For years, I lived in a world where time was measured in deadlines and success was counted in numbers. I worked in finance, in investment banking. It was a life that was loud, fast, and always reaching for the next thing.

But somewhere between late nights and bright screens, I began to feel something missing. A soft ache that no achievement could quiet. I missed creating with my hands, feeling connected to the earth, and losing myself in art instead of analytics.

So I listened to that ache. I slowed down. I learned to make again — to melt, to mold, to shape, to feel. And in that process of making, I began to heal.

That’s how Mikaya came to life. It wasn’t planned in a spreadsheet; it was born in silence, out of a deep need to reconnect.

Mikaya became my way of turning stillness into something tangible, something you can hold, touch, and breathe in. Every piece is a reflection of that journey, from the restless to the mindful, from the hurried to the whole.

Today, Mikaya stands for the art of slowing down, for the ones who have forgotten what peace feels like.