I started making Kumiko during COVID in 2020. Like everyone else, I was stuck at home and WFH meant I was saving on two hours of back and forth commute and hence more time on hand. Everyone was getting busy with Metaverse which I knew would be Dead On Arrival, yes I always despised it and even deried it in the middle of the euphoria. I wanted to do something with my hands. Something that felt REAL
This is where what was always in my ambient awareness in 25+ years of life in Japan, Kumiko was something I thought would be a great fit for me to attempt for "decor". Very primitive thought. If you are new to Kumiko, it is a Japanese wood lattice made without nails or screws. You cut small wooden pieces and fit them together very precisely. If you rush, it fails. If you get lazy, it shows.
At the same time, I was trying to make my home feel Japanese modern. Not traditional in a museum way, BUT not empty minimalism either. Kumiko felt like the right balance. Old technique, but it still works in a modern home.
I tried locating the NHK video on Japanese aesthetics, Don't know where that video is anymore, but, it was not about furniture or expensive design. It was about light and shadow.
The idea was simple. Light is not just something that helps you see. It is something you design with. Shadows are not a problem. They are part of the space.
That really stayed with me. Until then, I was focused only on the Kumiko pattern itself. After that video, I started paying attention to what happens when light passes through it. The wood was not the main thing anymore. The light was.
I actually started with a vertical ranma(欄間) that I bought on Yahoo Auctions. I installed it in my living room and used LED lights as a backlight. It worked well. I could turn the light on and off, control the brightness, and change the mood whenever I wanted. The ranma is very rare in Japan since its a vertical style. and it is one of my favorit pieve which I purchased off Yahoo Auctions in 2020 June for a cheap 8000 yen (60 dollars)
It looked good and felt modern. But over time, something felt off. The light was always responding to me. I was controlling it. After watching that NHK video, I realized I wanted something more natural.
When I bought this minami-muki home, I noticed that the winter sunlight came in beautifully through one particular window. In colder months, the sun stays low and the light lasts longer, filling the living room in a very gentle way. That made this window special. I decided to make a Kumiko lattice specifically for it, not as decoration, but as something that works with the seasons. In winter, the sunlight passes through the lattice and creates soft patterns inside the room. In summer, the light is harsher and higher, so the effect naturally changes. The lattice was designed around that seasonal behavior, making the window useful, not just beautiful.
For a while, I just watched the shadows in the morning. They slowly moved across the wall and then disappeared. I enjoyed it quietly and did not think of recording it. Then my daughter mentioned how Dadasaheb Phalke made one of the earliest time-lapse films in the early 1900s. He filmed a plant growing by taking photos over time.
That made me think. What if I did the same thing at home. Not with a plant, but with light. Light moving through Kumiko. Time passing inside a normal living room.That idea came directly from her, and it changed everything. Actually doing it was harder than expected. Calls kept coming in. Alarms went off. The time-lapse failed many times.Finally, I put my phone on airplane mode. No calls. No notifications. No interruptions.
I let the camera run for four hours in the early morning. The sun moved slowly. The shadows changed shape. The wall became a canvas. I did nothing except let it happen. At that moment, the Kumiko stopped being decoration. It became something that works with time and light.
This experience reminded me that good design is not only about how something looks. It is also about what it does.
Kumiko gives structure
Light gives movement
Time gives meaning.
Since COVID, I have slowly moved away from extreme minimalism. I also do not like clutter for no reason. What I am aiming for is something in between. Thoughtful, layered, and intentional. I later found out this idea already has a name. Conscious maximalism. This window is a good example of that. It changes every day. It does not shout. It rewards you only if you slow down and notice. That, to me, is real beauty.