I was born in a house of the fabric weaver surrounded by the nature of green. Kee-ton-ton, Ba-totton, weaving sounds of loom, crossing warp and sliding weft between warps, are absorbed into the woods, plants in which add colors to the woven fabric.
The sound of a weaving loom was not only a lullaby but something like air to me. Before creating a work, I make a point of carefully making the concept of methods of using space, planning the layout of letters, expressing how I feel like spun threads were woven up carefully step by step.
Spending a lot of time at this stage to work out the image, a work will grow close to perfection as if fabric were finished in weaving. Sometimes they say that my works look like Running or Playing a percussion musical instrument, in part because, believe, the rhythm of an instrument stays in me and accordingly my works of calligraphy bring in something of rythum.
Power of my own is just like a thin and slim thread. However, warp crossed with weft weaving its way upto completion of fabric weaving, my works on reaching you, may turn to be a woven-up calligraphy, perfection of my work in the true meaning, I hope.