Since ancient times, the Japanese have believed that a life force resides in all creations.

Valuing and caring for the things we use, a "Zero Waste Life."

Pointing the way to better living for a new era.

It once told time, but was broken.
It can live again with a new purpose.

Tosu, Saga Prefecture.

A tranquil town on the southwestern island of Kyushu.

Here, we find a shop that's been selling and repairing timepieces for over 40 years.

2nd-generation Ito Naofumi is the resident watchmaker.

He takes in broken watches and clocks of all ages,

finds what's wrong with them, and repairs them with care.

Yes, this one is running.

It's a sort of stethoscope for watches.

Listening to the sound tells you
if it's working properly or not.

This sound isn't good.

This is good.

This is good.
On the bad one, the pitch is too high.

It somehow feels like a living thing
with a heartbeat, just like a human.

In addition to his work as a watchmaker, he also has a more artistic side.

Amazing!

Objects made from discarded parts he calls "Tick-Tock Art."

Cute! It really looks alive!

Isn't this amazing?

This is a cat, right? It's so calming.

This is a cat, right? It's so calming.
I feel like it's looking right at me.

A closer look and you can see a variety of scrap from watches both old and new,

skillfully incorporated into Ito's work.

Pieces sell from around 400 to 2,000 US dollars.

Watches shouldn't go to waste.

It's a waste to throw them away,

a waste to not show the beauty
of the components they're made from.

The works inside that were hidden
can be in the spotlight.

So, in a sense they're still ticking.

He says the true beauty of watches is only seen by the watchmaker.

This is just some of the scrap parts.

Things like this.

Here, there's nothing decorative.

Every hole, each element has a purpose.

Functional beauty, or perhaps its
unity of form makes it beautiful.

Like the way this piece is cut out,
it was done this way for a reason.

This one will surely be beautiful inside.
See what I mean?

This mechanism was not meant
to be seen, but hidden under its cover.

Tick-tock Art was born eight years earlier.

At the time Ito and his father, who co-managed the store, faced a major problem.

A steady decline in walk-in customers.

It was clear that the repair business
alone wouldn't bring in customers.

I tried to think of something
only we could do to give people

a reason to choose our shop.

It was at this moment that the junk watch parts caught his eye.

Just a single gear that's survived
over time is interesting on its own.

This made me wonder if I could
transform that into a work of art.

His first work was a mouse about the size of a thumb.

It's abstract so not everyone sees it.

It looks like something, but not that.
Is it a mouse, a cat, or maybe a rabbit?

That made me try for greater realism.

From then on, he really threw himself into the project,

gradually including a greater variety from his collection of parts.

He began making ever more realistic creations, to the delight and surprise of everyone.

As his Tick-Tock Art earned greater fame, they also got a lot of media coverage.

This meant more customers coming to their shop, and sales began to improve.

Ito began receiving broken watches from all over Japan.

Having served their function,

their owners hoped they could be reborn as Tick-Tock Art.

A picture book of Tick-Tock Art was even published,

by picture book author Sonoki Masa.

Something Ito said really impressed me.

He wants his creations to continue
marking the passage of time.

What an amazing idea!

Taking valueless scrap, giving it form,
giving it meaning, giving it a soul.

It's a way of creating new value,
but his work is also just really cool.

Today, Ito's working on something for the first time in months.

His new creation: a deer.

He first breaks down the watches.

I'll just snap it out.

Guided by inspiration even the smallest of parts are transformed,

and they become pieces of a new, living thing.

This is a coil of copper wire.

This is a coil of copper wire.
It has a texture like muscle.

Using it gives a strong sense
of animal physicality.

These parts are also favored by Ito.

These are watch stem crowns.
They're used to wind the watch.

But I use them as eyes.

He shapes the body with pieces of mainspring from a mechanical watch.

Yes, the hindquarters are here.

And here is the torso, then the legs.

It's the belly.

He carefully arranges and rearranges, again and again, as the final work takes shape.

Phew. From here will be the belly,
the neck, and the front and back legs.

It's a very stable, reassuring form.

"I guess you're the only one who sees it."

Maybe so. But with this done
it's very clear to me.

With the skeleton complete, he painstakingly applies the parts that will form the body.

And the torso of the deer that he envisioned gradually takes shape.

Now, it's time to make the head.

The crown that forms the eye is enhanced with a decorative ruby.

It's taken nearly 70 hours to complete.

First to see every piece is his daughter, Miu.

- Hi there!
- Done at school?

Yeah.
You made something new?

- Want to see it?
- Yes!

Ta-da!

- What's it look like?
- A deer!

- Right! You can see it?
- Yes, it's easy to see.

It's really good. And a curly tail, too.

- Yeah, that's on purpose.
- Just for fun?

- Yeah.
- I just love it!

- It's wonderful.
- It is pretty good.

Beautiful.

It still has a use; it still has value.

I want my work to show this.

Especially if it encourages children.

If kids who like to make things can
see waste material as a resource,

then that would be truly wonderful.