Japan

Unmended

Japan - Ceramics & Kintsugi

8 Days

Starting at $4,800

Women only · 8 guests max

Feb 20 - Feb 27, 2027

Book Now

A woman in a sleeveless gold and black dress smiling with her hand on her hip, standing indoors with decorative lighting in the background.

I came across kintsugi a few years ago and had to know more. The idea that you repair something broken with gold, not to hide the break, but to make it visible, felt like the most honest approach to imperfection I'd ever seen.

We don't repair things anymore. We replace them. Kintsugi says the opposite: that what broke, and how it was repaired, is part of what makes an object worth keeping. It goes further than ceramics. The relationships we replace instead of repairing. The parts of ourselves we'd rather hide than accept.

This week is slow and quiet. You work with your hands. You learn patience. You make something, break something, and make it better. You leave seeing beauty in imperfection.

Sophie - Founder & Host

What to Expect

Eight days in Japan, and you'll never look at something broken the same way again. Mornings in the studio, working with your hands, actually making something. Afternoons are yours: temples, markets, the quiet of wherever you are.

❋ The Philosophy

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken objects with gold. Not hiding the break. Making it visible. The idea is that what broke, and how it was repaired, is part of what makes something worth keeping. And it goes further than ceramics.

❋ The Group

Women-only, eight guests maximum. Small enough that you'll actually get to know everyone, large enough that you're not stuck with the same two people. Real conversations, and connections that last well beyond the trip.

❋ The Experience

Eight days split between two crafts. The first half is about making: clay, pressure, rhythm, and your first real object. The second half is about repair: kintsugi, gold, the slow precision of finishing something broken. One day to experience Japan.

❋ What You Leave With

Ceramics you made with your hands. A kintsugi piece you repaired yourself, gold seams visible. And a different relationship with imperfection. That last part is the one that stays.

A ceramic bowl with a blue and brown glaze, featuring a crackled design, sits on a white marble surface. Some chocolate or brown substance is dripped along the rim of the bowl.

Day by Day

Arrive at your hotel, settle in. Welcome tea in the evening, then dinner together. Good food, good company. The week starts tomorrow.
You start making on day two. Morning begins with clay: its weight, its resistance, the way it responds to pressure. A brief, intentional session watching a master ceramicist at work, not to copy, but to understand the relationship between hand and material. You begin in the afternoon. A first simple piece, imperfect by design. The focus is touch, pressure, rhythm. Not precision. Evening off.
This is the confidence day. Morning introduces the tools: how to shape, refine, and close a form. The afternoon is about completing your first real object. Learning how to finish something, not just make it.
The morning is a conversation before it's a technique. Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with gold, isn't about hiding the damage. It's about making the break part of the object's history. You look at the philosophy: imperfection, repair, continuity. Then you begin. Pre-broken pieces, reconstruction, alignment, the first gold application. You stop before full completion. Repair is a process, not a moment.
No craft today. A full day curated around where you actually are. This is where the group bonds deepen, outside of ceramics. Evening free.
The difference from day two is noticeable: more awareness, more control, less need to force it. A second ceramics piece, or a deeper iteration of the first. The work gets quieter.
You return to your kintsugi pieces. The gold has set. The cracks are visible, not despite the repair, but because of it. You finish the detailing, do the final polishing, slow into the precision of it. Farewell dinner in the evening.
A slow morning. Farewell breakfast. Departures. You leave with objects you made, a piece you repaired, and a new way of seeing imperfection. Airport drop-off.