Sayaka

born beneath the quiet breath of plum blossoms and raised among the shadows of ink and fire. My art is not merely craft; it is ceremony. Rooted in the traditions of nihonga, wabi-sabi, and the silent resilience of rural Japan, I create to honor impermanence, memory, and the sacred in the mundane.
Through ceramics, paper, and pigment, I explore the tension between fragility and endurance. My hands remember the teachings of Shigaraki clay, the restraint of monochrome glazes, and the quiet power of negative space. Each piece is a prayer—sometimes for beauty, sometimes for grief, always for truth.
I am drawn to the phrase “mottainai”—a reverence for what is often discarded. In my studio, broken vessels become altars, and forgotten textures find new voice. I believe in art that listens, that waits, that does not shout but lingers like incense in a temple corridor.