Bonsai is considered, even in Japan, as a pastime for the elderly. At times it is criticized by foreigners as an unnatural, artificial, and distasteful hobby involving the distortion of the natural shape of trees. In fact, even as a young boy, I too, avoided it as a Japanese taste for old-fashioned things and the worst example of depauperation and artificiality. However, after a certain period, I realized I was wrong and my appreciation changed entirely. Nowadays, although I cannot collect bonsai due to the difficulty in growing them, whenever I see one, I stop to enjoy it and meditate for a while.

What was the key to the complete turnabout and my sudden appreciation and sympathy for bonsai?

Everything said or written about bonsai so far has a common fault. It has only been discussed from the point of view of an onlooker who has not dabbled with bonsai himself. The same applies to the performing arts and fine art in Japan, too. They are very different from European culture in that there is no clear distinction between the creator and the viewer. Be it renga, haiku, yokyoku, tea ceremony, or ikebana, the audience also takes part in the creation. Even in kabuki, the hanamichi (flower way) and the sense of solidarity with the audience invites them to join in the action. In village plays and festive kagara, too, the villagers may be amateurs, but they can also perform.

My participation in bonsai was in the form of pruning. Every spring, at my country house at the foot of Mt. Fuji, an unusual  type of cherry shrub called fuji-zakura or kogome-zakura would come into bloom in vast numbers. I would get lost in creating a magnificent view by sorting out the surrounding plants and cutting some branches. Through that work I learnt a lot about nature.