I'm not a fan of Bonsai. Something about the interference, the constant pruning of branches and roots, the wiring, its all such an unnatural contrivance. This art of restriction, beautiful though it is, goes against the grain. If not for my friend, I would never have gone in to look at the Bonsais in the conservatory at The Brookln Botanic Garden today but thats where I found myself after our hearty lunch (the chili is wickedly good) at the cafe downstairs.
Outside, spring is already fairly popping. There is already an imminent sense of mass - many, many swollen buds and a sense of urgency and haste - quite a few early starters out of the gate already exploding in bloom. Whatever is going on outside however, is ignored inside the Bonsai room, where the pace is different, almost stately.
I contemplate the graceful unfurling of brightly colored acer leaves, the poetic curve of a branch laden with buds staged against the spareness of a blank wall. I am struck by the contrast of aged wood and bark against the lime colored freshness of new leaf.
I feel almost as if I have been invited to a private view of spring - uncluttered, unhurried and in detail. I totally had a zen moment, which I guess is the point of Bonsai. I might have to come back here in the fall.
