MESSAGE

The time I touch the soil is the time I feel truly alive.
I knead the earth in my palm, shaping many hemispherical parts by twisting and molding lumps of clay by hand. I join them, cut them, and carefully balance each form.

This unbalanced balance often causes strain and cracks. I fill and shave the cracks to repair them, and if cracks appear again while drying, I fill and shave them once more.
I spin and shape, again and again, repeating this cycle endlessly.

Now, the act of playing with the soil itself feels like the steps of life. It’s fascinating how this process never quite fits into my schedule—and that unpredictability makes it all the more meaningful.