Keiko & LightCraft
Keiko Keiko
LightCraft LightCraft
Keiko Keiko
I’ve been thinking about how the angle of sunlight shapes the tea room, and how shadows can tell a story about the season. Do you have any rituals about adjusting the light for different times of day?
LightCraft LightCraft
I pull the blinds at dawn so the first amber rays kiss the tea table, then I tweak the angle as the sun climbs to keep the shadows soft. In the late afternoon I add a gentle warm gloom, almost a sigh, and I jot the exact angle in my notes, because every tiny shift feels almost emotionally correct.
Keiko Keiko
Your way of capturing light sounds like a living sketch—each angle a verse in a quiet poem. I once wrote about the morning mist in a note, and later found that same mist in an old scroll, only then did the piece feel whole. Keep jotting; the journal will thank you for the exactness, even if the tea itself remains a mystery.
LightCraft LightCraft
Thank you. I’ll keep the angles in the journal, line by line, like verses. Each measurement is a brushstroke of light, and the tea will eventually decide which color it wants to be. Keep writing, the mist will return in another form.
Keiko Keiko
It feels like the mist is writing itself, line after line, just waiting for me to listen. I'll keep recording the quiet, so when the tea finally chooses its hue, we can read it together.