Why does Yoshitomo Nara’s work hold such an enchanting power to stick in the mind? Although at first glance the faces of his bulbous-faced, doe-eyed children may seem sweet and innocent, there’s something lurking deeper beneath the surface that subconsciously captivates us. The androgynous children belong to their own world, dealing with the harsh realities of their inner darknesses—guilt, hatred, loneliness—and mirroring Nara’s own experiences of reconciling with himself.

The longest-running retrospective of Nara’s art, encompassing 30 years of his work, currently resides at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, calling into question all the rich influences—from punk music to childhood memories—that Nara has drawn upon during his long career. I find a surprising sense of refuge when looking into his paintings, as if I’m peering into a universe dominated by Nara’s singular vision, his rare ability to translate his worldview vividly onto the canvas.

Nara grew up in the Aomori prefecture of Japan, spending the first few years of his childhood in a home surrounded by an open field. He created his own distinctive world in that first house, fascinated by the small things—the grass, the flowers, the animals—that made up his daily sphere. To me, Nara’s paintings project a strong sense of solitary introspection, as if they hail from an entirely different mind—one alive with the childlike ability to lose oneself completely in a state of flow.

The children in his drawings, not meant to be perceived as male or female, exist in the liminal state of a young mind grappling with the world. They find themselves filled with feelings of angst, rebellion—riding the emotional rollercoaster of being happy, sad, excited or lonely. Most of all, I love Nara’s ability to continually draw from his past and capture the rawness of childhood. He immerses himself in turning his gaze inward, exploring the essence of human nature—following the flow of inner consciousness to always discover something new.