In February 2026, Nanakai will appear at the Prague Tea Fest.
Not as a performance,
not as a workshop,
but as a quiet practice shared in public.
Wagashi will be shaped by hand,
tea utensils will rest on the table,
and time will slow down for a moment.
This journal is a note on why bringing such stillness
into a busy, open space matters to me now.
Prague Tea Fest is a place where many traditions briefly cross paths.
Tea travels easily across borders, carrying habits, gestures, and ways of listening.
In Prague, a city shaped by layers of history, these paths meet without needing to merge.
The festival is neither a temple nor a marketplace.
It is a space in between,
where hands, cups, and conversations pause long enough
for something unfamiliar to be felt.
Making wagashi in front of others is not about teaching a technique.
I do not explain each movement.
I let my hands work before words arrive.
Wagashi exists only for a brief moment.
It is shaped, held, and then disappears.
What matters is not the finished form,
But the moment it comes into being.
Each piece reflects an inner landscape.
A state of mind, a breath, a quiet shift inside the body.
No two shapes are ever the same,
because the moment is never the same.
I will not be standing there alone.
Tea utensils will share the table with wagashi,
objects shaped to wait for use.
In that shared space,
nothing needs to be explained.
Hands, tools, and quiet attention
will simply coexist for a while.
This appearance is not a conclusion.
It is simply a moment where Nanakai steps into a shared space
and then continues on.
What will remain is not a record of what was made,
but a trace of time spent together,
quietly, and without instruction.
From here, the path stays open.
