I wish this was my day

I woke up, drawn by the brightness of the morning sun shining through the gap in the curtains.

Alexa, what time is it?

It is currently 6:30 AM.

I didn't sleep very well last night. There are always two reasons why I end up sleep-deprived: when I dread the coming day, or when I'm so excited for it that I can't wait. This time, it was the latter. I quickly got ready and headed to the kitchen, where the rice cooker had finished cooking the rice right on time. I filled the electric kettle with water, plugged it in, and turned it on. Then, I took natto and an egg from the fridge, and a salmon fillet from the freezer, putting the salmon in the microwave for 3 minutes at 600W. While that was heating, I cracked the egg into a small bowl, stirred the egg and natto separately, scooped the freshly cooked rice into a bowl, and topped it with the egg and then the natto. I follow this order because I don't like it when the stickiness of the natto dissolves into the egg. Noticing steam rising from the electric kettle, I put instant miso soup into a bowl and poured the hot water over it. Hearing the microwave beep, I took out the thawed salmon. And just like that, a protein-packed breakfast was ready. I said 'itadakimasu' in my heart and began to eat my meal slowly. Delicious. I find the most comfort in the Japanese food I'm used to. Although the salmon catch has been decreasing in recent years, I still want to eat it. Will salmon eventually become unavailable, like herring? If so, it's probably a good idea to eat it while I still can.

I finished breakfast and left the house. I used to ride my bike to the station, but now I walk. That way, I can notice the seasonal changes even on the path I always take. The people in this house take such good care of their garden. What beautiful flowers. I wonder what they're called. I slowly took my camera out of my bag, looked through the viewfinder, and pressed the shutter.

When I arrived at the station, I headed to the venue for my destination. My work was on display at this venue. It doesn't matter what the work is—a photo, a smartphone app, a novel, an essay, music, or AI. I love media, but I believe its essence lies in being able to connect with users through the work. That's why I'm happy when that is achieved. For example, someone sees a photo of a fish I took and goes to the sea. They read my essay about Izu and actually visit the shops mentioned in it. By interacting with a generative AI product, the user tries making something themselves. At an exhibition, there is a tactile sense because of the offline interaction with users. Even if I don't have the ability to create practical products, if I can connect someone to something, even a little, then it was worth doing.

I tried talking to someone who was staring intently at my work while they were filling out a survey.

How was that piece?

When I hear their impressions, even if they're just being polite, I feel glad I exhibited it. After going through the lonely process of creation, I can connect with someone. I can affirm the days I spent continuing to output work, not for a company, but to validate myself. Even if AI takes my job in the future, the joy and empathy born from interaction with people will never be taken away.

I headed home and returned to my house. The Marie Rose flowers I was growing at the entrance were in bloom. I could hear children playing in the neighborhood. That day, I went jogging to work up an appetite and went to Gyoza no Ohsho for dinner, because gyoza is my favorite food. Since the next day was Monday, I stayed up until midnight to read One Piece.

—
I've never exhibited my work at an exhibition, but I've always had a desire to express something.

#I wish this was my day