A Quiet Resolve

I once dreamed of living abroad.
But as natural disasters struck, values shifted, and the world trembled, a quiet determination took root within me: I want to stay in Japan. I want to protect this land. Through my work, I want to preserve and share what I feel is precious in Japanese culture.

Compassion, gratitude, reverence for the unseen—the quiet strength to repeat the same act with care and intention.
These are not relics of the past, but seeds we must nurture for the future.

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Prayer and the Invisible

My glassblowing practice begins with faith in what cannot be seen.
I search for forms that feel warm and alive, breathing into molten material while listening and responding.
It often feels less like I am shaping the glass and more like the glass is guiding me.
In that moment, I realize: I am not in control—I am being held by this Earth, alive.

This process demands complete focus and trust. In many ways, it is a form of prayer.
To believe that something meaningful can emerge from my hands, even without certainty—that, too, is a prayer. For me, prayer is not a grand ritual. It is the quiet gesture of closing my eyes and whispering "thank you." It is the practice of gratitude and the placing of hope into a future not yet seen. I carry that spirit into every piece I create.

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Living Motifs

My motifs include animals, food, and everyday objects—fragments of life, each carrying their own energy.

Animals

Animals embody a strong will to live.
Especially in the wild, their freedom and strength move me deeply.
They speak without words, expressing life through every motion.
In my work, I aim to gently hold their presence, uplifting their beauty and power.

Food

When I create food in glass, I reflect on the meaning of "Itadakimas".
It’s more than “let’s eat.”
It’s gratitude for lives given, for the land that nourished, for the people who harvested, transported, prepared, and shared.
It’s thankfulness for the body that allows me to sit and eat.
Through these playful forms, I express deep respect—wrapped in warmth and joy.

Objects with Spirit

Since childhood, I’ve felt that everything has a spirit.
This sensitivity is rooted in my upbringing in Konkokyo, a spiritual tradition that sees the Earth itself as sacred.
It also resonates with the Japanese idea of yaoyorozu no kami—the belief that gods dwell in all things.
This perspective nurtures in me a respect for every object, every breath, every moment.

When I give characters to fruits or utensils in my work, I hope people might pause and wonder:
“How did this apple feel today?”
That simple shift toward empathy and playfulness is what I value most.

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A Colorful Heritage

My sense of color, character, and humor is shaped by the pop culture I grew up with—
anime, manga, and films where laughter meets sadness, and beauty meets strangeness.
These stories taught me not only how to see the world, but how to feel it.
I see my work as a continuation of that tradition, where everyday things might come alive and joy can live beside vulnerability.

To care for the smallest details is, for me, an act of love.
That care is where my Japanese sensibility naturally resides.

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From Now to the Future

Through my work, I hope to plant small moments of awareness and empathy in the viewer’s heart.
In today’s fast-moving world, I feel that such sensitivity—toward others, toward beauty—is becoming harder to hold onto.
But glass, with its ability to last for decades or even centuries, allows me to preserve the spirit I believe is worth passing on.

With each piece, I try to send something quiet, gentle, and vital—
from this moment into the future.