The first time I ventured out to Mt Fuji Wood Culture Society, I had little idea of how such a short trip would impact me in such a big way. Following the advice of trusted teachers and peers, I knew it wasn’t something to be missed. The trip there was a challenge coming from Yokohama utilizing Japan’s excellent, albeit confusing, transit system when you are unaware of small details. Google will certainly set you up for failure if you don’t do further research. (For the uninitiated- trips that include a highway bus require an advance ticket.) I tried to contain my despair as the bus driver told me that I could not enter, with a kind- yet firm X motion of his hands. I thought that my chances were done and I knew at that moment that I was most certainly going to be late- one thing that I try my best to avoid. I checked with the society to ensure that it would be fine to show up mid-day, and found a back up plan. What was supposed to be a three hour journey had turned into five and I was less than pleased.
It was my first time ever riding a metro train into an actual mountain and the first sight I got of Fuji quite literally took my breath away. I felt a knot in my throat and the welling of tears in my ducts. I was overwhelmed by the power and majesty of nature in a way that I hadn’t felt with so much conviction since the first time I met the Ocean. I was not the only one who was obsessed with catching glimpses of Fuji san. I was most certainly in good company and everyone on the train was on the same mission. I had never been surrounded by so many who worshipped the very presence of natural phenomenon’s in the same way that I do.
This may seem cliche, but the scenery around Fujikawaguchiko is almost surreal- and yes like a scene out of Spirited Away there was a peace so quiet that it was almost loud in the way that it pervades the landscape. Mystical, majestic, and sacred. After a long transit, my best friend and life companion Azsa and I started the 20 minute ascent up the road to the MTFWCS. As we passed small well kept homes, spotless streets, and historic shrines, we were in awe. The seasonal persimmons hung from ropes on balconies to dry. The trees were unlike the ones I was used to and I immediately wanted to make friends with all of them- but we had a mission and we were already late.
As I made it to the top of the hill, my eyes were immediately drawn to a row of four structures all beautiful in their own right. The main house with guest house atop, the chair laboratory, the workshop, and the wood storage shed all gleamed in the sunlight of this perfect November day. Cladded in wood and preserved using the traditional technique Yakisugi. The care put into the space was evident. It was lunch time so we made our way down to the fire where everyone was gathered and were immediately greeted with introductions, smiles, and snacks! I felt at ease despite knowing very little Japanese. The one semester of study in Fall of ‘23 was failing me now. Not to mention, I’m not exactly the definition of a social butterfly- I connect through the doing, the work. Words tend to come later, as those who know me well have come to find out.
Soon after, we got to work and none of that seemed to matter. We had volunteered to join a forest day and we were to fell a tree as a group and then break it down and mill it into a timber. I have cut many a timber at this point in my career, but had never been a part of this process. My excitement was palpable. Fuji san stood in the background looking down on all of us as if she were pleased and we were doing the work that needed to be done. I was happy to be lending my hands, and grateful to be in the woods with kindred spirits. They kept telling us how lucky we were to see it on such a clear day, and I knew it was true. She wanted to be seen and I was so thankful. After almost 6 months of traveling and 4 months in the cities of both Thailand and Japan- it was LONG overdue. Holding the lead with five others we waited as one person cut with the chainsaw- we pulled together in unison guiding the tree to the forest floor as if to put it to sleep after a long life’s work. Its work would not end there as we would help usher it into its new life as a timber.
We worked diligently to process the tree and another one. We stopped at various times to make conversation and get to know one another a little better. The work ebbed and flowed and spirits were high, each one of us finding a role and exchanging roles with another as needed. It was finally time for the milling. Tak Yoshino, master woodworker and furniture maker, demonstrated how to operate the wood miser and then I got to try it out myself. I took my pass and was amazed at the ease with which the machine worked. I decided then and there that I could retire now and spend the rest of my days in the mountains caring for the forest and making use of the resources she so kindly provides to us.
We finished milling the timber, and stood for a group photo- proud of the work done. To conclude the day we gathered around the fire to commune and drink coffee (or tea) and cake made by Tak san’s lovely partner Junko Yoshino. It was a treat indeed. Each one of us took turns talking about our experience for the day and shared what was on our hearts. While most of the specific words were lost on me the energy was understood and needed no translation.
The day was an absolute dream, but I had severely underestimated the trip and the toll the day would have on me. We were prepared to look for accommodation in town, but they were kind enough to offer a room in their guest house for a very modest fee. Which I was and am eternally grateful for. It just so happened to be the week on the Mt. Fuji International Marathon and as you could imagine, Fujikawaguchiko was pretty booked and it would be a dark trek down the hill. Planning is so essential- and I certainly failed in that department, but the hospitality was unparalleled.
The next morning, I received the official tour of the workshop and the chair laboratory from Tak Yoshino and I was grateful he took the time to share with me in detail the work that he does and the work of his students. He spoke about building chairs that fit ones body, and the connection between posture and mental clarity. After a quick glance he knew immediately which chair would fit me best. As I sat, it held me in a way that I wasn’t aware that wood could hold you. His chairs are works of fine art and the amount of time and patience it took to reach that level of competency, my brain could hardly fathom. I am proud of my career thus far, but I couldn’t help but leave feeling like I knew very little about true dedication. I realized I hadn’t even reached a fraction of my own potential. It was at this moment, that I knew I would be back and that I MUST do an artist residency. As much as I wanted to will it to be, it wasn’t in the cards this time around as other commitments have already been made. When the time is right, I am willing and ready to absorb anything he might care to show me. In the meantime I will continue to do the work, be present, and unfold outside of myself until I reach my final form.
Those who know, know.
To be continued.
-Amber Alyn
DRIFTWOOD ALCHEMY 
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