Winter Redux

December 7th, 2005

I’m going to again close the year with another’s words, those of Isamu Tanaguchi. He was born in 1897 near Osaka, Japan and lived in the US during the era of Japanese internment camps. Since history repeats, his words seem very timely. They also reflect the theme of these newsletters - parallax.

Mr. Tanaguchi’s interest in gardening was developed as a youth under the supervision of his great uncle who gardened for a hobby. He immigrated to the United States at the age of 17, returning only once to Japan to bring back the bride his family had selected for him. The couple farmed in Stockton, California and later raised cotton and vegetables in the Rio Grande Valley until his retirement in 1967 when he moved to Austin where his sons had been educated at the University of Texas, and began work on the Oriental garden. The garden is his gift to the city of Austin. It is located in the Botanical Gardens in Zilker Park, and I hope you have a chance to visit. It is the one place in Austin that feeds my soul.

The Spirit of the Garden by Isamu Tanaguchi

In viewing a picture it may seem to express a deep maternal love or it may impress you as the stern expression of the paternal dignity. The perception results from an inner communion between the spirit of the observer and the spirit of the picture. In the same sense, even the common pebble on the path or the grass trodden upon by man or run over by a wheel, in its own individuality attempts to communicate with the heart of man. Therefore, if a man possesses a pure or sensitive heart, the pebbles in the grass can reveal their beauty to his eyes. When a man with such pure appreciation in his peaceful mind tries to compose with stones, grass, and water in order to create one unified beauty the formation is called a garden. In this context, the garden is the embodiment of the peaceful coexistence of all the elements of nature.

Throughout the evolutionary progress of mankind on this earth, we have experienced a struggle of existence in which we have lost the sensitivity of our humanity. Today we have reached a point of crisis in our existence,

brought about by inhumane competition as seen in the use of atomic radioactive weapons. Today we have lost the healing effect of the precious medicinal capsule which is our religious/spirtual teachings. It has been my wish that through the construction of this visible garden, I might provide a symbol of universal peace. By observing the genuine, peaceful nature of the garden, I believe that we should be able to knock on the door of our conscience.

It is my desire for the peace of mankind which has endowed this man of old age the physical health and stamina to pile stone upon stone without a day’s absence from the work for the last 18 months. It is my desire for the peace of mankind which encouraged me in my voluntary labor to complete this long dreamed of gift for the city of Austin, this Oriental garden. It may not be necessary to speak to the adults, but may I explain to those of the younger generation who might not as yet have learned from social experiences of today’s world about this spirit of the garden.

The Togetsu-kyo, or the bridge-to-walk-over-the-moon, personifies a poetic sensitivity of the ancient orient. When man walks across the bridge he is accompanied by the (reflection of the) moon on the surface of the water. In other words, when you step on the bridge and watch the serene beauty of the moon, that same celestial object reflects itself in the water in order to reveal the ultimate universal beauty. As you move, the moon follows, crossing over the water. Arriving at the other end of the bridge you will discover pure, clean water splashing from a bamboo pipe. In the orient, it symbolizes a gate at which you can wash your hands, soiled in worldly activities, and rinse your mouth which may have spoken ill of others, and cleanse your mind which may have devised evil. This symbolic purification will lead you to a deeper appreciation of the garden, the sumbol of peace. This is similar to the Christian observance of baptism, and here we see the Oriental philosophy which has a unity with that of the Westerner. The common implication here is that man does not exist long so far as he possesses a man’s face but a beast’s heart. By discarding the latter and obtaining his true humanity man may exist as long as mother earth allows his habitation.

As an Oriental, I have come through the turmoil of the racial problems of the United States in the last half century. Twenty-five years have passed since WWII and yet we see harsh realities such as the injuries caused by radioactivity which cannot be erased. Is now not the time that all mankind should in retrospect of our past be reborn from the beast’s nature? That yoke which has been our burden for several million years since the beginning of mankind in history. Is now not the time in which man may evolve from the beast nature toward the realm of true humanity? It is my wish that you have pleasant communion with the spirit of the garden.