The name tamatebaco comes from the old tale of the tamatebako, a box from a folk story. Today, just a little about what we put into that name.
The box he was told never to open
Urashima Taro brought a box back from a palace beneath the sea, a box he was told never to open. And yet, on the shore, he opened it. Smoke rose, and time rushed forward all at once.
As a child, it seemed a sad story. But reading it again as an adult, you notice this is not a story about treasure.
A box that held time
What was kept in the box was not gold or jewels. It was time itself. That time moves the instant it opens means that, until then, time inside the box had been standing still.
So the box is not a mere container. A box that holds time, and the single instant of opening it. We take it as a story about the weight of that one instant.
In a country that has kept what matters in boxes
Japan has a long habit of keeping what matters in a box. Tools, letters, memories. A box protects what is inside, and at the same time quietly says that it is special. Simply being in a paulownia box changes how the contents look. It is that feeling.
Our factory, too, long before tamatebaco, made all sorts of things. There are metal pieces with a pattern set into each one. A hand wants to make something beautiful. This box is an extension of that.
Your own box that must not be opened
We have not decided what goes into tamatebaco. A ring, a key, a letter. Because we believe each person has their own box that must not be opened.
You could call it a case for jewelry. But it is not only that. To keep something good in a good place. That act itself becomes a form of respect for what you own. To take this box into your life is not to buy a case, but to welcome the act of keeping one precious thing.
And whatever you keep inside, the box will likely outlast it.
The story of how this box came to be is gathered on the story page. Please read it too.