On Kolahon and the Pale Planet Meguro

“Not everyone will understand it—but those who do, feel it completely.”

Over the years, I’ve found myself drawn to artists whose works comprising lingering quietness without spectacle. Often I’ve elatedly collected their august creations long before ever meeting them. Some became friends. A few became collaborators. Most of these encounters happened not through formal introductions, but through mutual appreciation, especially in the digital art space, where work travels fast but meaning takes root slowly.

That’s how I first came across an affable artist called Kolahon in early 2020s. An friend in our collector circle shared one of his pieces being auctioned online, and something in it resonated. I placed a bid. That was the start. Since then, I’ve been devoted in collecting his works for nearly three years, catching up with him whenever our paths crossed at events across Asia, gradually understanding both his works and himself. In early 2024, I asked him if he’d be open to creating a collaborative piece together—one that would live through Hitori.

"Wish You Were Here" early auction piece from my personal collection.

At that time, the Meguro GMT Pale Planet was still in its earliest phase, just sketches, prototypes, abstract thoughts. I mentioned casually to him that this one would be sportier. He nodded. But I didn’t say much more as he proceed crafting his art incessantly. Because when I work with artists like Kolahon, the approach is always the same: no rules, no templates, no brief. The entire watch is a canvas. I did the same with Yoshino’s Red Hoodie Edition. And I’ll do the same with future ones. The only boundary is integrity.

Though it was Kolahon’s first time designing for a watch, I had no doubt as he showed up with panache. He works in layers—each detail shaped by memory and experience, often influenced by his travels and objects he collects along the way. I had no idea what he’d create, but I trusted that it would be something true.

When he first shared his draft, I was unsurprisingly stunned. A surreal dreamscape filled with his signature motifs and personas, drawn from a recent trip to Bali—where, one evening, he found himself walking along the beach, watching the sun melt into the sea. (You can watch his full process here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1H90VGeEug)

This idiosyncratic collaboration became more than a project. It became a belief system materialized. A bold piece that somehow came together through Kolahon, through the Hitori team, and through our partners—each of whom gave their quiet support so we could build this timepiece around his work. We even chose an enamel dial base, just to elevate the texture and tactility of the art itself. It’s not a watch for everyone. And that’s the point. For many, this might be their first time seeing a functional GMT built with such intent toward artistic storytelling. But that’s what art does. It moves at its own pace. Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes it never finds a crowd. But it always finds the right ones.

This collaboration also reflects something deeper we’ve always believed in at Hitori: a creative-first, belief-driven mindset. Where making is not led by numbers or metrics, but by conviction. Where the process matters more than the outcome. Where integrity outweighs virality. It’s the idea that you put your heart into building something meaningful—and trust that the right people, the right appreciation, or the right moment will find it eventually. An artist who paints not for galleries, but for themselves. A watch brand who chooses depth over scale. Not everyone will understand it—but those who do, feel it completely.

And for me personally, this project became a quiet affirmation of why we do what we do. I’ve always held a deep respect for traditional culture, whether in the art space or horology, but also adamantly believe that what we create should stand apart, something that doesn’t blend in, but quietly holds its own. We’re not here to repeat what’s been done. We’re here to build something with soul. Something uncompromised. The truth is, the right people may take time to find you, or they may never come. But you make the thing anyway. And you make it honest.

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Origin Stories, No. 02