The name ROCANIIRU (入蘆花) originates from a Zen phrase often used in tea gatherings: 「白馬入蘆花」—“A white horse enters a field of white reed flowers.”
When a white horse steps into a field of white reeds along a riverbank, both the horse and the flowers dissolve into a single whiteness. Yet, both still exist distinctly—each fully present.
To me, this expresses a kind of embodiment, one that speaks of becoming one with nature.

When I was a teenager, I once drank tea in the mountains under a full moon.
At some point, the complexity of my sense of self faded away, and only the present moment remained—within the moonlit mountain air, in the ever-shifting flow of time.
Just like the white horse disappeared into the reeds, I too dissolved into the moonlight of that night—into nature itself.

That experience remains unforgettable for me.
Perhaps I am still in pursuit of that mysterious sensation—one that words cannot fully capture.

To hold an antique in my hand,
to arrange wildflowers from the fields,
to drink tea brewed with water from the land—

To me, these are all expressions of the same thing: a direct and physical connection to nature.
In the age of civilization, we are gradually losing our sense of embodiment.
In my daily life, I drink tea and connect with the plants;
when I touch old objects, I connect with the earth.
I go into the mountains, dig in the soil, feel the wind—
and in that land, I long to return to nature. That is how I choose to live.

Sincerely,
ROCANIIRU