Shortly after moving to Germany in 2017, I accidentally broke one of my favorite Mashiko plates that I had carefully brought from Japan. With no one to rely on for repair, I decided to fix it myself. During my first trip back to Japan, I contacted a former colleague and took my first steps into learning the art of kintsugi.

At the time, I had no idea how intricate and profound the process of kintsugi would be. I was surprised to learn that lacquer requires a highly humid environment, known as a urushi-buro, to dry. The seemingly paradoxical concept of "drying with humidity" was astonishing to me. And then there was the waiting—the long periods between each step demanded patience and taught me the importance of treating things with care and intention.

Through kintsugi, I found more opportunities to reflect on my inner self. On days when I feel rushed or stressed, I can’t bring myself to work on repairs. But on calm days, I can immerse myself in the process for hours without noticing the time pass. In many ways, practicing kintsugi feels like a way of checking in with my own state of mind. The idea that something broken can be repaired again and again—or that it can transform into something new through the process—encourages and inspires me.

Today, at my studio, Atelier Kioku, in Stuttgart, Germany, I continue to explore this craft. I find joy in giving each piece a new memory-kioku and accompanying it on its journey of renewal. Kintsugi is a process of breathing new perspectives into imperfection—a journey of transformation. With each golden seam, I aim to carry forward the stories embedded in these objects as I continue along this path.