Back story: The making of "The Cat Who Wants to Be a Tiger."

Giving up on giving up. It's been over a decade since I started working as an illustrator. My life is still far from stable, feeling like I'm walking a tightrope stretched between buildings. One day, I suddenly came to my senses, looked down, and was struck by a sense of unease, as if I had climbed too high to turn back. In such a life, the words "I want to give up" often come to mind and then fade away. "I'm still in my twenties, maybe I can still turn back." "Hey, I'm already in my thirties! What am I going to do, I won't be able to turn back!?" Such internal conflicts play out in my head every day. One day, something happened that seemed to gently admonish this inner turmoil. Eikichi Yazawa was speaking on a radio show. "If you get caught up in the norms set by society or yourself, and half-heartedly give up on what you want to do, it will remain as a lingering regret. That regret will stay with you, and in the end, you'll end up pursuing it again. So, I think it's better to give your all to what you want to do from the start." My memory might be a bit fuzzy and my interpretation might be involved, but that was the gist of it. People often weigh what they want to do against their age or societal norms and give up. I myself waver when I consider external validation like income or status appropriate for my age. Thinking about a rational life plan based on such evaluations might be a wise decision for navigating this harsh world. In fact, these factors directly contribute to an easier life. But, to what extent can humans become rational and still find happiness? We live our lives, shaving off every possible "waste," as if we were robots destined to live forever, even though the inevitable, irrational fate of "death" awaits us all. This includes our passions and dreams. Perhaps Yazawa-san's words resonated with me because I instinctively felt that the "irrational pursuits" – the ones where humans chase after impossible ideals – are what make us human, and that this very irrationality is what makes us endearing, unlike robots. While pondering this, I found myself engrossed in a video game one day. The game, set in the Wild West, featured a cast of unique characters. Among them, one character particularly caught my interest. He was part of a traveling circus. During their travels, their mascot tiger escaped, and he asked for my help. I chased after it and caught it, only to discover it was a cat disguised as a tiger...! They had painted a cat to make it look like a tiger. I was captivated by this sight. There was no shame or pride, just a gritty determination to become what they wanted to be by making the most of what they had. It felt like they had truly "given up on giving up" and were living life to the fullest. Sometimes, people encounter things they become obsessed with or ideals they want to embody, as if possessed. It might be irrational, something that seems foolish to others, like a cat wanting to be a tiger. At such times, as usual, the pressures of age and status send strong signals. "Is it okay for you to be doing this?" When that happens, I recall "Eikichi Yazawa's words" and "the cat who wants to be a tiger." Let's give up on the idea of rationally "giving up" by caring about various evaluations. We are irrational animals. We will eventually be consumed by regret and end up pursuing what we truly desire anyway. This series of experiences led to the creation of the illustration, "The Cat Who Wants to Be a Tiger."