After earning my Bachelor's degree in Design and Architecture from Chulalongkorn University, I returned to my roots in Yasothon, Thailand, to work at my family’s rice mill. Immersed in its rhythms, I began to notice beauty in what was often overlooked—byproducts and waste, remnants of a cycle that never truly ends. My hands became instruments of exploration, sifting through biomass ash, searching for its hidden potential. This journey led me to establish KOR - AIR - LOR - BOR in 2022, a studio named after the Thai term for "rice husk." More than a name, it is a metaphor for learning—before we speak a word, we must first listen to its sound. Likewise, before discarding a material, we must first understand its story. Through my work, I seek to reawaken curiosity, inviting others to see, perceive, and imagine new possibilities in what is often cast aside.
 

Alongside this path, clay has been a quiet yet persistent presence in my life, calling to me through forms and textures that have always felt familiar. Since my undergraduate years, I have been captivated by its dual nature—both yielding and defiant. Clay is not merely shaped; it converses. It listens but also resists, demanding patience, trust, and surrender. Working with it feels like a dialogue—half my will, half its own. It is stubborn yet fragile, unpredictable yet deeply grounding. I never expected to return to this material, but now, in my master’s studies, I find myself rediscovering its depths. Perhaps, like rice husk ash, clay was always waiting, ready to reveal itself when the time was right.