Part 4: The Gravity of Books

I love bookstores. Each book holds its own world, and the thought of discovering a new one fills me with excitement. The scent of paper has a curious way of calming my mind, and the gentle distance maintained by the staff is surprisingly comforting.

I often visit bookstores not to find something specific, but to wander in during breaks between work or on walks. It reminds me of when I first encountered the picture book "Lulu the Eccentric." I was browsing the children's book section during a lull in a photoshoot when a red spine on the shelf caught my eye. It said the author was Yves Saint Laurent. "Yves Saint Laurent? The designer??" Intrigued, I picked it up.

As I turned the pages, I was immediately drawn into its world. The interplay of white, black, and red, the charming illustrations, and the handwritten text felt incredibly chic. Lulu, the protagonist, despite her cute appearance, adores doing "naughty" things. Her unconventional actions and words are laced with a delightful mix of mischief and exquisite humor, making her utterly captivating. This was Yves Saint Laurent's first and only picture book. He created it at the age of 20, when he was still working at Christian Dior. When I started reading, I couldn't connect the King of Fashion with Lulu. But as I read on, I realized the book was filled with a free spirit unbound by convention, and a sense of fun and playfulness. It felt like a message from him about the importance of these qualities in creative work.



Photoshoots, fashion shows, and the creative process are enjoyable. I always strive to convey and express something beyond mere information through my photographs and on the runway. However, there are times when I feel stuck, lost, or unsure of what I want to express. It's like wandering through a maze with no end in sight. In those moments, I think of Lulu. It's like a small incantation. It helps me realize, "Ah, perhaps I was too caught up in the 'ideal model' image I had constructed," or it encourages me to "Be freer, listen more to my heart." My rigid mindset loosens, softens, and naturally, what I need to do and what I want to express begins to emerge again.

Since encountering "Lulu the Eccentric," I've come to see getting lost as a positive thing. I've learned that new discoveries can arise from uncertainty. I'm grateful to the bookstore that introduced me to Lulu. Yes, I think I'll stop by a bookstore on my way home today. Perhaps I'll meet another child like Lulu. After all, encounters with books are like gravity.