
remote collage [2020]
Rina Kimura
Momoko Negishi
Ayari Nakamura
When Tokyo declared its first state of emergency for COVID-19 in April 2020, I began making daily video calls with my two friends. Gradually, we switched the camera from the front-facing one (which we usually use for online meetings) to the back camera of the iPhone, so we could share whatever we were seeing at that moment, our rooms, desks, laptop screens, movies, and our neighborhoods.
‘remote collage’ is an art book that archives the images we captured as screenshots from these calls.
At that time, many people felt as if life had stopped, but we were still very much alive, quiet, present, and living our everyday lives.
remote collage [2020]
Rina Kimura
Momoko Negishi
Ayari Nakamura