Q.  What does wood mean to you? Are there emotions or philosophies you discover while working with it?

 

 To me, wood is nature itself, yet it also feels like a human being. Whenever I carve wood, I feel as though I am quietly observing a person’s life, encountering the years and traces that the tree has lived through. Each tree possesses its own grain depending on the direction in which it grew. If one works against that grain, the wood tears or the blade is damaged. That is why I carefully shape each form while following the grain, and the process feels as though I am conversing with the life of the tree itself.

 As I work, I often think that life also contains straight grains and crossed grains, just like wood. Rather than forcing ourselves to fit somewhere unnaturally, it feels more natural and beautiful to look deeply into our own inner grain and live in accordance with its flow.

 

Q. Are there moments of immersion or particular emotions you experience while selecting wood, carving it, and applying oil?

 

 When the wood responds well to my hands and slowly allows me to remove parts of itself, it feels as though we are communicating. I never carve too aggressively or split the wood apart all at once. Doing so feels as though I am disregarding the life the tree has lived. When I slowly carve along the grain with the mindset of “Let me carefully trace the life you have lived,” genuine communion begins to emerge. The deeper that communion becomes, the more I enter moments of complete immersion.

 

Q. When do you feel that a finished work has become “a good piece”?

 

 I feel a work is truly good when the maker’s intention is not overly imposed and the inherent beauty of the wood naturally reveals itself.

 Especially when the tree’s own unique character remains irreplaceable and singular. I feel most satisfied when the piece appears simple and unforced, as though it had always existed that way.

 

Q. How are your work and daily life connected? We heard that you also enjoy tea regularly.

 

 Since I began creating tea utensils, my personal tastes have gradually become clearer. There are many beautiful tea wares, but there are always certain pieces that capture my heart more deeply.

 As I observe and personally use tea bowls, gaiwans, and teapots that I love, inspiration for new works naturally arises.

 Tea-drinking time is precious because it allows me to focus on my own sensibilities and preferences. It becomes both a pause between periods of work and an important source of new inspiration. The tea wares I create resemble soil, stones, moss, and forests, so whenever I drink tea, it feels as though I am unfolding a small piece of nature upon my desk.

 

Q. How do you feel imagining your tea wares being used in someone’s everyday life?

 

 The thought that my work enters someone’s daily life and remains with them for many years is truly meaningful. The energy of a tree that grew for decades, together with my own energy, becomes part of another person’s life. I feel deep gratitude toward those who thoughtfully choose my work


睱 茶