wabi sabi

In the realm of space, your life is nothing but the lively energy of life, interconnecting with everything.
–Dainin Katagiri

Every so often, I spread the pieces of my childhood tea set on my bed. It’s in pitiful shape—broken, glued, re-broken, re-glued. I love that I played so hard with these tiny, clumsy cups and plates. I almost remember my gracious, chubby fingers pouring imaginary tea as I brushed wisps of long, brown hair out of my eyes. I can almost see myself breaking piece after piece in my basement playroom.

No one in my family drank tea, so I must have created my own imaginary tea stories. I don’t recall my solo tea parties, yet when I lay my hands on the shards, I access the lively energy of life that children incarnate. This cherished energy still resides deep inside me. Light, open, and expansive, this part of me responds to people who are patient and curious. Sometimes I forget the connections that defy time and geography, but the energy of this homely wabi-sabi children’s tea set transcends place, space, and culture. Through it, I recall that it was a gift from Grandma Rose Mary. She couldn’t have known that tea would become my language and my passion. In this sense, her gift of imaginary tea was prophetic. Grandma’s gift allowed me to create my first tea rituals and to explore what it might mean to share tea with others. My tea rituals have evolved, but I embrace the awkwardness of human connection as it plays out over shared tea moments.

In the realm of space, my life is nothing but the lively energy of life, interconnecting with everything.

“Space is the breath of art.”
–Frank Lloyd Wright

Sometimes big cities suffocate me. It seems that every inch of space is occupied by buildings, kiosks, and concrete. I often find myself needing more green and more sky.

My recent trip to New York was bitterly cold, and the wind was brutal. Venturing out was a process and a challenge, but my walks were freeing—the icy wind invigorating, the snowflakes dreamy. Ice and snow dotted grey-green Central Park. I easily weaved my way through the crowds on 5^th avenue, stumbled into a toasty bookstore when my toes were too cold, and late one afternoon, found a French bistro serving soupe au pistou.

The constant chill of those days froze my senseless, minor worries, and the wind then blew them away. Amongst and between the traffic and skyscrapers, I reclaimed my inner spaciousness. New York gave breath to an elegant artfulness that refreshed and reset my own desire to create. I bring home color, texture, light, and sky.

Inspirations

Afternoon Tea in Astor Court

Pablo Picasso’s Bird on a Tree at the Guggenheim

Odilon Redon’s Pandora at the Met

Mozart and Tchaikovsky at Lincoln Center

Tiny Tea Set, Lively Energy of Life

Light and Sky