ないものはつくりたい

If it doesn't exist, create it.


Today, rather than talking about mizuebag, I'm writing about the roots of my craftsmanship ☺︎


When I was a child, we didn't have a TV at home.

It wasn't so much that my parents had a specific educational policy against it; rather, the TV we'd had for a long time broke one day, and we simply never bought a new one, getting used to life without a TV.

At the time, I was an elementary school student, and in the golden age of television, I definitely couldn't keep up with my friends' conversations (haha).

I personally didn't dislike that environment (I think I was a child who didn't really mind not being able to follow conversations or know what was popular).

But I must have really longed for a house with a TV.

One day, I drew a flip-book animation, stuck it on cardboard, and made a TV.

I placed it where a TV would normally be in my room, looked at it, flipped through it, and was satisfied.

It wasn't that I particularly wanted to watch TV (this is important).

I wanted the presence of a TV. That's why my super-analog TV, which I made myself, was just fine.


I was the kind of child who would present a case to get what I really wanted, so if I had really wanted a TV at that time, I probably could have gotten one.

My parents weren't the type to say, "We absolutely won't buy a TV!!!"

I think even then, I knew how to satisfy myself (Good job, me!).


Similarly, at that time, I slept in a Japanese-style room with my family, lined up like the kanji "kawa" (川).

One day, I longed for a bed. I wanted to sleep alone in a bed!

I talked to my father about building a bed. Since my father was a liberal arts type and not skilled in woodworking, we decided to make a bed out of cardboard.

We collected cardboard from various supermarkets.

We even made the spring part by rolling up and standing cardboard pieces.

I placed the finished cardboard bed in the hallway and created my own room.

There, I placed a light on the cardboard bedside table and read manga in the dark.

I remember feeling incredibly happy to have my own space.

Writing all this, I realize it might be misunderstood, so let me just say:

My family wasn't poor, nor were my parents strict and never bought me anything (laughs).

Both my parents worked, and we had a reasonably comfortable life.

I think I was just a child who didn't particularly ask for things and loved to create.


I used that finished cardboard bed for about two years, sleeping in it every night.

(I wish I had pictures of what I made, what a shame.)

 

Even in adolescence, I made many things I longed for and wanted at the time, such as studded Converse shoes (AYAMO-chan wore them in Zipper back then), tote bags, and brooches.

For the studded Converse, since I couldn't find them in my rural hometown, I bought studs from a craft store and poked them into my Converse.

The prongs stuck out on the inside, so depending on the thickness of my socks, they would cause slight abrasions... (Cute shoes are painful).


The childhood realization that "if you want something, you can make it" is something I still cherish 20 years later.

Mizuebag was born from that realization.

 

And there's another way I satisfy myself.

Although I don't draw much anymore, from childhood until the beginning of university, I used to draw a lot of manga and pictures.

I loved drawing stylish women.

In my early 20s, Instagram became popular, and I could easily find fashion, goods, and cute things, which led to a sudden increase in things I wanted.

I want to wear this cute skirt from my favorite brand (very expensive) with this top I already own~!!!

These shoes with these pants would be absolutely adorable... My materialistic desires surged.

I couldn't possibly make everything (there was too much), but I drew all of them.

At first, I drew them to remember the coordinates I wanted to try when I eventually got the items, but strangely, drawing them calmed my feelings.

It felt like everything I wanted was inside that notebook.


One day, when I told this story to an illustrator friend, she said, "I totally get it, it's the same for me!"

In her case, she said that drawing places she wanted to visit (but were too far and expensive to go to) made her feel like she had actually been there. That's wonderful too! ☆


"Aren't we incredibly happy when we can fulfill our own desires and satisfy ourselves?"

My friend (Sawano) and I held an exhibition called "Own Spells" in 2024, based on this theme.

It was a truly wonderful exhibition for us, the first for mizuebag, conveying the message that even for things that are physically unobtainable (or not the real thing), we know our own ways of acquiring them (our own ways of casting spells on ourselves)!

 

 

 

I've lived my life without paying much attention to this feeling or way of thinking, but this exhibition made me realize anew how fortunate and rich I am to have this sensibility.

Thank you very much, Ms.Mizuchi from Detour, for giving me this opportunity.

 

Even if the quality is low, I believe that the sense of satisfaction from creating (or drawing) and obtaining something is different from the satisfaction of purchasing it.

 

I think the root of this craftsmanship comes from the environment in my childhood where things I wanted weren't immediately available.

It's a feeling and a way of thinking that hasn't changed and that I want to continue to cherish.

 

While it's a different kind of happiness, the happiness of buying things with money is also undeniably wonderful, so I'll write about that another time. ☆彡



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