Points connect, becoming scenes of everyday life.

One spring day, as flowers began to bloom, I found a cabinet that felt right for a room I had just started living in.

When the cabinet arrived, I found myself wanting a vase that would suit it.

Because it was a cabinet I truly liked, I decided to look for a vase made by an artist.

On a bright summer day, a child was born and our family grew.

So that we could all sit together, we brought in a large table and chairs.

Then, I began to want tableware that would suit the table where our family gathers.

With the large table set in our home, brothers and friends began to gather, and the house grew lively.

I found myself looking for slightly special tableware by artists, and a vase to hold bright, beautiful flowers.

On a day when a gentle autumn breeze was blowing, as I gazed at the street trees through the window of a city room, I was reminded of the countryside from my childhood.

I went out into the city to look for plants and vessels that would suit this room.

On a freezing winter morning with snow falling, in the house in the countryside, a favorite chair I once stretched to buy in my youth stands quietly, as if it had always been there.

Points connect and become lines,

imagination connects objects to objects, taking shape.

It is a free and abundant time of imagining.

The cabinet I found that day now sits in my son’s room,

where he has begun living on his own.

My son has begun searching for a vase that would suit that cabinet.

The daughter born on that summer day now has a family of her own,

living lively days with that large table and those “special” dishes.

Alongside the trace of orange juice she once spilled on the table as a child.

From maker to user, and on to the next bearer,

the journey of objects continues.

Along that journey, we hope Rurbanism can exist.

A line connecting furniture and vessels.

A line connecting people and objects.

A line connecting people to people.

Rurbanism begins offering furniture.