What emerged was a unique artistic perspective: a visual language that treats cars not only as cultural artifacts, but as canvases. “I was drawn to how much overlap there is,” he says, “between the aesthetics of kaido racers and lowriders. Both are about rebellion, but also about beauty.”

Kei speaks of detail obsessively—not the utilitarian kind, but the kind that borders on poetic compulsion. The curve of a fender. The placement of a decal. The ritual of driving as a performance. In his work, the mechanical becomes expressive, even spiritual. He’s not interested in performance specs. He’s interested in devotion.

Through CarService, Kei captures this ethos across mediums—photography, video, installation, apparel. Each project feels like a transmission from a parallel world: a Tokyo imagined through VHS haze, print ad saturation, and the endless glow of tail lights.

But for all its cool surfaces, there’s intimacy beneath the aesthetic. Kei talks about the tension between individual vision and community: the push to honor tradition while also warping it, subverting it. In his words, CarService is not just an art project—it’s a platform to expand the culture on his own terms.

“I started it because I wanted to see how far I could stretch what this could be. How much culture could grow out of a single car... or a single idea?”

What’s most compelling about Kei’s work is its emotional undertow. It’s easy to focus on the visuals—the slickness, the style—but at its core is a deeply personal archive: of childhood fascination, of family influence, of evolving masculinity and belonging. Like a meticulously built custom car, Kei’s project is both sculpture and vessel. It carries stories. It invites you to ride along, to listen closely to the engine beneath the visuals. Because if you pay attention, you’ll realize: this isn’t just about cars.This is about motion. About memory. About meaning, built and rebuilt, until it gleams.