Both shibari and kinbaku, often used interchangeably and interpreted differently depending on who you ask, don't necessarily require the practitioner to have any specific philosophy. As an artist attempting to fine-tune my art, I believe having a personal guiding philosophy helps me on my journey. My art is dynamic and changes depending on who I'm with in the moment, but I still uphold a core philosophy as described here.
There are many different layers to shibari and kinbaku. How many layers really depends on who is practicing. There can be very few layers in the case of purely decorative rope work and photography. There can be many complex layers when the session is more intimate and connection focused. These layers could be physical, emotional, psychological, sensual, sexual, and even spiritual.
I uphold a safety first philosophy when I practice rope. Each layer has its own component of safety associated with it. For example, the physical layer has physical safety elements: proper tying techniques, safety items like EMT scissors, etc. The sensual layer has safety elements such as communication and boundaries.
Safety is a doorway that brings us to a hallway filled with doors. Each door leads us to different rooms with different possibilities. But, how do we get to the first doorway? There's a walk we must take together before we can feel safe enough for the door to appear. The walk is a short journey of establishing a foundation of trust through conversation.
This conversation aligns us on our goals, ensures our boundaries/consent, and prepares us for the longer journey ahead. Walking through the doorway together then, we can choose how to build upon that trust. Each session is time spent strengthening trust and safety together.
Rope is not just a tool, it's a language. How we use it to communicate is up to us, but it's important to understand that it's a dialogue. Our session is not something I do to you, it's something we create together.
You guide the session through your responses, your boundaries, your desires. I am the conduit, but you are equally the artist. Without mutual presence and deep listening, kinbaku cannot exist. As I tie you with care, our trust strengthens. Communication is not just what is shared through rope, it is an act of listening as well.
Modern society often prioritizes instant gratification, and with that, the journey to sexual gratification has been reduced to as few steps as possible. How do we, then, allow ourselves to experience a calm sensuality?
The experience with me is slow and intentional. Like any good story, we establish our characters—who I am, and who you are, in this moment together. Our journey starts in a room, with each other, our bodies, and rope. I flow with you as you react to my presence, my touch, and my ropes. The anticipation we build brings us to the climax of the story. Then we descend back down, bringing us closer together when the journey ends.
I believe the sensuality component of rope is important because we can be vulnerable enough to experience something we truly crave. There is a deep connection and arousal that can be achieved through rope when we forget about the pressures of society and tune in to our raw human nature.
While sensuality has been largely forgotten, sexuality has become a commodity. When it's not being treated as such, it's a unique bonding experience. As stated, my philosophy is safety first. In our sexual layer, safety is no less important.
Only through proper discussions of consent and testing do I consider sexual play. As much as I put my partners' safety first, I must also ensure my own safety. While we may be sensual with each other, this does not permit either person in the session to cross into a sexual layer unless consent to do so has been established. Physical arousal is not consent.
Kinbaku asks us to be vulnerable—not just physically, but emotionally and psychologically. When you surrender to the rope, you also surrender to being seen. In that vulnerability lies the possibility for transformation. The rope can evoke emotions you didn't know you were carrying. It can bring you face-to-face with parts of yourself you've kept hidden.
As the rigger, I hold space for that transformation with compassion and reverence. My role is not to push you into places you're not ready to go, but to create the conditions where you feel safe enough to explore your edges. Sometimes that means intensity and challenge. Sometimes it means gentleness and care. Always, it means honoring what emerges.
While rope bondage inherently involves physical restraint, there is also an aesthetic restraint in my practice. I aim for simplicity over complexity, for meaningful tension over excessive rope. Each wrap should serve a purpose—whether functional, aesthetic, or emotional. Less can be more when every element is intentional.
This doesn't mean my ties are always minimal or simple. But it does mean I constantly ask myself: Does this rope serve the moment? Does it enhance the connection, the sensation, the expression? If not, it doesn't belong. The art is in knowing when to add and when to stop.
Rope is highly individual. Each person has their own approach and point of view. Each session is unique and the path we take together will be different every time. There is no final destination - it's a never ending process.
I appreciate all those who enter my ropes. You are sharing a side of yourself with me that, quite possibly, no one else has seen or will ever see. You have my utmost respect and gratitude.