Toetiee

For over 15 years, Kyoko Takeshita lived a life in constant motion. But everything changed when she was diagnosed with Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness, a chronic dysfunction of the vestibular system and brain. Suddenly, the bustling cities that once fuelled her creativity became overwhelming and Kyoko found herself returning to the mountains and forests of her hometown of Nanto-shi, Japan.

The transition was not easy. Leaving behind her fast-paced lifestyle, she turned to nature, where the slower rhythms provided a new source of inspiration. “The mountain scenery reminds me that I’m just a small part of this vast universe, a creature wandering the earth,” she says. This return to nature, paired with the challenges of her health, has profoundly shaped her art, which explores themes of freedom, patience and appreciation for the everyday.

Wood is central to Kyoko’s practice, both as a medium and a muse. “Lately, I’ve been focusing on understanding my materials and experimenting with them,” she explains. Wooden panels and blocks serve as canvases for her vibrant paintings, while wood carving brings Kyoko’s ideas into three-dimensional form. The tactile nature of woodworking—carving, painting and shaping—mirrors her journey toward healing, providing both a literal and metaphorical grounding: “I strongly believe that things take time and you need patience and practice. I love the natural feel of wood and the perfectly imperfect quality of it reflects something very real to me.”

Multiple Forms

“I always start with a title—a conceptual line that describes the theme,” she says of her creative process. From this initial spark, sketches are made and materials are chosen to best express the idea. This thoughtful, deliberate process is reminiscent of her previous work in advertising, where every campaign starts with a clear concept and unfolds across multiple mediums. “I see it as creating an ad campaign for the theme,” Kyoko explains.

Though her work spans multiple forms, a recurring theme of freedom—both physical and mental—runs through everything she creates. “I don’t consciously try to express it,” Kyoko notes, “but I’m always drawn to motifs that evoke a sense of liberation, often with a touch of humour or sarcasm.”  Using a combination of painting, sculpture and Risograph printing, the latter because of its raw, slightly unpredictable output, each medium offers a different way of interacting with the viewer. Her use of colour is also playful and symbolic and she selects hues that feel close enough to reality but convey a deeper sense of meaning. “I don’t necessarily use realistic colours for my motifs, but I choose something close that translates well to the subject,” she says. Her intentional use of white space offers the viewer the freedom to project their own interpretations. “For me, white can be any colour the viewer imagines, like a blank canvas.”