I met Nichiren Buddhism in 2010, when I was 14, as my mother had recently started practising. Four years later, when I was failing my A-Levels and was kicked out of school, I started to chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Within weeks, I joined a new school and passed my exams. From then on, I have always seen proof of the power of this Buddhism.

In March 2018, SGI-UK created an event called Generation Hope, which happened in three locations in the UK and was attended by 6,000 young people. I was involved in producing a video, alongside other young Buddhists, which was shown at the event. It was an amazing experience and the people I met inspired me to create my own personal victory.

I am an artist, specialising in fashion and textiles and I determined to have my first solo art exhibition on 17 March 2019. Although it’s hard to have a solo art exhibition, I spoke to an art curator who was willing to work with me unconditionally!

I still experienced many obstacles. The pressure was building to confirm a gallery and find funding, as well as create the art. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.

In February 2019, my grandfather became seriously unwell and fell into a coma. I chanted deeply and solemnly. I felt as if I was letting my life crumble around me while fixating on my dream of this exhibition.

My family and I rushed over to Germany to see my grandfather. As he did not practise Buddhism, my father, sister and myself chanted for him, sitting next to his hospital bed. We determined to see a clear result before we had to leave and, on the day we were due to go back, we found him sitting upright in his hospital bed looking at the beautiful sunset outside his window. Months later, I spoke to him about how he felt during his coma and he told me that he remembered feeling our presence and hearing us chanting. It gave him hope even from the distant abyss he lay in.

I came back to London with a deeper sense of meaning. I now understood why I wanted to have a solo show. It was to create work and succeed in a way that revealed my Buddhahood. For the first time, I was able to make art without my ego being involved. Right up until the last moment, I calmly and confidently worked on my pieces. Many logistical aspects fell into place. I felt incredibly grateful for what I saw as the protective forces in the universe supporting me.

On 17 March 2019, after months of preparation, the doors to the exhibition opened and guests began arriving. I wanted to treat everyone as a Buddha, no matter who they were. I threw myself wholeheartedly into the questions people were asking about my work. When I was able to take a breath from these energetic dialogues, I discovered that there was a queue of people waiting to ask questions. The gallery was filled with almost a hundred people! The exhibition had been a success.

For the month that the show was on, I received many different opportunities. I was featured in my local newspaper, on BBC London radio and had academic papers written on my work.

I persevered to receive every visitor as a Buddha. As the show built up momentum, the atmosphere was even stronger than the initial opening. People of different ages, backgrounds and genders came to see it.

Even so, I didn’t feel entirely fulfilled. I wanted an opportunity where I could continue to create art and engage with the public.

I was then approached by a representative from the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. They expressed their interest in the show and offered me the opportunity to apply for the renowned V&A artist residency. In an instant, a rush of excitement and fear surrounded me, so I began chanting for absolute victory, no matter what happens with the application.

A few months later, I submitted my proposal to the V&A, which came back partially successful. Following this, I was required to do a one-hour interview in July. As the interview date neared, my anticipation started to become paralysing. So huge was my desire to achieve this position that my confidence was wavering.

In the interview, I struggled to articulate myself as clearly as I would have liked to. A few minutes in, I asked the panel if I could have a quick comfort break. Really, I wanted to chant. I knew that chanting to reveal my Buddhahood was the best strategy for victory. In the bathroom, I roared Nam-myoho-renge-kyo intensely. I soon realised that the purpose of the interview shouldn’t be to impress the panel, but instead to connect with each interviewer’s Buddhahood. I then went back into the room and conducted the interview with this spirit.

I shared that I wanted to support the museum and also planned to create art with the philosophy of Nichiren Buddhism as the foundation

Two days later, I received a call from the V&A residency director. The panel had unanimously agreed that the interview had been great and that my work was to such a high standard that it felt like an opportunity the V&A would not want to miss.

Photo by Chris Reid.

My residency began in October 2019 and, a few months later, I held my first open studio, where the public could view my work and talk to me. Through this, I was able to naturally share Buddhism with many visitors. There was a record turn-out of visitors in the history of artists in residency at the V&A! My residency finished and now I am preparing for my first show produced by a gallery. I have also become an uncle and I feel even more optimistic and hopeful than ever. My faith has become even deeper and I enjoy practising even more. ●