Min Tanaka

I was born in Hachioji, which is in the suburbs of Tokyo. I grew up there, cherishing nature since my childhood. I was often picked on and ill-treated by other children. I always hid myself in nature, burying my face in the grass, simply keeping myself away from others. I felt close to the texture of the micro-existence of plants. Ever since then, I have imagined the bigger world from my little spot in the grass. But, as I grew up, perhaps from my high school years, this sensitivity towards nature grew less.

My farming practice has probably been a tool to connect my senses again to my boyhood experiences.
Today, Hakushu, where I set up my Body Weather Farm in 1985, looks much like the countryside that surrounded me in my adolescence. And many youngsters have come to dance together with me. In my experience of working in farming, there are moments when I felt it would be nice to go beyond the boundary – go into the other world – as I get closer, more involved in nature. It is the boundary that separates life from death. I go beyond this boundary with the utmost effort. Recently, that sensuous feeling has become stronger. I really like to be in Hakushu. We can achieve states like ...