Fluctuation – 1st Phase

Aesthetic judgment is often treated as subjective or cultural, which places excessive weight on the selection of the subject itself. If beauty arises not from intention but from deviations within the observer, then aesthetics becomes something to be observed rather than designed. Under this assumption, changing the vantage point should allow beauty to be intentionally amplified without relying on traditionally “beautiful” subjects.

In this phase, I focused on the role of familiarity and unfamiliarity in aesthetic response. Humans quickly adapt to the environments in which they live; familiarity suppresses perceptual sensitivity, whereas unfamiliarity can trigger an enhanced sense of beauty. This suggests that beauty is not an inherent property but a perceptual event arising when cognitive expectations are disrupted.

To induce this disruption, I attempted to convert the “familiar” into the “unfamiliar” by shifting to a viewpoint grounded in physical processes instead of shared cultural meaning. This produced new perceptual outcomes in both artificial and natural structures, effectively breaking my own internal habituation.

However, a methodological limitation emerged: the subjects I chose were already recognized as beautiful within conventional aesthetics. To evaluate the hypothesis properly, the next phase required subjects whose cultural value was not yet stabilized.

At the same time, an important byproduct emerged. The forms that appeared beautiful under this shifted perspective consistently corresponded to entropy differences—local deviations in material stability. To test the reliability of this connection, I determined that future phases must not compare “my perception vs. human norms,” but rather my current perception vs. my previous work, allowing my own bias patterns to act as a controlled variable. Additionally, third-party responses would be treated not as validation but as observational data points, useful for detecting patterns beyond my personal perceptual tendencies.

Fluctuation – 2nd Phase

To test the hypothesis that beauty corresponds to entropy differences—and to evaluate changes relative to my previous work—I selected shiitake mushrooms as subjects. They belong to a domain where aesthetic value is normally assigned through taste or utility, not visual beauty.

No special photographic technique was used; I simply followed the areas where entropy differences appeared most pronounced, particularly the characteristic surface undulations.

My only deliberate intervention was the cultivation of mushrooms to the highest possible quality, anticipating that stronger structural consistency would make local deviations more detectable.

The results aligned with the hypothesis. Many viewers reported a sense of “confused admiration,” indicating that beauty was perceived despite the absence of conventional aesthetic expectations. These responses were recorded as observational data, not as approval. Their consistency allowed me to distinguish between my own bias patterns and the deviations recognized by others.

However, a new complication emerged: the mushrooms themselves began acquiring a cultural association with beauty. Positive attributes—such as “delicious” or “fresh”—appeared to influence aesthetic perception, creating a feedback loop.

For subsequent phases, I will need subjects that remain culturally neutral and will evaluate beauty strictly through:

Comparisons with my earlier phases, and

Third-party reactions treated as data rather than judgment.

These steps will help isolate whether entropy differences consistently generate aesthetic responses independent of subject type.

Fluctuation – 3rd Phase

To examine the hypothesis that “beauty is an expression of entropy difference and changes according to one’s vantage point,” I selected a sawmill as the site for the third phase of this research, using comparisons with my earlier works as a reference point.

In the previous phase, the subject—shiitake mushrooms—already possessed clear cultural and practical value. In contrast, the unused materials found in a sawmill have no fixed role or meaning; their value has not yet been defined within conventional systems of use. This state of undetermined value allows their forms to be observed without the constraints of existing expectations.

However, the subjects of this phase are not limited to unused materials alone. Restricting the work to a single category would impose an overly narrow frame on the theme, while giving complete freedom would dilute methodological focus. For this reason, I established a flexible yet clear boundary: the sawmill site as a whole. Any form that exists within this environment becomes a potential subject.

During observation, I intentionally step back from cultural value frameworks and focus instead on forms as outcomes of simple physical processes. Particular attention is given to areas where irregularities, contours, or small shifts appear—places where entropy difference becomes visible.

The camera operation and approach evolve continuously through comparisons with my past works, enabling ongoing examination of how shifts in viewpoint affect the resulting images. Responses from viewers are treated not as judgments but as observational data, providing clues to entropy differences or perceptual deviations that I may not notice on my own.

No special techniques were required for the photography. Following basic, conventional camera operation was more than sufficient.

Because the subjects in this project are things that people typically overlook, guiding the viewer’s attention and maintaining compositional precision played an important role. However, attempts to emphasize these elements by adding unnecessary stylistic moves proved counterproductive.

When such stylistic choices become too visible, the viewer begins to search for meanings that were never embedded in the image. For this project—where the goal is to observe the state of unassigned meaning itself—this becomes a significant source of noise.

In the end, the most effective approach was to keep the photographic method to the minimum necessary, leaving enough space for the forms to present themselves as they are.

Managing my emotional response as the photographer became one of the most challenging aspects of this phase. Although I needed to observe the world as a set of forms produced by physical laws, I inevitably reacted whenever I encountered a new subject. Such reactions can influence the precision of observation, making it necessary to handle them carefully.

To address this, I introduced what I call the “Emotional Saturation Process.” This is not a method for eliminating emotion, but for equalizing it to a stable threshold so that it no longer interferes with the observational viewpoint.

In the 1st Phase, I allowed the impulse to run its course and saturated the initial peak by taking a large number of photographs. In the 2nd Phase, photographing daily for about five years gradually absorbed emotional reactions into routine, allowing my observational baseline to stabilize naturally.

I will continue applying this process in the 3rd Phase. My criterion for determining when the emotion has “settled” is personal: it is the point at which photography has become an ordinary, everyday activity, and emotional reactions no longer disrupt observation.

This method relies on my individual characteristics and is not intended to be generalized. Nonetheless, as a means of stabilizing myself as an observer, it has proven effective, and I expect it to function similarly in this phase.

Through a long journey, I arrived at a single realization: the world, and the people within it, were far simpler than I had imagined.

Even values, emotions, and social issues—things that appear endlessly complex— are, in many cases, nothing more than extensions of the mechanisms that once ensured survival. Diversity and conflict are neither good nor bad; they are natural behaviors that allow the whole system to endure. And even these are unconscious, expressionless phenomena.

From this perspective, “beauty” and “meaning” are not special things, but patterns that momentarily surface within the flow of natural laws.

These patterns are remarkably simple, and their simplicity can sometimes feel cruel.

Yet within that very simplicity, there seems to be a kind of freedom we have long overlooked.