Find Your Flower: An Ikebana Afternoon in Kyoto
A quick reminder to always say Yes, check your expectations at the door, and allow yourself to (gasp) have a little fun.
Last spring my boss (quite unexpectedly) pulled me aside and asked if I wanted to go work in Japan. I said nothing. ‘Just for a few months’, he quickly added. Surprised, flattered, and fairly certain it wasn’t some backhanded ploy to get me out of the office, I said Yes, absolutely, of course.
I had no idea what to expect. I’ve never lived or worked in a foreign country. But three short weeks later there I was, watching The Martian on a nonstop flight from Brooklyn to Tokyo. (To be sure, there are no airports in Brooklyn but that’s absolutely beside the point.)
My days in Japan were spent straddling two worlds.
On one hand, I was there to work. And at the office everything felt familiar. I used the same version of Photoshop to design the same kind of websites. I still spent too much time in meetings and still forgot to fill out my timesheets. I made a half-assed effort to learn Japanese but it didn’t matter, English was the official language of the office.
On the other hand, once I stepped out of the front door, Tokyo! And, I was quick to find, Tokyo is not quite New York. Instead of bagels on every corner there’s fish that hasn’t been cooked. Instead of trash on the street there’s not trash. There’s also no yelling, screaming, or stepping out of line (literally and figuratively). And, of course, faxing is still a thing, karaoke is a religion, smoking is a must, and there are no subway rats.
But what stood out the most was how much I stood out. I never expected to fit in, but I didn’t fully appreciate just how Japanese Tokyo would be (especially coming from a city as diverse as New York). It was clear from the first day I would always be a gaijin. A foreigner. An outsider.
In neither of these two worlds did I feel like I was getting the ‘authentic’ Japanese experience I had expected. So when I took a week off to travel the country I thought maybe this would be my chance. I’ll save you the travelogue, but one day is worth sharing.
While in Kyoto, the ancient capital city of Japan, I had the unique pleasure of spending an afternoon learning ikebana with resident expert Kimiko Yamamoto. I set up the session through VAWAA (Vacation With An Artist), a service that provides vacation experiences with artists around the world.
My expectations for the session were admittedly low. I had no particular connection with ikebana (the Japanese art of flower arranging), but thought, hey, why not, I am in Japan after all. My mother, who had flown out for a visit, joined me for the session.
The tone of the day was set from the start. Kimiko met us with outstretched arms and a smile unbound by the confines of her cheeks. She radiated a warmth I hadn’t previously been afforded by a Japanese I had just met. As a foreigner I had always been kept at arm’s length. Kimiko said Fuck that. (To be clear, Kimiko did not say Fuck that.)
She brought us first to what I have to imagine is the preeminent ikebana shop in the world (I have zero facts to back that up). After we were sufficiently awed she walked us through Kyoto’s famous Nishiki Market and gave us welcome guidance as we picked out our flowers. Finally she brought us back to her studio–her beautiful, peaceful, serene studio. Then we got down to business.
I learned a lot about ikebana. Like, for starters, that it’s about a lot more than pretty flowers. There’s also the vase. The scissors. The kenzen pin holder. But more importantly there’s the intangibles. The rich history. The ever-evolving style. The shape. The flow. The feeling. Ikebana is an art form in the purest sense of the word and Kimiko knows and loves every inch (millimeter) of it. And with over 13 years of experience, Kimiko’s creations rival anything you thought could be done with a few simple plants.
My mother and I were good students but really bad at ikebana. Kimiko was patient as we fumbled with our arrangements. She was supportive and kind and assured us we were doing great. She smiled as we butchered everything she holds dear. And then it was over as quickly as it had started.
Kimiko’s enthusiasm for ikebana was downright contagious. Her passion was authentic. It was almost transcendent watching her work–sitting quietly in her studio in the heart of the cultural capital of a country halfway around the globe. Watching her concentration. Her drive. It was a simple, inspiring, reminder that we are all the same. When we find something we love that’s all that matters.
I signed up for the session thinking it would satiate my need to have a true ‘Japanese’ experience. And maybe it did. But that wasn’t what I took away. I walked out of her studio newly invigorated. Thankful I gave the session a chance, ashamed I didn’t think I’d get anything out of it, and ready to be as passionate for something as Kimiko was about ikebana.
What else did I learn? Let’s put it in a bulleted list. Fuck it, a numbered list.
- Passion is universal. Ikebana might be Japanese, but passion most certainly is not. And passion is a beautiful, unifying force.
- Say yes. Always. Variety really is the spice of life. Do things. Stay curious. Just say yes–even (especially) if you’re a curmudgeon. You might just surprise yourself. The worst that can happen is you come out a little worse for the wear. The best? Well that’s entirely up to you.
- Leave your expectations at the door. Unless you want them to ruin everything. And last, but certainly not least,
- Leave ikebana to the experts. Or don’t. Try it for yourself. That’s the whole point.
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Sign up for your own VAWAA session with Kimiko.
Disclaimer: VAWAA was started by a good friend and coworker of mine and prides itself in completely immersing you in a local craft and culture. Its model requires full, multiple day sessions. I cheated. I only had a day to spare. They let me get away with it but weren’t happy about it. Do not expect the same treatment.
