the studio wall
The container beneath the craft, laid out as a thing your hands can hold. Pick a lens; the same six facets re-read as a life, a system, or a field.
The artist reads the map as a life: the self is the most intimate container there is — reinvention is re-containing, and home is the container we ache toward. Touch a node to see what it holds.
↳ drag a node · hover for one breath · click to open its specimen
The making, shown — each piece hangs with its working note: material, constraint, tally.
Every piece here is a first-order approximation of what it was trying to be; the practice is to make the approximation and then find its edge, to retrain the ruler by loving the curve.
Process over product; what you see is what was actually made, counted as it happened.
process over product.
counted as it happened.
the tally starts now — honest counts, no invented histories. the wobble is the truth the ruler couldn't hold.
Sixty hand-set diagrams live in the essays. Each one exists to carry a single sentence, and its caption is that sentence — the drawing is the evidence, not a puzzle.
Leaf, canopy, seam, spine, compass, light, arrow. A mark is kept only where it guides the eye or encodes a relation.
A floor under the human mirror pass: it reads every authored file and turns away key-shapes and off-register words before a commit can land.
The footer’s night panel, where the tending chain is shown — every edge carries a verb, and the last word is hers. Assisted, never authored.
clay, wood, thread, lens — when the objects are photographed, they hang here.
the workshop
The apprentices fetch, steady, and time the furnace; the hands that shape the glass are hers. The bench retrains too — what she keeps is the judgment.
Every piece starts from a note in Rika’s own hand and passes the mirror — the one apprentice with the right to refuse — before it grows in public. It will hold a piece back on four grounds only:
The machines keep the scaffold — the feeds, the plumbing, the link that doesn’t rot; the turn of an essay, the curation, and the yes stay in her hands. Assisted, never authored. Nothing is published without her yes.