Keiko & RzhuNemogu
Keiko Keiko
RzhuNemogu RzhuNemogu
RzhuNemogu RzhuNemogu
Hey Keiko, imagine if we turned a tea ceremony into a wild dance of colors—like confetti drifting up with the steam, you know? Would that still be reverence or just pure chaos?
Keiko Keiko
That would feel like a page in a new chapter—chaos in the margins, but the core ritual still there, waiting for me to annotate its wildness. It's reverence that’s dancing.