January Musings
On Weather
January has been kind with its light — sunny, but not the sharp, stinging heat that usually arrives closer to Ramadan and Chinese New Year. The warmth builds slowly from cool mornings into breezy evenings.
From noon to five, the sun stays steady — perfect for cyanotype days. Barely a cloud in sight, only a wide blue sky stretching over the foot of Gunung Raya, quietly promising new possibilities.
On Work & Growth
This month feels like slow experiments. Learning to be intentional, yet spontaneous. Repeating the same gestures until the hands begin to understand on their own.
Also, the reopening of my online shop brought in a few small sales each week — something I’m deeply grateful for. Packing each order still feels personal, like sending little pieces of the studio out into the world. Even with changes in shipping and logistics, things have moved gently and smoothly. Thank you Abang & Kakak Kastam & Poslaju.
A recent workshop for an event launch pushed me to rethink formats and design decisions. It opened up new questions too — about valuing design work, about time, about what it means to grow not just as an artist, but as a small business.
At home, I’m thankful for how natural collaboration has become for my family and me. Years of hosting friends, guests, and strangers have quietly strengthened our rhythm together. Time and time again, I’m reminded of our blessings reflected in the eyes of others. For that, I try to pause, pray, and give thanks.
On Nature
I’ve been paying more attention to small textures — soft sand underfoot, the lapping water from our pond, rustle of leaves, the whistle of wind slipping through the trees.
These days after showers, I let my damp hair dry in the warm evening air. The studio doors & windows stay open, letting light and breeze travel through, the timber floor cool against my back when I lie down.
(Almost) Every Friday morning, Nisa (my pottery friend & resident-artist) and I went foraging for clay by the river. Loamy earth between our fists, clear water swirling cloudy then settling again, sparkling. A quiet kind of magic.
Another magical moment: On our first excursion, my BIL’s dog, Iris and my uncle’s five cats followed us in a line, like a strange little parade. I couldn’t stop checking behind me. Some days feel ordinary until you notice how tender they really are.
On Community
With the help of the Dikaki family and friends of Dodo Project, Nisa led the first Dorodango pilot workshop at Gunung Raya Art Space. We spent the first day foraging for clay nearby, kids and adults alike under the sun, returning with muddy hands and even muddier pants.
The next day, we slowed down — three quiet hours of shaping, smoothing, and polishing our clay spheres until each doro began to shine. Six adults, four children, and two toddlers learning at their own pace, working side by side, sharing stories and laughter under one roof.
Moments like this remind me how simple making things together can bring people closer to nature and to one another. InshaAllah, Dikaki and Dodo Project will continue to host more gatherings like this, and we hope to welcome you soon.