This year, our release pace has slowed considerably, especially on the brush-handle design front.
I've been reflecting a lot on my design work over the last few years. OUMO's brush handles have always followed three paths: themed design, such as various limited editions; paradigm design, where classic design philosophies are absorbed and transformed; and series design, like the 极 Series.
But something was always missing: a soul of our own.
So "forging the soul" became the single most important thing I've been wrestling with in design these past six months.
I spent a great deal of time reviewing and re-examining our design journey — and I finally noticed something: whether consciously or not, I've been drifting toward Ming-dynasty design all along.
The realization hit me: Ming-style design should be the soul of OUMO. The yin-yang line work, the ice-pan rim, the upswing of eaves and bracket sets — the very essence of Ming design can flow into OUMO's philosophy with a natural fit.
Why the Ming dynasty?
The Song dynasty is too refined — too much the scholar's airs. The Qing dynasty is too ornate — too eager to show off its own craft. The Ming sits exactly in the middle: it follows rules, but never lets them become its cage. It embraces ornament, but always in service of function.
The core of Ming design is utility over form. Every design decision serves a purpose. That aligns perfectly with OUMO's own philosophy. So choosing the Ming dynasty was hardly a choice at all — it was simply the natural thing to do.
This isn't about replication. It's about translation through design.
We're not copying old things and grafting them onto new ones. We're translating the soul of Ming design, letting it take root, sprout, grow, and flourish within OUMO's language.
This is where we begin — with a small trial. We've named this collection "Five Ming Vessels." I'll be honest: the name is rather grand for what it is, and it inevitably borders on pretension. But the intention is what matters.
Internally, we call this series "Ming-Simple" — a reminder to use our elements with restraint, to distill only the spirit, and to never show off. At the same time, these five brush handles offer a glimpse of where OUMO's design is headed.
The Black Gauze Hat (Wusha) / 乌纱
The cap wall — low at the front, high at the back — is built of layered, folded lines, each ridge pressing down on the next.
I extracted that folded line and placed it at the shoulder of the handle. When you grip the brush, your finger settles naturally into that step.
A Ming-dynasty official, upon donning his black gauze hat, would always straighten his robes and rearrange his cap. This brush carries that same feeling: ceremonial, but never stiff.
The Wing Extensions (Zhanjiao) / 展角
The wings are the side extensions of the gauze hat. In the Song dynasty, they were called "long-footed futou" and were drawn out extremely long — reportedly to keep officials from whispering on duty. The Ming shortened them, and what had been a functional tool became more a mark of status.
Translated onto a brush handle, this design lends visual balance while also giving the grip clear tactile feedback: a flick of the fingers tells you exactly what angle the brush is at.
The wings are for others to see. But this brush is for you alone.
The Plum Vase (Meiping) / 梅瓶
I believe the meiping is one of the most elegant forms in Ming porcelain. Rounded shoulders, a waist that draws in, a foot that flares slightly outward. Every line carries force. Every corner is doing work.
Most people assume the plum vase was made for flowers — but it was originally a wine vessel. It can hold wine, it can hold flowers, and most importantly, it stands steady. Beautiful, and genuinely useful.
The Bracket Set (Dougong) / 斗拱
The dougong is arguably the most brilliant structural system in Chinese architectural history. Marrying aesthetics and mechanics, it remains a classic in the world history of architecture even today.
When translated onto a brush handle, it works not as decoration alone, but as the union of structure and ergonomics. It opens up an extraordinary range of foot-taper possibilities: while full function is preserved, you discover that a tapered foot can be this beautiful.
Ming-dynasty artisans understood a truth long before we named it: the best ornament is function itself. To the surface eye, something may look like a mere flourish, but every line is doing real work.
The Imperial Seal (Yuxi) / 玉玺
The Ming imperial seal: square, upright, grounded. A slanted shoulder, a tiered base. No extraneous line anywhere across the form — and the moment it presses down, it is authority.
This is the simplest of the five: a slanted shoulder, a straight body, a flat-cut foot. No curves, no protrusions, no ridges. Nothing.
And yet nothing is missing.
Level horizontals, plumb verticals. The heavens round, the earth square. Extreme restraint buys you a return to simplicity — restraint itself becomes the aesthetic.
"Five Ming Vessels." To be honest, these are five brushes, nothing more. The word "器" — vessel, instrument, great implement — is too vast a word for what we're offering. But we're simply chasing an auspicious sign, the way a new shop opens with a wish for good fortune. This sign is for OUMO's future.
The forging of the soul begins today. As for the soul of the Ming style, we will keep it on a slow fire, and nurture it patiently.
Thanks for sticking with me.
Carry