Graphic Design Shaped by Emotion to Live in the Memory

First, could you introduce yourself?

My name is Kazuya Okawa. I was born in 1981 and am currently based in Aichi, Japan. Working mainly out of Nagoya, I create meaningful creative work rooted in the values and intentions of both brands and individuals. While my practice centers on graphic design, I also pay close attention to intangible elements such as language, atmosphere, and emotional temperature. I see my role as carefully visualizing the unique character of a person or a place, including what cannot always be seen or clearly defined.

What inspired you to become a graphic designer?

When I was in high school, I was hospitalized for a long period due to a life-threatening illness. During that time, I began to seriously reconsider my future. I remember thinking that once I was discharged, I would pursue a career as a hairdresser. I collected magazines and brochures from vocational schools, trying to imagine a new path forward. One day, while flipping through a magazine, I came across a band T-shirt graphic that completely stopped me in my tracks. I was deeply moved by it. That moment made me realize that I wanted to create designs within music culture,work that could impact someone’s life in a meaningful way. That was when I decided to become a designer. From a young age, I had always been in the habit of organizing my inner thoughts not only through language, but also through sound and form. Rather than choosing this path because someone asked me to, it felt like a natural decision that I arrived at on my own. Interestingly, when I began working as a designer, a childhood friend told me, “I always felt this was what you would become.” That comment stayed with me, as if it quietly confirmed something I hadn’t fully been aware of myself.

Do you remember your very first job or project as a designer?

After graduating from vocational school, I came across a job posting on a band’s website that said they were looking for a designer. I reached out, and that led to my first opportunity to design a logo and CD jacket artwork for them. Some of the band members were the same age as me, and I even remember working part-time jobs alongside them at the time. From there, I started going to live music venues more frequently, and gradually took on more music-related projects, mainly designing flyers. Those early experiences, being closely involved with music and live culture, became the foundation of my work as a designer.

You describe your work as “visualizing personal aspirations/ thoughts” Could you tell us more about what that means to you?

For me, “visualizing personal intentions” doesn’t simply mean turning clearly articulated words or ideas into visual form. It’s about sensing and shaping the inner energy a person may not yet be able to put into words. The vague, unformed desires that still lack a clear outline. Through dialogue, including casual conversation, I try to get closer to the core of what the other person is really feeling. By exploring what a client is genuinely thinking beneath the surface, it becomes possible to uncover essential hopes they themselves may not have been fully aware of, and to arrive at ideas that never explicitly came up in conversation. This process allows me to propose ideas that go one step further than simply responding to a client’s stated requests. In some cases, after deeply considering what a client truly wanted to communicate, I’ve made proposals that involved a certain level of risk. Ultimately, that willingness to step in deeper is what led to trust. I believe the most important part of my work is identifying a client’s underlying challenges and translating them into creative form. By sharing ideas openly and building something together, I feel that the result can become creative work that doesn’t fade with time or get consumed easily. Something that continues to hold value long after it’s made.

You’ve taken many challenges and risks to get to where you are today. How do you approach judgment and decision-making in difficult situations?

Ultimately, my standard is whether I can remain sincere in the choice I make. In addition to that, I think carefully about the purpose behind the work and the kind of impact it may have on the people involved. When I commit to a project, I try to stay closely involved and work alongside the client with the intention of creating output that offers new perspectives and meaningful value. There have been situations where a client’s requested design direction was very clear, yet I felt that it did not fully express the values they truly cared about. I could have chosen to deliver exactly what was asked, but instead I decided to focus on aspects that had not yet been put into words. It was not a choice that received immediate positive feedback at the time. However, looking back later, the client told me that decision became a core foundation for their work. Through experiences like this, I have come to feel that what matters more than the outcome itself is the mindset behind the decision. How I felt and what I believed in at the moment of making that choice is what ultimately leads to more solid and lasting results over time.

What is one essential item you cannot work without?

Money, time, and health. All three form a quiet foundation that allows me to continue creating. Without them, I cannot think clearly or experiment freely. They are like essential nourishment for turning moments that move the heart into tangible form. I feel that good work is born only within a daily life that has space and room to breathe. In reality, I am not able to maintain all of these perfectly. Still, I decide in advance what must never be sacrificed. I place particular importance on the foundations of health, such as sleep and meals, as well as having time to think. When these are lost, my judgment becomes careless, and the quality of my work inevitably declines. Rather than aiming for perfect balance, I try to create a state where I can recover quickly whenever things fall out of balance.

How do you continue to learn and grow in order to develop your career and skills?

Rather than consciously trying to study new knowledge, I tend to follow the small moments of discomfort or curiosity that arise in everyday life. I visit exhibitions that catch my attention and read books from fields that have no direct connection to my work. I feel that expanding the range of my sensibility, rather than focusing only on direct skill building, ultimately leads to greater depth in my design. I also make a point of engaging in conversations with others as much as possible. By encountering different ways of thinking, my own perspective continues to be refined.

When do you feel happiest working as a designer or art director?

That feeling is always found within the act of making itself. Thinking, hesitating, working with my hands, shaping something, and then breaking it down again. That cycle feels like breathing to me. I also feel happiness in moments when I sense that a client’s feelings have truly reached someone through my design. Toward the end of a meeting, there are times when a client who has been speaking rationally suddenly softens their expression and says, “This feels right.” It is not a big reaction or praise, but from those words and the atmosphere, I can feel their sense of conviction. I see those small reactions and subtle shifts as an important step forward. Changes in attitude or atmosphere that appear before words do are moments when vague, unspoken feelings inside someone begin to take shape and move. Being present at that moment is the greatest reward of this work.

On the other hand, could you share the most difficult experience you have faced, or a time when you felt like giving up, if you are comfortable doing so?

The most difficult moments are when I feel that my words are not getting through. I believe a designer’s role is to search for a shared language, but there are times when values and emotional temperature simply do not align, and nothing I say seems to reach the other person. Even so, through many challenging experiences, I have learned not to give up, and to continue wanting to understand the other person.

What kinds of fears or inner conflicts did you experience while building your career?

I constantly felt anxiety about the distance between a client’s ideal vision and my own form of expression. There were many moments when I stopped and questioned whether the direction I had chosen was truly the right one. Even while carrying those fears and doubts, I found myself repeatedly revisiting and redefining my reason for creating. I believe that those very conflicts have shaped who I am today.

When you feel discouraged or unmotivated, what do you keep in mind to maintain your motivation?

I try not to force myself to stay positive. Instead, I allow myself to pause. Rather than quickly shifting my mood, I focus on looking closely at the sense of discomfort within me. Over time, my thoughts begin to settle, and a moment comes when I can move forward again. I believe it is important not to rush and to trust my own pace. In design, moments of true insight always begin with a feeling that quietly stirs the heart. Rather than chasing that moment, I see the time spent calmly waiting for it as an essential part of the creative process.

What does working as a designer or art director mean to you? What has changed the most since you began this career?

For me, design is not so much a profession as it is an attitude for engaging in dialogue with others. It is a way of exploring how to convey thoughts and emotions that cannot easily be put into words. When I am able to express those unspoken feelings that exist beneath a conversation, I truly feel the meaning of this work. Design has changed the way I see the world. I have become more aware of the intentions and emotions embedded in everyday life. I now find myself imagining the feelings behind the colors someone chooses or the words they use. I do not see design as a technique for making the world look neat or beautiful. Rather, it is an ongoing act of asking why something feels beautiful in the first place. By listening closely to the intentions behind forms and to even the smallest sense of discomfort, my way of seeing the world has gradually shifted.

What does Tokyo mean to you?

I exhibited my work at an international design event in Tokyo. The other exhibitors were incredibly diverse and full of talent, and the experience was deeply stimulating. It made me feel that Tokyo is a place where countless connections to the wider world are quietly waiting to be discovered. Tokyo is a place where I can test myself, and in a way feels almost like a mirror. By placing myself within its constant flow, I feel my own sensibilities being refined naturally. Surrounded by speed and a wide range of values, my own beliefs tend to surface more clearly. It is an inspiring city, and at the same time, the sense of solitude it carries also becomes a driving force for my creative work.

What would you like to achieve in the future, and how do you imagine the most distant version of yourself?

I am deeply interested in expressions based around the idea of the “shape of memory.” There are moments when fragments of photographs, words, or colors suddenly bring back the atmosphere and emotions of a past time. Through those experiences, I have come to feel that memory is not a fixed fact stored in the mind, but something that continues to exist while constantly changing its form. I want to explore how fragments of memory and emotion that quietly resurface long after an experience can be visualized through design. I am interested in shaping these into a single experience that moves across different media such as graphics, space, and sound. Through this, I hope to find ways to convey personal intentions more deeply and on a more sensory level.

Do you have a personal approach to progressing step by step towards a long-term goal?

For me, it is about carefully tending to what is right in front of me. When I focus too much on the distant future, I lose my footing, so I try to treat each daily choice and each piece of design work with care. I believe that steady accumulation eventually becomes a larger stream before you even realize it. Moving forward without rushing, and continuing quietly, is my personal guiding principle.

If you could speak to your past self, back when you were struggling with whether to pursue this career, what would you say?

I would tell myself, “Instead of searching for the right answer, make the path you choose the right one.” Real work is not something clean or ideal. Within constraints, you often have to compromise and adjust, while still trying to draw out something essential. By continuing that process, I came to realize that the ideal form is not a finished version waiting somewhere far away, but something found in how I choose to face each moment. I think a designer’s career is built not through shining moments, but through the accumulation of invisible time. By shaping reality with my own hands, rather than copying someone else, and repeating that process again and again, I eventually found that the figure of “myself” as a designer had taken form. So if I were to speak to myself back then, I would say this. The very moment you are lost between ideal and reality is when you are closest to the essence of design.