In the dyeing process, the light from my memories and the landscapes from my dreams slowly seep into each strand of yarn.

Each time I stand in front of the dye pot, I watch the fine dye powders dissolve into the water, spreading and unfolding like something alive. It was only then that I realized—being able to dye the colors I had imagined countless times in my mind with my own hands, was such a rare and mesmerizing privilege.

This sense of freedom is not merely technical. It is the freedom to experiment and to use my own hands to gradually bring to life those long-held, indescribable colors buried deep within me.

Of course, colors that are full of life cannot be completely controlled. Unexpected results often emerge quietly during the dyeing process.
But if I stay calm and open-hearted, these accidents often lead to new discoveries and unseen landscapes—just like life itself.

At the same time, dyeing feels a bit like running a relay race—I am just holding one part of the baton. After I have imbued a skein with color, what I see at that moment is only a beginning. When the yarn is later unwisted and knitted into fabric, it takes on a completely different face. I am always excited to see how you, the one who picks up the baton, will transform these colors into your own beautiful creations and stories.

I hope to connect knitters and weavers around the world through our yarns—whether Tibetan hand-spun yarns or my hand-dyed yarns—bringing together the stories and journeys we have shared along the way.