This year, I removed exhibitions from my schedule and focused on rebuilding my website.
At first, everything was aimed at the Japanese version.
I considered taking more commissions, adding a pet-portrait page I did not want, and repeating the blog strategy that worked for my art school.
At the end of 2024, that looked like the “right” path.
AI Shifted the Direction
While I was working, AI evolved absurdly fast.
Once it started speaking casually, the friction vanished, and my thoughts flowed straight into it.
Then the question hit me.
Is it even worth fixing the Japanese site?
Japanese collectors rarely buy paintings, and if AI can translate nuance, maybe I should aim overseas from the start.
That was the turning point.
Germany First, Then the U.S.
When I asked AI which country to target, it first said Germany.
The heaviness of my work fit the context, and I do like Kiefer.
But as the conversation deepened, the answer flipped.
It said the U.S. made more sense because my life’s uneven narrative was structurally American.
I was annoyed by the reversal, but the reasoning held.
Naming “Super Dekoboko”
At the end of May, I coined the term “Super Dekoboko.”
A playful theft from Murakami, part homage and part mischief.
It worked because everything was uneven—the surface of the work, the trajectory of my life, and even the styles I used.
A painter friend laughed when I told him the name, and that laugh sealed it.
When the Three Uneven Layers Aligned
As I built the English site, the target naturally became the Poetic Rebels of Los Angeles—critical yet sincere people who navigate contradictions without flinching.
AI changed its mind halfway through, and I rebuilt half the site.
Even that chaos became part of the conceptual sediment.
In the end, three layers aligned.
Uneven work, uneven life, and an uneven era driven by technology.
When those clicked together, the direction felt inevitable.
These past months were exhausting.
But exhaustion sharpens what actually matters.