Drawing People

I have a model whom I have known for a little while. I first started with her when I painted her for an undergraduate project, and I asked her to pose for both my graduation project and my graduate project. Even after I left the university, she has been coming to Osaka regularly, and 90% of the other people I draw are still hers. (Although I sometimes sketch myfamily members and roommates.)
When I draw others, she is always by my side, and through her I have learned and thought about seeing, knowing, and drawing people. I believe that she is the one who connected me to the joy of living with people and the hope of living with people.

Drawing people is a very dangerous thing. When I paint people, she has to endure my gaze. How many people do not feel uncomfortable with having their own selves selfishly observed, analyzed, and judged? I have to force her to do that. I should never do such things to others. It is never a good thing. Some painters often use beauty as a shield, thinking they are exempt...
I should think so, but I draw her. I feel compelled to draw her, so I do. Therefore, I have to observe the minimum that I have to observe. I must collect exemptions like picking up trash.

Beautiful things always exist on top of terrible things. So I must at least know the terrible things I have done.

I always think of this when I face the screen in front of her. People observe and paint people. They try to guess and test.
Who do you think you are?
You are too conceited. It's insane.

When we paint people (and this is true of everything, not just people), we must first remember that we don't know anything. Always, never forget that. No one can really observe anything or anyone. So we have to be firm. Look, look, just look and catch what is there. That's all you have to do. That is all you must do.
Do not treat her as if she were your own.

I believe that is the manner and the ethics that we should follow when we draw and look at people.

Whenever she comes over, the two of us take a walk along the waterfall path.
Just like the mountain stream, our time together is very natural, both in its violent and gentle moments.

In the flowing water, we sink as stones.
And we wave at each other, saying, "I'm here," at each other's place.
We know that the other is there by the shape of the flowing water.
Such time strengthens our hearts.
We are apart, not one.
I know that she exists beyond my awareness, but she is certainly there.
To live with others.
The joy of it.

I also think that this is the joy of painting people, a joy that is hard to change.