Sketching the Everyday - The Gentle World of Toru Fukuda

Toru's practice unfolds like a visual diary. His illustrations often capture small, everyday observations — a favourite coffee mug, a passing thought, an imagined conversation between sea creatures. They feel personal without being precious, playful without trying too hard. There's a sincerity to the way ideas are drawn and shared, as if each image is a small note left open for others to find.

Much of Toru's work begins as a daily sketch. Sometimes just five minutes, sometimes a little longer. There's no pressure for perfection — instead, a steady rhythm of noticing, drawing, and letting ideas exist as they are. That consistency gives his work its character. It feels lived-in, human, and refreshingly unpolished.

Alongside his illustrations, Toru shares short reflections in both Japanese and English. He writes about process, about creativity, about the small pleasures and quiet losses of everyday life — independent bookshops, tactile objects, the simple joy of making something by hand. These notes add depth without over-explaining, offering context while leaving space for interpretation.

In a visual world that often rewards volume and immediacy, Toru Fukuda's work reminds us of the value of restraint. His illustrations don't demand attention; They reward slowing down, looking twice, and finding pleasure in the ordinary. It's an approach that feels closely aligned with Lagom — thoughtful creativity, made to live with, and designed to bring small moments of joy into the everyday.

How would you describe your work and visual language?

I strive for a clear, cheerful style so everyone who sees my illustrations feels happy.

What draws you to illustrating everyday moments and familiar objects?

Simply because the things closest to me catch my eye most easily, plus, it allows me to create without having to overthink things.

You describe your work as "happy and fun" — what does that mean to you?

I feel grateful for the everyday life, events, and scenery that we often take for granted. Knowing that there are many people in the world for whom even these simple things are difficult makes me realise how happy and fortunate I am. That is what "happy" means to me.

Can you tell us a little about your creative process?

I doodle in my sketchbook almost every day. I just give shape to things that have matured and accumulated unconsciously within me. These often include unexpected characters, which I then develop into finished works.

How important is routine or daily practice in your work?

Doodling in my sketchbook is the most important part of my creative process. I also frequently go for walks in parks, temples, and shrines. Getting outside and walking is essential for me; it's how I organise my thoughts while moving.

Your illustrations feel intentionally simple and unpolished — how do you know when a piece is finished?

The moment I feel satisfied during the process, it's finished. If I find myself touching up a piece for too long, it's usually because the drawing isn't working well.

You often share short reflections alongside your drawings. What role do words play in your practice?

To be honest, there's no deep meaning behind it. I actually find it quite tedious to add comments to my illustrations and would prefer not to, but I do it out of consideration for the viewers, thinking it's better if they understand the artist's intent. Now, it has just become a habit.

Does humour influence the way you approach illustration?

Since I always hope my illustrations make people feel joyful, I believe humour has a significant influence. However, since the meaning of humour varies from person to person, it's hard to define strictly.

What do you hope people feel when they spend time with your work?

I hope they feel a sense of happiness. That said, I know that's just my wish as an artist, so I believe everyone is free to have their own unique impressions.

How do you imagine your illustrations living in the world — in homes, on paper, or in everyday life?

Ideally, I'd be happy if they were displayed in someone's room, but I don't mind if they are thrown away once someone grows tired of them. I see my drawings not as cultural artefacts, but as everyday "consumables." If they can be useful in someone's daily life or economic activity, that makes me happy.