Grounded in Craft, Driven by Ideas: The Unshakeable Work Style of an Illustrator

Can you tell us how you first got into the creative field?

I never drew as a kid. Not at all. Then in high school, I hit a wall with studying and thought, "I'm done with this," and randomly decided to aim for art school. A friend of mine was applying for product design, so I went with graphic design to avoid overlapping. And got in.

Once I was there, the whole standard shifted on me. It went from "the smart kids and the athletes are the ones to respect" to "can you draw?" overnight. The rules of the community had completely changed, and I panicked and started practicing like crazy.

So honestly, I'd love to say "I've been drawing since I was little," but that's just not true. It started for reasons like wanting to impress people, not wanting to study. And then I kept drawing because I needed to make a living. That's how I ended up here.

Looking at your Instagram, I got the sense that your starting point is really unique. It feels less like you love drawing itself, and more like you love building systems and generating ideas.

I really do love that part of it.

Though at this point, I've come to enjoy drawing quite a bit too. I've put in a lot of practice, so being able to take what's in my head and put it straight onto the page, like a human printer, is genuinely satisfying.

What kind of work do you mostly take on?

When I started out, print was the main thing. Now that's maybe 10 to 20 percent. Animation and web illustration are the core of what I do.

Is the illustration work you do for clients pretty different from the sketches and drawings you post on Instagram?

I draw all kinds of things. On Instagram, there's been a growing tendency over the years where client work can't really be shared, so it's shifted more toward personal work by default.

What do you see as your strengths?

Technical skill. The people who hold the final say at major clients tend to respond less to something wildly edgy and more to something that reads as solid, even if they can't quite articulate why. "I'm not sure if it's high concept, but it's clearly well made." That's what tends to land.

What first made you think of illustration as a profession?

After graduating, I joined a company as a video director and designer. I was in an amateur band at the time and loved music, so I started doing illustration on the side for music magazines.

The rates were pretty low, but I had a steady salary coming in, so it wasn't really about making a living from it. I just enjoyed it. There was something exciting about seeing my own drawings sitting on a shelf at a bookstore.

Commissions kept coming in after that, going into the office started to feel like a drag, and at some point I thought, "alright, let's just go all in on this" and became a freelance illustrator. Since then it's been one deadline after another.

It sounds less like a bold leap and more like things just unfolded naturally.

I do have a sense of what I like to draw and what I want to make as an illustrator. But I've mostly built my career around responding to what clients need, so yeah. I'd say I'm the type who goes with the flow.

I'd love to hear what has kept you going, and what has sustained you along the way.

The pay, and the support of family and friends. Those are what get me through the days.

When have you felt yourself grow as a creator?

When I look back at things I made more than ten years ago.

Sometimes a shift in perspective changes the quality of what you put out, but mostly, technical growth doesn't come all at once. That's actually one of the interesting things about this work.

Whether it's a map showing all the places you've sketched around town, or portraits that capture someone's presence without ever drawing their face, your ideas always feel like something no one else would think of. Where does that come from?

People often say my ideas are interesting, but from my end it doesn't feel like I'm forcing them.

It's more like: there's a need, so this is what it should be. I work through the logic and land somewhere, and apparently that comes across as "unique."

So it comes naturally.

Well, I do want people to have a moment of "oh, that's something." So I'm always aiming for something you haven't seen before rather than something you have.

When that clicks and something good comes out of it, that feels right.

Is there a moment in your work where you think, "this is what it's all about"?

For client work, it's about making the client happy. That's the goal.

For personal work. I'm not sure. I want people to find it funny, I think.

I recently realized I make things hoping people will go, 'wait, what?' and laugh, because I'm from Kansai. What I make tends to leave room for a reaction. Things that get more of a pained laugh than a clean one.

What I don't do is the abstract painting thing. Like, someone splatters paint on a canvas and says "isn't this cool?" and you can only really say, yeah, it's cool. There's no move to make there. That's not fun for me.

I'd rather make something that might just bomb than something that just looks cool. Working within a frame where it could completely fall flat, and figuring out how to make it land. That's the fun part.

I want to stick the landing in that risky space. That's what keeps me making things.

Your series where you turn kanji characters into illustrations, like making "dogeza" look like someone actually bowing, felt like exactly that. The kind of idea that seems obvious once you see it, but no one had done it.

A friend of mine told me it was the first time they'd thought I was a genius. But I made a bunch of them and they went completely nowhere. I think I bombed.

Many illustrators have a strong identity as expressionists, but you've called yourself a "human printer" and described yourself as someone who thinks through logic. You come across as a realist.

Illustrators have this musician-like pressure to declare what they think is cool. But I grew up in a part of Kansai where being openly cool about yourself is a bit embarrassing. So I ended up more like a session musician, a behind-the-scenes type.

That's how it feels to me anyway.

That's a great way to put it. We're really glad to have someone with your perspective featured on umu.

Being told I'm entertaining is the best thing I can hear, so thank you.

Is there something about yourself that you think is genuinely different from other illustrators?

I've never been featured in any illustration annuals, never belonged to any associations. I'm like a true stray dog. That's probably what makes me unique.

Is that intentional?

Not really. But I think someone with too many different styles becomes hard to categorize within the industry. People aren't quite sure what to do with you.

Are there many people drawing in multiple styles at a commercial level?

From what I know, there are maybe a handful in Japan who keep multiple styles going at a commercial standard.

But for you, working across styles has always felt more natural than sticking to one.

Yes. If a job calls for figure line work, being able to fine-tune the proportions and line quality to fit the medium just seems better. When you do that across enough projects, you naturally end up with a lot of styles.

I've also heard from agents that when an artist builds one strong signature style, by the time the world catches on, the artist is already bored of it. Given that I get bored easily, the way I work now suits me.

So you're building a practice you can actually enjoy.

That's it. The trade-off is I'm not the type people remember as "the illustrator with that look." My career probably doesn't have the kind of clean, glamorous arc that's easy to explain.

And yet, work like your animation for "Design Ah neo" has given you real visibility.

That's true. I can be known through specific projects. Just not through a consistent visual identity. That's the difference.

Really fascinating. Thank you. When I first found your account, I saw "drawing" in the bio and wasn't sure what to expect. And then what I found was someone with such range, in both style and approach. I was curious to understand how you actually see and process things.

I can see why it reads as "what even is this."

I think at the core, I just really want to make people smile. Doing the same thing over and over stops being interesting.

Sometimes the audience gets tired of it, sometimes I do. So staying one step ahead of boredom. That's basically what it comes down to.

What kind of art do you find interesting lately?

The captions next to artworks have been interesting to me a lot.

Most people are probably more influenced by the text than they realize — like that line from a famous manga: "You're not eating ramen, you're eating information." Same energy.

When I come across a caption that seems to be deliberately hacking that dynamic, I find it genuinely interesting.

Has there been anything in your career that felt genuinely difficult or frustrating?

Of course. The hardest thing as an illustrator is work drying up. Second hardest is unreasonable revision requests.

But society is basically unreasonable by default, and coming from a company background, I think I've built up a pretty decent tolerance for it.

Is it kind of acceptance?

Yeah, more like resigned acceptance. I've made peace with it.

Your title includes illustrator, animator, director, and lyricist. If you set aside the labels entirely, how do you see your own identity?

Simply: someone who does a lot of things.

What is Tokyo to you?

A place that keeps expanding without limit. I feel that more clearly now that I've left.

You know those role-playing games where you walk through a town, talk to people, and keep discovering things? Life as a game is a metaphor with its problems, but if we go with it. Tokyo is a city you can never complete. There are always more people to talk to.

Say you want pasta. Even if you research for hours in central Tokyo, you can never be truly sure you've found the best place.

When you're young, that infinite feeling is exciting. But as you get older it starts to wear on you. So at some point I moved to Kamakura.

Kamakura is like the edge of the map in a game — there's the ocean to the south, you can't go any further. The town is small enough that you can feel like you've landed on the best: pasta here, drinks there. That clarity feels really good to me.

The "life as a game" framing is something people say a lot, but I'd never thought about the downside of it. What's the problem with that way of thinking?

The good side is it helps you organize things. Quantify something, and it becomes easier to handle, like a game. Set a goal, hit it, score goes up. Easy to process.

But when you gamify things, you end up watching yourself from above, like you're the player controlling a character.

Then when you go to a concert by a musician you love, you're watching yourself watching the concert. You can't just be inside the music. That disconnection from raw experience.

That's the downside of gamifying your life.

If work had nothing to do with it, what would you make?

Things where the balance between what you understand and what you don't is just right. That's what I want to keep making.

Does your Instagram reflect what you genuinely love?

That's the intention. But I have a sense that the structure of social media has been pulling me toward things that can be made quickly.

So going forward, I want to put a little distance between myself and that, and spend more time on things that take longer.

Maybe because you're so attuned to what resonates with people, your posts end up being less ego-driven than they might otherwise be.

I think I need to crouch down before I can jump high.

Take a moment to reset, so what comes next can actually go somewhere.

That makes a lot of sense. What's coming up for you?

From April 17 to 26, I have a sketch exhibition called "Sen" (Line) at POMPONCAKES GARE in Kamakura. I'll be showing a large body of sketchwork that's been part of my daily life for the past ten years or so. There are also workshops planned. Please check my social media for details if you're interested.

Thank you. Last question: if you had a message for someone considering this path, or for your younger self, what would it be?

Every illustrator gets there a different way, and times change. I don't think I have much useful advice for anyone else.

But to my younger self: "You can't out-sense someone who grew up in Tokyo just by trying harder. Get the technical skills down, as fast as you can."