I am intrigued by humanity. Where we can go, where we're at now and how we proceed to the future. Barbaric, intelligent and still lacking sympathy, we humans ape the world into catastrophe. That's at least how media has taught me with fear. Hence, I wonder about where trash goes. I wonder how recycling is done right and wrong. I wonder how our consumption will meet its end. How will we meet our end...? 

I am intrigued by our hope. Children and things like that. I used to be like them too, once happy and careless. Taciturn I became as wiser I've become. Age comes with sourness. Therefore I paint butterflies and sweet things like that. Why not teach them some too, by limiting my visual language to simple things like circles, triangles and squares. Break some rules on the way. 

In two paragraphs this is me. 

I am selling art because I am therefore I am. I skipped thinking there. I am therefore I am. Me? I am Charles Osawa from Los Angeles, city of angels. 

Hello everyone. 

I've been making trash. 

I stopped counting but when I complete it should add up to like 100. 

100 trash army lol. 

They're all gonna look like eachother. 

Just like you, and me, and you and me and you. 

Cuz we're all same in the end. 

...

are we not?

www.charlesosawa.com

your one and only cult leader

ゴミとバスキア

たまには日本語でも書きます。

漱石が好きで、一時は物書きにはまっていたこともあります。

かわいいゴミを作っています。

ゴミなんて誰も欲しがらないじゃあないか。

いくら綺麗でもゴミは売れないな。

よっぽどのものでも。

そう言われます。しかし概念は時代の風潮。

バスキアの絵画が落書きと言われた時代もあったように。

happy be happy

I have cult followers.

A lot of them are secret followers who creeps on me.
Yo don't be shy.

Cult followers worry not.
I won't let you down.

Life feels like an addiction.
I thought we were done.
Then we go nuts.

Can't let go of it.
Don't you need a fix?
It's called Happiness, we're hooked.

Logic throws us off.
I still remember the man, who looked into mine, to ask -
"What, is Happiness?"

"It's a moment" I replied.

We live for this moment.

Happiness.

robotto

I gotta write generic stuff. 

I have an idea. 

Let's run an Ai writing the most generic stuff. 

It will be so mundane you gotta doubt it's human. 

Because we are unique and creative. All and all. 

You're not a robot, are you?

This is a photography blog

I'm being confused by people that I'm an artist.

I'm a photographer faking as an artist. Just like Warhol. That man got called out by Dali's wife.

I am a designer as well. I designed my art. Like Eames. That man only made one building.

Maybe I'm like a kid trynna get in with a fake I.D, to the sunnyside of the factory.
You know, just like everyone.

Los Angeles.

I guess that's why I make art from trash.

But you know, it's just how things are.

Because I've been always called out as an artist, all my life. I got tired denying.
There was a girl who got tired of bending back for me.
She told me to be serious about my art.

A homeless told me "there's so many bodies burried in those mountains."

This was my third time hearing the story of bodies in mountains of Los Angeles.

Maybe it's bodies of lost angels.

"Yeah man they are all in the parks"
"You'll see crazy shits man, rituals and stuff"
"Yeah, they're all religious. They believe in this thing called...."

"It gets really real fast here. Especially from like 2 to 5."
That's AM.

I make trash sculptures and stuff like that.
If you see a homeless dude with my trash pendant, ask him about Echo Park.