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“Time is my only collaborator: confessions of a watchmaker”.

• My father's pocket watch, my first universe
  When I was twelve, I stole my father's 1898 Breguet pocket watch from his drawer. When I disassembled it in the attic with a magnifying glass, the gears were scattered like stars on the oak floor. When my father found out, he didn't scold, he just pointed to the escapement wheel and said, “See, that's the knee of time - every time it flexes, it makes eternity take a half-step forward.”
  
  The hairspring on that pocket watch broke, and we spent the whole summer fixing it. My father taught me how to rub the edges of the brass gears with a chamois leather: “Too sharp will wear down the hairspring, too round and smooth will lose its power; watchmaking, like being a human being, is about finding the balance between rigidity and flexibility.” Thirty years later, when MINBER's first movement passed the -40℃ extreme cold test, I suddenly remembered the smell of motor oil on my father's hands that afternoon - it turned out that I had spent my whole life reproducing the mechanical starry sky in the attic of my childhood.
• Time never passes, it is we who pass.
  But at least, we can choose how we want to pass through time.