Ikigai Spotlight Series: Dean Aizawa, Illustrator and Creative based in Tokyo, Japan

The Art of Savouring Small Moments

Ikigai is a concept that is very much integral to Japanese culture. The word 'Ikigai' can be roughly translated to your 'reason for being', or purpose and is not confined to the ‘Venn Diagram’. More on its authentic definition can be explored here.

While Ikigai is essential to one's well-being, the true beauty is that it does not have a fixed equation and can change over time.

At Mogami, we would like to highlight this nuance with our 'Ikigai Spotlight Series'.

This month's featured guest is Dean Aizawa, Illustrator and Creative based in Tokyo, Japan.

Tell us your story.

I was born and raised in Tokyo. I attended The American School in Japan in Western Tokyo from kindergarten to 12th grade before crossing the ocean to go to university in San Francisco, majoring in fine art painting at the Academy of Arts University. There, I took a range of classes, exploring digital drawing, painting, and sculpting, among other forms of art. I slowly made the transition towards illustration around the third year. 

After graduating, I came back to Japan and started freelancing as an illustrator. I also worked at a café, at a brand consulting firm as an in-house designer, and at a co-working space called MIDORI.so as a community organiser. Even now, I mainly work in illustration but I’ve always been tying together other types of work or disciplines such as graphic design and digital painting. On occasion, I also get asked to work with brands—for example, I was interviewed and modelled for a hiking apparel brand.

By reaching out to other fields, I’m exposed to more ideas, and that in turn helps me come back to the drawing board. Hiking, running, and travelling also help with new ideas while keeping me from sitting all day!

What has been your personal journey with your Ikigai(s) or reason for being?

I don't have a specific definition of ikigai because it’s very subjective, but I feel like as long as I wake up every morning, have an eventful day—whether it's work, experience, or connections—and then go to sleep tired at night, in a way that’s ikigai. That gives me a sense of fulfilment.

Added to that, having a roof over my head and being able to sleep for 8 hours in a nice warm bed is such a small and simple thing but I also think it’s something we take for granted. Not everyone has that privilege.

How does your life today reflect your authentic self and life priorities?

I think my authentic self is reflected in how I approach my work and relationships with friends, family, and myself. In terms of my work, my art style isn’t very exaggerated or fantasised. While I might experiment with colours, the proportions tend to be realistic. I try to show things as they truly are or sonomama (そのまま) in Japanese. I think that’s the same with how I approach people—I keep things neutral, truthful, and genuine. 

In general, I prioritise quiet moments alone, spending roughly 70% of the week by myself and 30% socialising—whether that’s going to a soccer game with friends, joining a community hike, or running a watercolour workshop. Self-reflection is also important to me, like writing in a diary or journal about how I felt that day, and it’s often a mix of both writing and drawing. It helps me stay grounded and navigate my life.

Can you walk us through a time in your life when you felt lost? What ideas or tools helped you overcome this period?

There have been two significant periods in my life where I felt lost. The first was after graduating from university in December 2016. For five months, I struggled to find a job. Around that time, many of my high school friends were landing full-time jobs in big corporations and I was the only one who was an artist with a fine art painting degree! What am I going to do with my life? I felt like I was spending time in limbo. I knew I wanted to do illustration but I didn’t know where or how to begin.

It was around that time that I reached out to Adrian Hogan on Instagram. He’s an Australian illustrator based in Tokyo, and I have followed his work since university. I thought he might be someone I could speak to in English about illustration in Japan. When we met, he introduced me to different creatives including the MIDORI.so community. Adrian really helped me get out of limbo and connect me with opportunities. 

The second difficult period was in 2022 when I was turning 30. Even though it’s just a number, I still felt that same “What am I going to do?” feeling. Career instability as well as other things made it an emotionally challenging year. Things started getting better when I spent more time seeing childhood friends, went to therapy, and journalled more. In both cases, connection—with others and with my own thoughts—helped me navigate uncertainty.

Do you think therapy is accessible in Japan? 

Everyone goes to uranai (占い, fortune telling) in Japan, but therapy isn’t mainstream yet. There’s still a stigma around it, and I wish therapy was more accessible. It should be like going to the dentist—something you can check in on with a professional. Aside from therapy, walking, relaxing, and trying new things—like watching an old film or reading a book—really helped me, especially in 2022. A lot of it comes down to self-reflection.

What would be your advice to anyone struggling to live a life of Ikigai?

It can be overwhelming to find a sense of purpose. I was lucky to discover drawing and painting at a young age—my brother, who was five years ahead of me, used to draw, and I would sit next to him, copying his sketches. Even so, I always remind myself to stay curious, explore, and not be afraid to pivot. Having this mindset helped me in university when I wasn’t sure if fine art painting was what I wanted to do—I explored everything from watercolour, acrylic, and oil while also experimenting with digital art, printmaking, and sculpture, before focusing on illustration. I’ve also come to realise that while art is a big theme in my life, it’s not necessarily at the centre, and that’s okay, too.  

If you're searching for something meaningful, it's okay to start small. Rather than fixating on big goals, take small steps—going to bed on time, eating well, or sharing a meal with friends or family. Do what makes you feel alive and surround yourself with good people. If you’re feeling uncertain, know that you’re not alone—many people experience that. I remember when I asked my university friend in the US, “Do you feel fulfilled?" He simply replied, “I made my bed this morning.” Sometimes, that’s all it takes to start. I think that a sense of purpose often follows or comes in its own time.

What does being an illustrator/creative mean to you? 

To me, it’s about seeing the world differently. Every shadow, colour, and fleeting moment holds potential inspiration, so I try to stay attuned to the small, sarigenai (さりげない, understated) moments that often go unnoticed. Always observing and interpreting these seemingly mundane aspects of life is, in itself, a way of existing.

In my workshops, I always say, “Don’t draw what you think you see—draw what you actually see.” Often, that means breaking things down into abstract shapes and colours placed next to each other. It’s about shifting your “eye gears” to see the world in a more abstract way, which ultimately changes how you paint or draw. In a sense, I don’t teach painting itself—I teach people how to see the world differently. 

Growing up with dyslexia, I struggled to keep up with my peers. Writing didn’t come easily to me, and I often felt like I couldn’t fully express what was in my head. Drawing became my way of expressing myself. Now, I often think that as artists, we are visual communicators expressing a concept that other people can see and feel too.

"I don’t teach painting itself—I teach people how to see the world differently."

How do you balance external expectations with your inner sense of purpose and authenticity?

I don’t feel that much pressure from external expectations, but when I work with clients, I want to wow them. While the quality of my work matters, my first priority is how I feel about it—how the piece reflects me.

I like to think of myself as a chef. If a dish is leaving the kitchen, it needs to be perfect—but not necessarily to someone else’s taste. It has to be to my taste. If it’s not good, I won’t serve it. The same goes for painting. I ask myself, Is the balance right? Are the colours working? If the answer is yes, then I can send it out. 

Early in my career, when I didn’t yet have an extensive portfolio, I faced a lot of back and forth. Sometimes I had to create work that didn’t quite feel like me, and I struggled with that. Clients would show me references from other illustrators and ask for something similar. But now, people come to me because they’ve seen my work—they want my style, not a copy of someone else’s. I’ve also learned to turn down projects that don’t align with me or what I do. It’s a much healthier balance between my vision and their expectations.

Looking back, if you could give your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?

Embrace every emotion—joy, sadness, and everything in between. Feelings are like the weather; they come and go. But resisting it only makes it worse and dulls everything. Instead of avoiding difficult emotions, sit with them and learn from them. Like the changing sky—this too shall pass. 

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Reflection by Emma Launder, Guest Contributor

Dean is both a friend and someone I admire for the way he lives—genuinely and authentically. One theme that stood out in our conversation was his ability to find inspiration in the small, seemingly mundane moments of life. This same idea applies to ikigai—a sense of fulfilment often comes from the simplest experiences, whether it's time spent with loved ones or the satisfaction of going to bed tired after a full day.

When it comes to Dean’s art style and attention to detail, it was interesting to hear his perspective: he sees himself as a kind of chef, crafting each piece to serve as a visual experience. Each dish or work of art carries his intention, style, and way of seeing the world. 

Finally, Dean was able to navigate difficult periods in his life through connection and self-reflection, tools that each of us can access to help us through challenging times. His watercolour painting of a snow-covered mountain reflects his advice to his younger self—embracing all emotions can be as challenging as hiking up a mountain, but at the peak, it's quiet and calm.

About Emma: Emma hails from the land of the rising sun and of the long white cloud (otherwise known as Japan and New Zealand). She’s often asked “Why?” and “What are we here for?”, and this has culminated in a deep desire to learn more about the big questions in life, especially surrounding purpose and ikigai. She’s currently based in Tokyo and works in PR and communications.

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Reflection by Saori Okada, Mogami Founder

What I often find challenging in conversations about ikigai is how easily it gets mistaken for something we must find—as if it’s waiting somewhere grand or far away. But as Dean reminds us, ikigai isn’t always loud or linear. It can live in the quiet structure of our days—waking up, moving through the world, sharing a meal, going to bed tired after a full day. There’s a quiet beauty in that rhythm.

His words stayed with me: “If you're searching for something meaningful, it's okay to start small.” Often, we overlook just how meaningful the small acts can be. Fulfilment doesn’t always arrive as a revelation—it often emerges gently, through presence, connection, and care.

What also struck me was Dean’s reflection on how he teaches others to see: “Don’t draw what you think you see—draw what you actually see.” Though he was speaking about art, to me, it felt just as relevant to how we live. So often, we move through life based on assumptions, projections, or what we think should be. But shifting how we see—slowing down, paying attention to what’s truly there—can change not only how we draw, but how we relate to ourselves, others, and the world around us.

In this way, Dean offers us a kind of guide. He reminds us that taking agency in our lives doesn’t always mean doing more. Sometimes, it’s simply about seeing with more honesty. Observing things as they are—and finding something meaningful, even tender, in the act of noticing.

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Do you want to learn more?

You can find out more about Dean Aizawa's work here

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What did this story bring up for you? Comment below.