TSUKITORI

Once upon a time, at the bottom of the ocean, there lived an octopus named 月捕り (Tsukitori) — "Moon Catcher". He had eight tentacles and eight memories: each of something that had disappeared. One was about a current that no longer existed. Another was about a fish that whispered dreams. The third was about a storm that passed without a trace. The rest were about lost meanings, elusive as the movement of a wave... Over time, Tsukitori realized that everything he remembered had lost its weight, and everything that exists does not require memory. He left the ocean and lay down on a rock that looked like the moon, under the open sky. People considered him a paper holder — a convenient form. But everyone who touched him suddenly remembered something he had never known: the taste of transparency, the sound of silence, the outline of their own thoughts. And now it lies like a varnished pause between thoughts, as if it had left the abyss to guard another: a paper, silent one — a library where ideas slumber until someone touches them with their gaze. There is no movement in its eight tentacles, but there is balance. It guards the peace of thoughts that have not yet been spoken. It is not from the depths of the ocean, but from the depths of meaning. Among notes, letters, drafts — it becomes a starting point where chaos is ordered effortlessly, simply through presence. When a hand reaches for paper, it does not interfere — it agrees. As if to say: “Take only what is truly important. Leave the rest at the bottom.” Marble, Takamaki-e, mother-of-pearl inlaid eyes, 6 cm x 5.2 cm x 4.7 cm. 2025. Available for purchase.