Hospital room

I have been in a mental hospital three times. The third was last summer. Mental disorder has been by my side for a long time, but last year's crisis made my life more difficult.

The crisis is my belongings. Even so, to live is too hard. Crisis deprived so many things. To relax at home, to go to school, to cook meals, to sleep, to wake up, to take a bath. And to create, to write poetry.

One of the things I could do with what was left was to read books. I wanted to somehow preserve my form, so I tried to touch books in order to live. Among them was the following haiku.

退院がのびた日の昼月が窓をのぞく
The midday moon peeks through the window on the day of delayed discharge.

His name is Kenshin Sumitaku. He left many haiku while he was hospitalized with leukemia. Reading his collection of haiku, "Unfinished" seemed to bring back memories of my hospital stay last year. I was instantly inspired and felt absolutely necessary to create this work when I touched this haiku. Perhaps the work was already asleep in my body. I discovered that haiku served as a catalyst to draw together fragments of my scattered pieces from various corners of my body and make them manifest in consciousness.

I was placed in a closed ward for the first time during my third hospitalization. In a closed ward, you cannot leave the ward at all until you receive permission. I spent a lot of time in the patient's room and the ward. During such closed-off times, I felt as if I were far removed from society. However, this was something I felt anew due to being in the hospital. In reality, whether it was the challenge me before admission or the challenge me from post-discharge up to the present, I can't help but think that I've been an isolated or secluded presence from society, just like I was during my hospitalization.

Interestingly, the windows of mental hospitals are not meant to be opened. You can open them just enough for a finger, but it was a stark reminder that we were firmly aware of being isolated and confined. However, it excelled at offering a view, and since the hospital was by the sea, I could enjoy the beautiful ocean every day.

I don't really understand how to open a window, but I think the fragmented windows of NFTs, when opened through the act of purchase, being glimpsed by someone, might make me feel less lonely. The fragment of myself in the NFT is not a hidden entity, nor is it an isolated one. I pray that I can become such an existence.

This NFT is only a part of the work. Later I will report on the "Hospital room" as fx(text). I will write about what I tried to do, what I tried to put into the parameters of the work, my life and disabilities that are inseparable from the work, and the situation I am in in Japanese society. I will post the report on X @shirasu_nejio. I hope you will read it as well. Also, I was taking documentary videos during the production. I would have liked to release it with the release of the film, but it was technically difficult, and I would like to release this video as a self-documentary later, though it is still undecided.
You can also use the hashtag #nejipro on X to easily see the process of NFT production. If you have any questions, please contact X @shirasu_nejio.