Do you believe our hands have a memory? Is there a kind of knowledge or intuition that remains in the hands after years of working with a material?

Yes, absolutely. Speaking specifically about wood, it is a material that has lived and, in a sense, continues to live. It has very distinctive characteristics, while also varying greatly from one tree to another, even within the same species. So you develop a relationship with wood and try to understand it in order to work with it. It is a relationship formed through the body and through feeling, and the easiest way to develop it is through traditions passed down over time. The tradition of woodworking, practised over generations, essentially teaches your body how to work with wood. It is not intellectual knowledge. You can only learn it by doing.

Do you think the people you have worked with, the craftspeople you have met or those who have touched your life have transformed your creative practice?

I have noticed two qualities that good craftspeople tend to share. The first is that they never take shortcuts in their craft. Whatever the right method is, they follow it regardless of the time or effort it requires. The second comes from working with their hands and with natural materials. They know not to rush and are able to let the work unfold at its own pace.

This has changed my practice significantly. Completing a piece slowly without rushing, sometimes spending days observing an unfinished work or a prototype, and being able to remain within the creative process without immediately taking action. All of this allows you to build a deeper relationship with the material I mentioned earlier, while also refining your own perspective.

How much do you think about people when you design? Is the relationship an object will have with its user as important as its form?

Design and making are ultimately for people. Whether that person is you or someone else is not particularly important. The human being always comes first because, in the end, someone will see, use and feel the object.

I never approach design purely through form. What matters to me is how deeply an object can shape a feeling. What does someone feel when they first see it from a distance, then walk around it, touch it and eventually use it? An object can excite you, make you curious, calm you or give you a sense of security, and these qualities often have more to do with the nature of the material than with form itself. To answer the question directly, creating a meaningful and nourishing relationship between a person and an object is one of the greatest rewards for a maker.

What are the sources that nourish you most? Beyond nature and craft, are there things in everyday life or other fields that inspire you?

The teachings of nature have always influenced me most. A worldview that is not about gaining control over nature, but about being part of it, learning from it and allowing it to nourish you, transforms life from a battlefield into a wild and beautiful garden that sustains you and gives you shelter.

If time and place were no limitation, which architect or designer would you want to develop a project with? What new ideas do you imagine that dialogue might bring?

Two people come to mind. One is George Nakashima, the other Christopher Alexander. What they share is an approach to Eastern philosophies as a way of life, combined with an aesthetic pursuit. Of course, I cannot know what would come out of that dialogue, but if it were possible, working with them would be one of my greatest dreams.