Last year I spent an afternoon viewing Bonsai with the old men who make up most of the practitioners of this most exacting art. This week, I switched sexes and spent my time viewing Ikebana with the older women who practice this most fragrant one at an exhibition. The selections were amazing - each one so painstakingly constructed; each vessel so different.
For someone like me who has not a green thumb, but rather the black thumb of death when it comes to anything growing, to even be interested in the art of Ikebana is a truly bizarre concept. Introduced by my friend Darla, I have grown to love not just viewing but creating as well. Every other Friday we gather with our Sensei and with our chosen selection of flowers, set about to create something beautiful.
The difference is obvious, but I have really learned to enjoy the process of creating an arrangement. I have started a collection of vases and after seeing the exhibit the other day, fear an obsession coming on. A longer list will accompany me on my flea market outings from now on, although I fear I will have to fight Celine over a particularly unusual find. (thanks to her for the photos of the exhibit- she was the one with the camera and she so generously shared them with me).
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