秘すれば花

　　　　　　　―世阿弥

The most essential things make no sound.

They are quietly felt, not overtly shown.

I believe that true meaning dwells in the unseen —

in what is felt rather than explained,

in presence rather than form.

初心忘るべからず

　　　　　　　　　―世阿弥

When things go wrong, when the path feels heavy —

I choose to face my vulnerability, not avoid it.

To keep going, even with fear.

To hold on, always, to why I began.

That is the core I keep holding on to.

“Giving shape to the invisible” — transforming the unseen into something we can feel, through technology and the sensibility of Japanese culture.

I believe that true essence often lies in what cannot be measured —

the atmosphere between people, fleeting emotions, unspoken connections, the breeze, the silence after a sound, the space between words.

These are not things we can quantify. But they matter.

Through the power of technology, I shape these subtle experiences into tangible forms. And by fusing them with the delicate aesthetics of Japanese culture, I give them new meaning. This is the foundation of everything I create.

The most profound beauty is often found in what remains unspoken.

I believe in values that cannot be captured by language or numbers — the subtle shifts in a person’s emotions, the quiet changes in nature, the things we feel but cannot explain.

This is a trust in the depth of human sensitivity — emotion, connection, atmosphere, breeze, subtle echo, and ma. There is meaning in these delicate transitions, and in the ambiguity that surrounds them.

Modern technology often leans toward efficiency, clarity, and visibility.

But I want to use technology as a device for sensing. Something that embraces the invisible — and translates it into something we can feel.

I believe this is another possibility of technology: not just solving problems, but deepening our perception of what cannot be seen.

In Japanese culture, beauty is often found not in the light itself, but in the shadows it casts. Not in the object itself, but in the empty space that surrounds it.

This sensibility is rooted in an appreciation for ambiguity, transience, and restraint — a quiet virtue of not making things too clear.

By bringing this delicate spiritual sensibility into technology, I believe we can reach forms of expression that logic alone cannot touch — expressions that resonate with something deeper and more essential.

Through the fusion of technology and Japanese culture, I aim to give new contours to the invisible — awakening dormant senses within us.

What I seek is to give form to presence that has not yet taken the shape of language — to express what has only been felt, not yet spoken.