In 2017, I arrived at a client’s house. When she opened the door, she smiled sheepishly and asked, “This may be a weird question, but do you happen to know Hajime Kanzaki?” My eyes widened. “Yes- he’s my dad!” She led me into the living room, where his ceramics were displayed on the mantle. They were heavier and had a matte glaze, but the abstract brush strokes and signature at the bottom were my dad’s. “What a small world!” she exclaimed. “My mom loves his work and went to one of his sales in 1990.”

He’s spent 63 years perfecting his craft. It’s mind-boggling to imagine the hundreds of pots, cups, vases, and platters he created. All from a lump of clay that he breathed life into. Molding, shaping, and forming it into something with greater potential and possibility.

He never concerned himself with making good art that would sell. Rather, he was committed to being a good man who made art.

Seeing everyone who came out for his final sale was like a living memorial. We shared laughter, stories, and memories. He always told me, “Not everything you make will be for everyone, and that’s ok. Some things speak to others, and some things won’t. Make art that comes from your heart. Don’t worry about what sells.”

Perhaps that’s the beauty. We’re all unique. There is something out there for everyone. We merely have to listen to our hearts and create from that place.

After the sale, he donated 100% of his proceeds.

Every piece sold.