petal four
One afternoon, he walked into the store, his presence quietly captivating. He stood in front of the kokedama displayed by the window for several minutes, still and deep in thought. There was a calm intensity to the way he observed them—a kind of silent reverence. When he finally turned to ask if I could make more, I asked what he had in mind. That was when he began sharing his vision: he wanted to incorporate kokedama into a new project, using them as a natural, grounding element in his art.
I could feel the excitement behind his words. As the idea began to take shape, I mentioned my upcoming Kokedama workshop and invited him to join. To my delight, he accepted and brought his mom along. There was something quietly special about watching them both with their hands in the soil, creating side by side.
He is someone who naturally stands out, even in a city where blending into the chaos is second nature. His tall frame, curly hair, and the effortless way he wears a skirt while carrying a skateboard make him impossible to miss. But what stays with me most is the way he thinks.
In the middle of an ordinary conversation, he'll offer an idea so unexpected that it gently shifts the way I see things. I always leave our conversations carrying a new perspective.
Lately, he's been exploring breathing practices, weaving them into his work to connect art, body, and mind. Having shared a breathing session with him before, I know how grounding that experience can be, and I hope to join another one someday.
Not long ago, he returned from a year-long art residency in Mexico City. When he stopped by the store, I noticed a quiet calm about him. He handed me a small Mexican turtle ornament along with a note.
That turtle now sits in my store. Whenever the pace of the day begins to pull me along, I find myself looking at it. "When you feel rushed, just look at this turtle. His life is slow and beautiful." Somehow, those words always seem to find me at the right moment.
I look forward to our next conversation more ideas, more stories, and perhaps another quiet breathing session.
Believing in our vision begins with trusting its pace. Sometimes the courage to move forward also means knowing when to move slowly.