Bonsai!!!

"Close your eyes, concentrate, think only *tree*. Make a perfect picture, down to the last pine needle. Wipe your mind clean of everything but the tree; nothing exists in the whole world, only the tree. Open your eyes, remember the picture? Make your tree like the picture."

These were the inspiring words, the first Bonsai lesson, of Mr. Miyagi to his new friend and student, the one and only Karate Kid. My eight-year-old self was mystified by this lesson when I first saw the iconic movie which dealt with so much more than just martial arts and Bonsai.

The charismatic teacher gives humble gems of Zen like wisdom in a way that teaches us how to form an inner vision and manifest it through our diligent efforts and perseverance. You can imagine he instantly got me hooked on this traditional Japanese craft combining horticulture and art.

My childhood was filled with creating models, miniature figures, dioramas, sculptures, puppets, and.... plants. My Ma, a prolific artist and gardener, taught me everything she knew from when I was little; she gave me a genuine inspiration to create and grow.

My obsession with bonsai was official. When I was nine the second Karate Kid movie came out, I couldn't stop drawing miniature trees in pretty pots. The next year was the third and final movie, the same year that my father died. Mr. Miyagi's lessons of strength, perseverance, fortitude, contrasted by his softness in allowing for grief, forgiveness, compassion, were all in perfect timing with my process of letting go.

As my newest favorite hobby, Bonsai eventually taught me how to thrive and be beautiful and vigorous all within the constraints of the stress and pressure of life and modern society. This is the premise of these little trees in their elegant little containers; just like an ancient pine growing in the cracks on a cliff, or a mighty oak nibbled by deer every day, never growing more than a few feet tall in 100 years, Bonsai grow splendidly for us despite their confined root system and continual clipping of their shoots. It's the ultimate paradox for a plant to undergo such riggors yet still look gorgeous, brimming with health and vitality. The same is true for us...life is full of challenges, how can we rise above them and thrive? This is the pattern, the archetype that I've learned to apply to life thanks to my experience with giving such meticulous love and care to these little plants.

In Japanese 'Bonsai' means 'tray cultivation', or to cultivate something in a pretty container. The nuances of the word imply a creative artistic approach, a high level of attention to detail and to the traditional elements of style and design. I can imagine that the early nomadic people, learning to take their most important medicinal/edible plants with them as they traveresed vast landscapes before settling in a new place, were not concerned with style and design. In order to cary many plants long distances its important to be able to keep them small and healthy while traveling; welcome the first dwarfed plants. It's fun to think about how generations later, when we were able to settle down and inhabit one area with longevity, people had leisure time to start making those miniture medicinal plants attractive and whimsical. Could this be how Bonsai was born?

While Japan and China are famous for making this artform popular, I wonder if my own ancestors, rugged earthy people from the Carpthian mountians, carried their own mini versions of important plants with them as they explored. I always felt them deep in my soul, it seemed a natural and familar practice to me when I first got started with this path.

Of course my Ma was pleased and excited to see me so interested in something so... interesting. I got my first Bonsai kit as a gift from Mom's friend when I was 12. Thereafter any allowance money that I was able to accumulate went directly to plants and pots; I was lucky that there happened to be a great Bonsai nursery nearby as even today it's a pretty rare find. When I got my first job at 16 you can be sure that my collection was becoming significant and I was well on my way to having my own nursery. All of the baby trees I had accumulated throughout high school came with me to college... yes I was that guy with the dorm room full of unique plants. The collection grew exponentially when I moved into my first house off campus with some friends. It's at that time that they started calling me Bonsai, or sometimes more endearingly just "B". 20 years later the name still endures.

When I moved from New York to Colorado a couple years after college my wee tree collection took 4 trips with a truck to bring them all to my new home. When I moved from Colorado to Oregon three years later I decided to be smart and just rent a massive truck for my small amount of belongings but formidable menagerie of interesting little plant friends.

Needless to say I am joyously in over my head now with hundreds of Bonsai in my little backyard nursery. After over 30 years of practicing this botanical art I would say that I'm finally just starting to understand it. What a humbling journey it's been, learning the nuance of each species of tree, how it likes to be regarded and how it's different from it's neighbor who might like to be pruned in the autumn when it's leaves are ablaze with a coat of fall foliage, reds, yellows, and oranges as a harbinger of a welcomed winter dormancy, rather than cut back in the spring when it's emerald buds are starting to swell.

New trees are being started here in the nursery every day, they patiently sit next to their elders, trees that I started in the past 5, 10, 15 years, and nearby to the oldest of the group who were started 26 years ago. The joy of seeing a seedling of maple, hawthorne, crabapple, or beech, grow up to become a delicate yet stately art piece over two decades and 3 states, is indescribable. There's nothing else that I've collected and perfected over the years besides maybe skills and memories.

They say it takes 5 to 10 years to make a legitimate Bonsai, even longer for it to be worthy of showing in an exhibition. I've found that around 15 years is plenty of time to create some thing that I could consider finished. But can these really ever be "finished"? After all it's art that is growing, ever expanding. After that 15 year gestation a Bonsai reaches its pinacle of majesty and refinement. Then it starts to outgrow its profile, its shape. Like a reptile shedding it's skin periodically, when this time comes we have to completely restyle our trees, cutting them way back into older tissue in order to bring about their next and next iteration. Seeing a tree reach a stage of completion after so long, then repeating the process again every few years is a joy to look forward to again and again for the rest of our lives.

These days however my greatest pleasure from Bonsai comes from teaching. Kids and adults alike come to me with the same questions I had so long ago, they seem like such simple topics now though I can remember how complex they seemed at the time. Its fun to talk about endearing concepts like the creation of negative space on the interior of the tree, or as we call it "making space for the birds to fly through". To see the wonderous look on someone's face when I sparkle my fingers towards the tree like a tiny flock of flying birds, each one no bigger than a pea, and they grasp that idea of pruning to create form, it's one of the best things in my life!

Bonsai has been a gift for my own life, providing inspiration, patience, stillness, contentment, and of course the opportunity to create beauty. Keeping our pruning scissors sharp is like keeping up our emotional fortitude, keeping our senses keen and sharp. With so much metaphor and meaning in this art and in our lives, its my continual quest to help people to make space for their birds to fly through.