I have always felt a deep fascination for the far south of Chile — not only for its landscapes, but for the silence, the light, and the sense of presence that exists there. There’s something in the southern air that feels ancient, as if every gust of wind carried voices from another time.
KEIKRUK means “Southern Sky.” It is a word that comes from the language of the Selk’nam people, who once inhabited Tierra del Fuego, at the end of the world. Their culture, their way of seeing the land, and their relationship with the sky left a lasting mark on me — not through direct experience, but through the pages of a book that changed the way I understood that part of the world.
Years ago, I came across Anne Chapman’s extraordinary work on the Selk’nam people. Her book was more than an ethnographic record; it was a bridge to a world that had almost disappeared yet still spoke with force and clarity. Through her words, I could almost feel the wind across the plains, the rhythm of the ceremonies, and the profound respect that the Selk’nam had for the earth and for life itself. What moved me most was how everything — the mountains, the stars, the fire, the silence — had meaning and connection. There was no separation between the human and the natural, between the visible and the spiritual.
When the idea of creating KEIKRUK began to take shape, I knew that it had to be more than a brand. It had to carry a story — a name that held both a memory and a direction. The Southern Sky represented exactly that: a point of origin, but also a horizon; something that belongs to the past but continues to guide the present.
For me, KEIKRUK is a way of recognizing that we are all part of a larger story — one that began long before us, among the people who learned to live in balance with the land, the cold, and the vastness of the skies. The Selk’nam understood something we often forget: that everything is connected, and that even the smallest gesture can be an act of reverence.
By naming this project KEIKRUK, I wanted to honor that connection. It’s not an attempt to recreate their world, but to remember it — to carry forward the respect, the humility, and the silence that the south inspires. Every piece we design carries that echo: the awareness that we are walking on a land that has stories to tell, and that our work can be a way to listen.
KEIKRUK, to me, is a reminder. A reminder that creation is not only about making things — it’s about listening to where they come from. It’s about understanding that inspiration doesn’t belong to us; it flows through us, from the sky, the wind, and the people who came before.
And so, when I say that KEIKRUK means “Southern Sky,” I think not only of the place, but of the idea — the way the light changes at dusk, the silence that follows the rain, the space that opens up inside when you stop and simply look upward. That is where our story begins: under the same southern sky that once guided others, and that continues to remind us who we are.
