To me, "ambiguity" is a positive state.
For example, imagine some "white" things: bones, paper, clouds, skin and so on.
They are all white, but naturally you can't express them all with just white paint.
The "white" that we think of is mixed with other colors.
But to what extent are they "white" and to what extent are they "not white"?
Is the white of a lily flower and the white of a toilet different?
On the other hand, is it necessary to define this?
By examining this question, my way of thinking deepens,
and I feel I am closer to the real essence of what "white" means.

In order to represent this question, I use the techniques of printmaking and resin casting.
These techniques have a paradox in that you can make something original or "individual" but, at the same time, make reproductions. In other words, they are "ambiguous".
I draw attention to this fascinating sense of "ambiguity", and, at the same time, present two different states of an object.
For example, by using transparent resin and making an exact copy of a leaf, something that was completely unique and natural is changed into transparent plastic. Also, by experimenting with the process of printmaking, reproducible photographs are changed and look like a sand storm. My art-making is about this positive "ambiguity", indeed it is an encounter between the white lily in the Annunciation and the white toilet of Duchamp's Fountain.

Nobuaki Onishi