On-Site Workshop for Foreigners

The ebb and flow of waves.
The whisper of the wind.
Clouds drifting and changing shape.

In contrast, man-made objects—especially those mass-produced—are designed to eliminate any form of fluctuation.
Even traditional Japanese sweets (wagashi) sold in supermarkets must look and taste exactly the same, or they won’t be accepted.

But in truth, everything in nature is different. And that is exactly what makes it natural.

When wagashi are made by hand, no two are ever exactly alike.
Even if you follow the same example, aiming to shape them beautifully, each one will have a slightly different expression.

It’s not about good or bad, skilled or unskilled.
Each piece is a unique reflection of the yuragi that only that person can express.

To me, this is where the natural beauty of being human shines through.

I don’t want people to compare their wagashi with the person next to them, thinking, “Am I better or worse?”
Instead, I hope they’ll lovingly appreciate and savor the one-and-only wagashi in front of them—something that could only have been created by their own hands.

When you listen to the sound of the waves, or feel a soft breeze on your skin, don’t you find yourself thinking, “This feels nice somehow”?

That’s because you’re experiencing the natural yuragi.

In the same way, I hope that when you look at the wagashi you’ve made, you might think,
“Ah… this has a face that feels like me.”
And in that moment, feel the yuragi within yourself.

For me, making wagashi is a way of grounding myself.
I love the quiet time of focusing on the moment and connecting with the ingredients.
Before I know it, something beautiful has taken shape. I eat it, it tastes wonderful, and my heart feels calm and clear again.

If I could share that kind of time with you through Yuragi,
that would be my deepest wish.