At a small bicycle repair shop in town, the owner used a simple stool and a toolbox that held only the essentials for fixing a flat tire. I’ve always been drawn to these kinds of tools—things made by the user, only as needed. Over the years, they gain a patina of use and carry a quiet beauty. My own path in making things has also taken shape in much the same way —step by step, through use and necessity.

In high school, while thinking about my future, I came across an article in an outdoor magazine about the Matsumoto Technical School in Nagano, where students learned to make furniture. “Crafting furniture in the refreshing air of Shinshu”—it sounded good. I immediately went to visit, and my path was set.

After a year in Matsumoto, I missed Osaka and returned. I found a woodworking shop just ten minutes by bike from my parents’ house, where I spent three and a half years making chairs and tables. At 23, I set out on my own. My skills were still unpolished, and I had no money to buy timber, but simply having my own workshop, where I could make what I wanted, filled me with joy.

Oak was too expensive at the time, so I used maple, which was still affordable, to make a chair. Carrying it on my back, I walked into Umeda Loft and pitched it directly. To my surprise, they gave me a two-week display space. I rushed to create a series derived from that chair, shot photos in front of the workshop, and had a local printer make a pamphlet. The response was better than I expected. The “two-week” trial continued for five years, and little by little, it began to feel like real work.

In 1997, together with Hiromi Karatsu, I founded TRUCK and opened a shop attached to the workshop. Since then, for nearly 30 years, I’ve kept making things I myself want to live with.