Inflections
Douglas Diaz – Solo Exhibition
2025.05.16 ー 06.15
OPENING RECEPTION
5.16 FRI 14:00
ARTIST TALK
5.16 FRI 15:00
OPENING HOURS
SAT & Sun 14:00 – 17:00
MON to FRI opens upon reservation at info@tomaunrestored.com
Free entrance
TOMA HOUSE
1325-1 Takabatake-Cho, Nara City
Inflections explores the tension between everything and nothingness, presence and absence, self and other. Through materiality, and interaction, the works invite viewers into a space where time is made tangible—layered, fragmented, and inescapable. Each piece becomes an inflection point: between weight and balance, between the seen and the hidden.
At the heart of this exhibition is a practice of compassionate witnessing—an ethical attention that does not scream, but does not turn away. In a world shaped by conflict, inequality, and accelerating loss, these works offer a quiet insistence on presence. To witness is not to look from afar, but to stand in relation.
Here, the viewer is not just an observer but an active participant—negotiating equilibrium, revealing traces, and becoming aware of their own presence in the unfolding moment. The works hold space for grief and gratitude, for what is crushed and what remains, for stillness and interdependence. I do not attempt to offer resolutions. Instead, ask: How do we meet this moment—with care, with courage, with attention?
Douglas Diaz
Douglas Diaz (b. 1972) is a Brooklyn, New York born artist. His work explores questions of his own humanity, challenging preconceptions and thoughts, embracing fears and the darkness that lies deep within the unconscious in an attempt to gain spiritual equanimity.
His work has been exhibited in solo and group shows since 2015 across Australia, Indonesia, Japan, Singapore, Thailand and the United States. In 2017, Douglas had his first solo museum exhibition titled SHUKKE at Art 1 Museum, Indonesia. His work is collected privately and publicly in more than 20 different countries.
He currently has studios in Bangkok and Higashiyoshino and lives in Nara, Japan.
Artworks
ALL of my Emotions (Sept 2023—Apr 2025)
2025
44 x 1.5 meters
Mixed media on canvas
I am pensive, contemplating my life over the past 20 months. So much has unfolded—the subtle, the extraordinary, and the mundane—all woven into this brief span of time. I’ve learned to regard time with perspective: it is fleeting in the grand scheme of things. Instead, I choose to measure life through emotion—through growth, evolution, and the texture of lived experience.
145 distinct emotions over 592 days. I see patterns emerge as my vocabulary expanded to articulate what once felt inexpressible. I’ve analyzed, tested, and explored a wide spectrum of moods. I’ve drawn conclusions, only to have them dismantled by forces both within and beyond my control—like anyone else. Yet, in the rise and fall of these emotional tides, I’ve found a quiet comfort in my capacity to accept myself in any state. No storm, nor solace, lasts forever—but my ability to return to the shores of my own being remains certain.
I have become my own refuge through the understanding that nothing lasts—least of all, time and life.
400 layers of Gratitude
2025
184 x 66 x 51 mm
Washi paper, acrylic and glue
I am gluing each layer, one by one. The motion is delicate, repetitive—and above all, necessary. With every gesture, my concentration deepens, recalling both the kindnesses I’ve received and the ways I’ve offered help to others. Every piece of paper becomes an act, an individual, a gesture of appreciation and concern. I do this in hopes of bringing into focus a conscious awareness that I am here by virtue of the kindness of many.
I bundle these individual layers into acts that coalesce into moments of awareness and gratitude. Moments from my childhood, encounters with people I barely knew—who barely knew me—yet still extended a caring hand. In this way, I trace the arc of my life, expanding my awareness to include all the thank-yous I never said, the ones I did, and the moments I didn’t even know gratitude was needed.
The more layers I glue, the deeper my consciousness sinks into the vastness of gratitude. Eventually, I arrive not at a clear realization, but at a quiet, unconscious knowing: that we are bound not by a precise understanding of how we came to be here, but by countless acts of kindness exchanged along the way.
126
2023
200 x 140 cm (79 x 55 inches)
Plastic and canvas
I keep thinking of the bodies being burnt and killed and mutilated under the rubble. How they are wrapped in white cloths for burial. How they pull back the fabric to reveal their faces and fate.
Body bags.
Bodies suffocated once again, under fabric, under plastic. Scars, wounds, burnt marks obscured but visible. Visible for the world to see but can’t touch nor smell.
“reaching to recover them to cover
them no one had seen her
living hair & he used to swim
dressed in this sea let us cover
them from the flies if we not
allowed bury them whole”
Will their eyes open and see our complicity? Our inept attempts to remain human? I place all the remaining fragments into a bag and tuck it in with the rest of the work.
“bury them whole…”
The slow burn, the smell, lingers as I go to sleep.
—
Excerpts from a poem by Suheir Hammad
Sit
2025
1800 x 400 x 450 mm
Wood and acrylic paint
I am sitting. Paused. Trying to disconnect from the world, to find solace, but it is useless. The sway of the bench beckons me to move. I adjust myself in search for balance. My search requires inner focus but also awareness of the world under my seat.
Slowly I come into stillness. It is effortless if I don’t move. I am enough to find inner balance. My mind settles into equilibrium. Someone arrives and balance leaves. The process must start again.
Communication, adjustment. Adjustment more communication. This dance repeats itself, with every micro movement getting closer and closer to a state of balanced existence. Eventually I realize that my inner equilibrium is necessary for the greater equanimity between the bench, the other and myself.
TOMA HOUSE
1325-1 Takabatake-Cho, Nara City