The Art of Moving in Circles

Shot by: Nelson McMahon

Uzumaki Cepeda doesn't move through time the same way most of us do; she spirals within it like a vibrant whirlwind. Her journey isn't linear but a mesmerizing dance that twists and turns, drawing intricate patterns with every step. Each moment folds back on itself, layering experience in spirals that overlap and repeat, painting a vivid tapestry of becoming.

The spiral, for Cepeda, isn’t just a metaphor, it’s in her name. Uzumaki means whirlpool, spiral, or swirl in Japanese, a fitting marker for an artist whose sense of time bends and loops; and, perhaps why she's drawn to Arc, JBW's timepiece with its double-wrapped bracelet that circles the wrist twice, embodying the return and repetition central to her philosophy. The spiral is the governing force, the invisible gyre dictating the tempo and logic of her hours. “My name is Uzumaki, so by nature, time feels like a spiral to me,” she says. “Everything spirals in my world, especially energy. It can spiral upward or downward, but it’s always in motion, always shifting.” Her world resists straight lines and clean timelines. Instead, time becomes rhythm, memory, a cycle that returns again and again with new meaning. Looking at Cepeda’s work, it’s clear her world is actively reshaped by thought, desire, and experience. She doesn’t build from blueprints, but through a logic of accretion: one piece leading naturally to the next until a room becomes a saturated playground of color, memory, and tactile excess.

Uzumaki is wearing Arc Double in Gold ($645), Arc Double Essential in Gold ($450), and Arc Double Essential in Two-Tone ($450).

For Cepeda, who was born in the Bronx and now resides in Los Angeles, this sense of motion guides every part of her work. As a contemporary textile artist, she builds immersive, fur-lined installations that double as sanctuaries, for herself, for her community, for her younger self. Time is central to that work, but not in the traditional sense of ticking clocks or calendar deadlines. “Deadlines, seasons, even the natural flow of creativity, they all give shape to that spiral,” she explains. “They help me stay grounded while I move through different phases. Even when things feel chaotic, those limits actually guide me to show up as my best self.”

That tension, between fluidity and structure, softness and responsibility, sits at the heart of Right on Time, a new visual campaign from JBW. In the work, a fur blanket from Uzumaki’s childhood reappears, this time in the arms of her adult self, who holds it close like a living memory. “That moment is really personal to me,” she says. “A fur blanket was actually the first fur item I ever had that made me feel safe, warm, and loved. It wasn’t just about texture, it was about comfort and protection.” By embracing her younger self, she is extending an offering of what was once elusive: a cocoon of safety, a touch of gentleness, and a nurturing presence.

Cepeda believes that art could do more than decorate a wall or fill a gallery. For her, art braided time, drawing the past through the present with gentle force. “My art helps me heal the past by revisiting it with more softness,” she continues. “It’s like I’m able to rest a better memory over the old one. My younger self lives in everything I make, but now through the eyes of someone who’s survived, grown, and is still learning.” The installations, furred walls, domes, and vivid textiles, are not just imaginative sanctuaries but deliberate interventions in her own timeline, spaces designed to overwrite what was cold or jagged with something softer, safer. The past is never far in Cepeda's work, but it's not something to escape. It's something to rewrite, reimagine, and slowly soften.

Uzumaki is wearing Arc Double in Gold ($645) and Arc Double Essential in Gold ($450).

This isn’t nostalgia for its own sake. It’s more like tending to a garden that was planted long ago. “The feeling I keep returning to is safety,” she says. “That sense of being held: emotionally or physically, by people, by a space, by memory. Even when things are changing or life is moving fast, I find myself always searching for or creating that feeling of being safe and grounded. It’s something I crave in my work, in my relationships, and in the way I take care of myself.”

Time, in this context, isn’t a pressure. It’s not harsh or punishing. It can be something much gentler. “Yeah, I do think time can be soft… if you allow it to be,” she says. “A lot of us grow up thinking time is strict or harsh, always running out or rushing us. But I’ve learned that if you slow down, shift your mindset, and move with more intention, time can actually feel gentle. It can hold you instead of push you. It’s really about how we choose to experience it.”

That philosophy carries into how she shares her work publicly. Uzumaki’s social media presence is refreshingly raw, filled with works in progress, moments in the studio, glimpses of her process before the polish. She’s not afraid to show the middle, the mess, the not-yet-finished. “I usually know it’s ready when I start to feel that little nudge from my community, whether it’s people checking in, asking questions, or just sending love,” she says. “That feedback reminds me that my work lives beyond me.”

It wasn’t always easy to be this open. “Opening up unfinished moments used to feel scary, but now it feels honest,” she admits. “It’s a way to let people in, not just into the work, but into the process, the vulnerability, the questions. I think there’s beauty in showing people the middle, not just the end.” Community response, especially in real time, has helped her learn when to let go. “I can be really hard on myself,” she says. “I tend to overwork things, always thinking it needs one more tweak or layer. So hearing from people while something is still in progress helps me pause, breathe, and sometimes realize that what I have is already enough.”

When asked if she believes in divine timing or intentional timing, she doesn’t hesitate. “I honestly believe in both. Prayer and action go hand in hand,” she says. “Sometimes the timing feels out of our control and that’s when faith steps in. But I also believe we play a big part in showing up and creating the space for things to unfold. It’s a balance between surrender and intention.”

There are moments she wishes she could revisit, not to change, but to witness again with new eyes. One that stands out is her installation at MoCADA in Brooklyn, a space that merged living room and garden, Dominican Republic and the Bronx, private memory and public offering. “I think it was one of my biggest and most honest pieces of work,” she reflects. “At the time, I was still learning how to hold space for myself and others, and now looking back, I see so much more I could appreciate and even expand on.”

Uzumaki is wearing Arc Single in Gold ($495).

With Right on Time, she brings that same spirit forward, honoring the past not as a wound, but as a well. A source of softness. A space to return to and build from.

“I hope it brings people back to their childhood for a moment,” she says. “To a memory, a smell, a color, a feeling they forgot they still carried. I want them to remember that their inner child is still there, still needing care, still full of creativity and softness. We don’t grow out of needing love, we just learn how to give it to ourselves in new ways.”

More than anything, she wants the work to serve as a reminder that the timeline you’re on is your own, and that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. “Time doesn’t erase who we were,” she says. “It gives us a chance to return and nourish that part of ourselves with more grace. You’re not behind. Time can be soft. And the child within you is still here, waiting to be embraced.”

Explore Arc