A Gift That Sparked a Journey: My Tsumamizaiku Story
A few years ago, I received a gift from a dear friend that would unknowingly set me on a path of creativity and self-discovery. It wasn’t just any gift—it was 2 beautifully crafted hair clip made with the traditional art of tsumamizaiku, a Japanese technique of folding and pinching fabric with tweezers to create intricate flowers.
My heart swelled with a mix of admiration and awe. It was so delicate, so precise, and yet so full of character, a true reflection of the care and passion it took to make it. I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, as though this small gesture held so much more than just a gift—it carried meaning, tradition, and a quiet invitation.
Deep down, I had always wanted to learn an art or craft form like this, such as making jewellery, but this is even more interesting! Something that could connect me to both history and creativity in a way that felt personal and fulfilling. But life, as it often does, got in the way. I was busy with work, family, and the endless to-do lists that filled my days. I had little time to explore the art I’d always dreamed of learning. So, I kept the hair clip, tucked away as a precious reminder of something I longed to do but never thought I’d get the chance to.
Over time, that small hair clips stayed with me. It sat in my drawer, a silent reminder of the possibility I’d once hoped for. And yet, it wasn’t just a symbol of something unattainable. Instead, it became a source of inspiration. I’d glance at it from time to time and wonder if I could learn to create something as beautiful and intricate. Could I take the first step?
One day, after much reflection, I realized that the only thing holding me back was myself. I had always wanted to embrace art, but I’d been waiting for the perfect moment. And I realized the moment was now. I could start small, learn at my own pace, and let my curiosity and passion guide me.
So, I began with the DIY kit which Tomoko had created and started following instructions to do and practised a few times, it gets easier and got me hooked with each fold, each delicate pinch of the fabric, I felt a sense of calm and joy I hadn’t known in a long time. The process was therapeutic. There was something deeply grounding about the careful, mindful repetition. As I learned, I realized that this was more than just a craft—it was a way to connect with myself, to slow down, and to create something meaningful with my hands.
That original hair clips, which had sparked this journey, now holds even more significance for me. And I showed them to each and every of my Tsumamizaiku workshop participants and our Trainers.
It’s a reminder that sometimes, the things we want most are within our reach, waiting for the right moment to bloom. And sometimes, the best gifts are those that not only bring us joy in the moment but also inspire us to take a step toward something new and beautiful in our lives.
As I continue to explore Tsumamizaiku, I feel immense gratitude—not just for the art itself, but for the gift that opened my heart and led me on this creative journey.
Art of Tsumamizaiku 