Hello.
I’m Swishmar Shell, an independent artist.
The cold weather makes the warmth of a bowl of ramen feel especially comforting today.
Although the forecast says this cold spell may end sooner than expected,
I wonder how it will actually turn out.
Today, I’d like to record the guidance my father gave me throughout my life.
1. Don’t waste time.
In my thirties:
He meant, of course, “Stop drifting through life—playing games, going to the job center, doing interviews, drinking, and remaining unemployed.”
Now:
I’ve passed several qualification exams through efficient study, and as I focus on my artist profile and creative activities, I can’t afford to waste time anymore.
2. Are you hesitating, or are you suffering?
In my thirties:
I believe he meant, “Be clear about which it is.”
Now:
Refining cognitive‑behavioral approaches to untangle worries has become part of my current work.
These days, I’m neither lost nor troubled.
3. Don’t rush around.
From my late twenties to thirties:
He meant, “Don’t behave in ways that trouble others.”
Whenever I tried to move quickly—because I didn’t want my internal rhythm or imagined motion to be disrupted—he would point it out, often at the exact moment I sped up.
4. Speak louder.
Since my teenage years:
My voice has always been quiet.
Now I’m trying to strengthen it through singing streams.
I’ve trained so much that I’ve lost my voice many times.
5. Follow the path you believe in.
From age 10 through my twenties:
My varied work experiences felt like twists and turns, but they helped me climb upward.
As a result, my current artistic work has become the guiding purpose for the next 25 years of my life.
6. (When my father, who worked rotating shifts, was sleeping…) “Be quiet.”
From ages 5 to 10:
I learned to be considerate.
At school, I valued being calm and quiet.
A quiet personality formed.
At home, I avoided making noise—walking silently like a ninja,
even learning “silent steps.”
This developed into a reserved and cautious nature.
7. Don’t waste electricity or water.
From my early teens to early twenties:
I stopped leaving things running.
I became conscious of energy saving.
I analyzed household electricity use scientifically—calculating the consumption of refrigerators and freezers.
I built a small solar power system capable of charging a mobile phone.
I studied batteries and basic electrical work on my own, soldering LED illumination circuits for my car.
I became interested in water‑saving structures.
I replaced all warm‑colored incandescent bulbs with 5W LEDs.
They look identical to 20–45W bulbs, so no one can tell they’re LEDs—but even so, I don’t leave them on unnecessarily.
This awareness of home equipment led to more:
- Using my experience as a sash installer, I replaced window screens and worn-out sliding door rollers.
- Using my cleaning job experience, I cleaned windows, sinks, toilets, hallways, and bathrooms to near professional standards.
8. Don’t raise your voice.
Because my parents and siblings all worked rotating shifts, I grew up being told to stay quiet.
As a result, people at workplaces sometimes saw me as unresponsive or slow to react.
Even when I tried speaking louder—thinking it might be socially appropriate—I was told, “Don’t be loud.”
A contradiction.
My father, after 30+ years at a major local factory and serving as a supervisor, naturally speaks loudly.
So what should I, his son, do?
The answer, I realized, is:
“Don’t speak loudly in situations where it would disturb others.”
9. “I have three or four things I want to say.”
He said this with his face red from drinking.
It was an extension of the earlier “Are you hesitating or suffering?” conversation.
From 2000 to 2008, and again after the 2011 earthquake, economic shifts and changing views on life and death forced me to leave several jobs.
Even so, I worked hard, believing each job had a mission.
Hearing those words in my early thirties—after years of effort—felt like my entire path was being denied.
I couldn’t say anything back.
After that, meaningful conversations with my father became nearly impossible.
When he drank, conversations turned into three or four hours of arguments.
I learned firsthand the cycle of emotional exhaustion, sleeplessness, and going to work the next day.
That’s why I realized that living independently would lead to a more constructive life.
Even now, he doesn’t talk to me when sober, and often doesn’t remember what he said after drinking.
It’s far better for him to focus his attention on his grandchildren, where he can be a happy grandfather.
My grandmother and grandfather once ran a sweets shop together.
Their cooperative life was a precious form of love.
My father also supported my grandmother after my grandfather passed away, and I often saw their warm relationship when helping in the fields.
Even without words, I learned from watching their backs.
So if he truly has “three or four things he wants to say,” I can understand that feeling.
But ultimately, in my thirties, without needing to hear those words, I had already found my purpose—
to create music that can ease the suffering of people in a new era of human rights and peace.
I’ve already begun walking that path with both feet firmly on the ground.
Thank you very much.
Now, Introduce a song.
「Hoshi no Monogatari」
Artist ＆Song writer : Yumi Matsutoya
Producer : Masataka Matsutoya
Source : Universal Music LLC
選曲を、ご紹介しております。