My Story of Illustrations, Past and Present

Ever since I was little, I loved drawing on the backs of flyers. I would draw portraits of my family and my aunts and uncles, and I was happy when they told me I was good at it.

By the time I was in kindergarten, I could draw Doraemon, Anpanman, and Mickey Mouse without even looking at them.
I admired shojo manga and would beg my grandfather to buy them for me.
I would draw in my own notebooks, and having a faint dream of becoming a manga artist was something I held onto.

But I don't have one of those common stories where I 'quit because there was someone better at school.' It's just that, even as a child, I realized early on that 'being a manga artist isn't realistic.' I didn't spend all my free time drawing, either. That was the extent of my passion.

After that, I didn't really have any dreams or specific professions I wanted to pursue.

In elementary school, I took Electone lessons for a long time and said I wanted to be an Electone teacher. I only said that because I felt like it would make my family happy.
In junior high, I was in the brass band and even became the club president. But I quit music after that.

In high school, we had to choose one subject from music, art, or calligraphy for our 'arts' class, and I chose calligraphy. For some reason, I chose it despite having no experience, even though almost everyone else was experienced. Maybe they were surprised, but everyone was incredibly kind, haha. For my final project, I had to write a favorite waka poem on a piece of colored paper. I drew cherry blossoms myself and wrote the poem over them, and I got a perfect score. I'm a little proud that my grade was higher than those who had experience.

Naturally, my career path after that wasn't related to art either. I went to a completely different university and got a job.

My job was in customer service.
After a few years, I started creating POP displays and handwritten flyers on my own initiative. It was fun. More than anything, the visible results were incredible. The products I made POP displays for definitely sold better.
The flyers I made were shared across all stores, and I was even awarded for them. I won first place and received prize money.
A manufacturer of one of the products told me, 'This isn't something just anyone can do. It's a talent.' But I thought, 'Well... they're just saying that because their own product is selling.'

I didn't get any extra pay for it. I just thought it was my role, something others couldn't do.

Eventually, I lost that flexibility and worked too hard.
In the end, I developed depression and had to quit.


Spending time at home, unable to work.

I suddenly thought, maybe I'll try drawing. I had too much time, I was sick of everything, and after feeling like I didn't want to live anymore, the thing I chose at that moment was drawing.

I felt like I wanted to share my work in a world where no one knew me, so I started Instagram.

I had never drawn digitally before. I drew on paper, took a photo with my smartphone, loaded it into an app, traced it, and colored it in.
I didn't know anything about layers or anything else. Everything was a new term to me. I looked them up one by one as I drew. My first post took four hours.

I wanted to illustrate my experience with depression and share it. Every day, I would draw, take a photo, trace it, and color it. I would lose track of time and keep drawing. Wanting to be someone other than who I was at the time, I gave the character a mask and named her Ringo (Apple).

I share my posts while letting Ringo speak for me. People empathize and appreciate it. I was happy that my message was getting across. It might sound dramatic, but I seriously thought that maybe it was okay for me to be alive.

Even now, I'm not good at talking or communicating. But I can still convey things through my illustrations, through Ringo.

People tell me my illustrations are cute and that they like them. But there are so many people in this world who are good at drawing, so I think, 'Who am I to be doing this?' There are tons of people who have been drawing since they were little. I'm not at that level. We're on different playing fields. We're at different levels. I feel like apologizing.

Even so.

Even so.

Even so.

I recently realized that I just 'liked it.' It doesn't matter when I started drawing. There are people who start drawing today. There's no top or bottom. It just so happens that the talented people I admire all say they 'kept drawing.'

Someone asked me to draw something for them for the first time. I received money and drew for someone else for the first time.

I realized that the books on illustration, color, and drawing techniques that I couldn't help but collect were kept for this very day. The feeling of pieces falling into place—thinking this color would match, or that they might like this face—was intoxicating.

I want to get closer to what the person who requested it wants, I want to meet their expectations, I don't want to disappoint them, I want to deliver something good, I want them to be happy, and I wonder how many proposals I can offer. I think and think in my head, move my hands, and then while in the bath, I get an idea and jump up thinking, 'This is it!'
Ah, it's so much fun.

It felt like a dream.

It was like a small lump of a dream inside my body was swelling up and bursting.

I'm sure I won't forget this.

I want to keep drawing in the future. I want to draw for the rest of my life. I want to get better.
If you wish, I would like to draw for you, too. And above all, I want to keep drawing the things I love forever.

If I could spend my days like that. This might be the first time I've ever spoken of my dream.