Series: Hirotaka Tsuboi | Part 1: "Viewpoint"
Design
March 20, 2015

Series: Hirotaka Tsuboi | Part 1: "Viewpoint"


Part 1: "Perspective"


Perspective is like one's attitude or stance toward things, or a camera's angle of view.



By Hirotaka Tsuboi




The Sensation of Driving Your Own Body



The two images presented here differ entirely in scale and material, yet within the same frame of view, their representations feel remarkably similar, as if they share a common structure.

It seems obvious, but we perceive the world by recognizing the outline from head to toe as our own single unit of measurement.

Perhaps this is because consciousness arises with the sensation of driving our own bodies, but if we step outside this perspective and question that angle of view, we can become inhabitants of entirely different worlds depending on how we frame (perceive) everything from individual cells, invisible to the naked eye, to vast universes, or even intangible realms like those in 'Avatar' or 'The Matrix'.



From the Consciousness of "Self" to Awareness



One day in 2004, while practicing Buddhism, I had this thought.
If we assume each leaf on a tree is an individual, we can see the tree as a living organism.
The tree's life is sustained by its many leaves performing photosynthesis and creating nutrients.
Some leaves produce abundant nutrients, while others are small, grow slowly, have short lifespans, are eaten by insects, or are blown away by strong winds.

If all the leaves were to stop functioning, the tree would easily wither, but even the fallen leaves become nutrients for the next generation, and the life of the "tree" is maintained through the continuous cycle of the whole.

If a single leaf were its own life, falling would be "death," but here, the subject of life is not a single leaf, but rather the ecosystem itself, which can be vaguely imagined.

If there's a difference between us humans and the tree, it might be the presence of the consciousness of "self." The tree simply exists, cycles, and continues to grow, marking its rings.
If each cell in our body had consciousness, perhaps hair follicles might feel the same anxiety and fear about falling out that we associate with death.

In the reality of this world, perhaps there isn't much difference between a single leaf and a human... Thinking this way, my own death no longer felt like the absolute end, and the outline of "myself" that I had clung to became slightly blurred.
The realization that nature and this world are not external objects to be manipulated, but are themselves the active agents, and that I am dissolved within that activity, was a profound awakening, akin to enlightenment, for me at the time.

When I begin a design project, I start by trying to remove this frame.
By immersing myself in various perspectives—such as size, subject, and consciousness—and thinking in a flat manner, I hope to embody the essence and principles of things in my designs.