There are things I want to convey through Kintsugi. --That scars will eventually become a part of your strength. --That even small steps will surely lead you somewhere. --And that it's okay to be yourself. These feelings originate from my mother, who passed away when I was young. The scars on her chest from breast cancer surgery. Decades later, inspired by a friend's work, I was researching Kintsugi, and I came across an artwork online from overseas that depicted surgical scars with gold lines. As I was translating it, images of my mother and my own feelings at the time came back to me all at once, and I remember feeling a strong sense that, "I don't know why, but I have to work in this field." To me, Kintsugi is more than just a "technique for repairing pottery." It's the process of infusing new beauty into broken parts and transforming scars into strength. In life, too, having just one supportive person can greatly change the path you choose. I hope that Kintsugi can be a kind of "companion" to someone. Of course, for me in the future. And for my precious sons, family, and loved ones as well. When you're going through a tough time, when you feel stuck, when you want to believe in yourself again -- It can be something to gently support you, giving you a push and telling you, "It's okay to be just the way you are." Wounds turn into strength. Even small steps will surely lead to the future. Everyone is beautiful just the way they are. Don't push yourself too hard, and don't conform too much to someone else's expectations. It's okay to live more freely, more quietly, and at your own pace, following your heart's desire. As Kintsugi shows us, I believe we can slowly walk the life we choose, each and every one of us, just as we are.