DRIFTWOOD ALCHEMY

Tag: mount-fuji

  • My Time at Mt. Fuji Wood Culture Society, Part 2

    My Time at Mt. Fuji Wood Culture Society, Part 2

    A little less than a month had passed since my first visit to MTFWCS and I found myself on the train back to the mountain.  I also planned to stay in advance because I like to learn from my mistakes.. (Most of the time). This time it would be for a whole weekend, while two workshops were held simultaneously. One of the workshops included learning a traditional roof hatching method. I would later learn how to harvest and process the straw as well. The other workshop included working on cutting and preparing timbers for the onsite Forge. We had the option to go back and forth between the two or stick to one. 

    I chose the latter of the two to begin with. It had been a shameful amount of time since I had picked up a chisel. Between my travels and being a full-time Architecture student, I had not-so-secretly started to wonder what my priorities were anymore and if I even still loved the craft if I failed to practice consistently. This question persists-even though my mission is more clear than ever. It will be no time in the grand scheme of things until I am back at it doing exclusively design-build work. For so long my worth has been tied to my productivity, and that is at least in part what I am trying to detangle myself from as I journey around the world. For now- I’ve left my boots in Virginia, and my precious tools are spread between a 5×5 storage unit and amongst friends. In favor of traveling light, the only tools I carry are a few used for whittling- and I am most certainly not proficient at carving (yet.) 

    I watched and listened diligently as Tak san explained to me what we would be doing and the process of making an end cut on a timber. A process I had completed countless times before, but I was and am always open to new ways or approaches. I complete the cut and he seems at least slightly impressed at how clean the cut was. He asks me if I have done this before- to which I reply “a little bit.” I feel that there is no need to mention, I used to do it full-time. That seems like a lifetime ago and worlds apart from the here and now.  I do another cut, and then move onto chisel work. I am used to large bulky western chisels, countless hours chiseling away and communing with my selves. While I do own several Japanese style chisels, they have done significantly less work and are bigger than a millimeter or two. I am happy to be here, this is my dream- to timber frame or more specifically to work with wood in Japan. I said I would do it and I am- if only for a short time. However, I am preoccupied by how clumsy my hands feel and the chisel feels light and fragile in my large hands.

     It is also cold- mountain cold outside. Nothing like the snowglobe in Southern Maryland that I used to work in. It was there that I found joy for the first time as an adult with chronic joint pain, playing (working) outdoors in the winter snow. The joy of working in a structure that you build with your own hands is unmatched. A feeling I am all too eager to replicate again as it seems like one of the most natural things a builder can do. I felt the emotion start to swell in my throat and I found myself suddenly mourning a past life in the midst of people I had only just met in a place that was foreign to me. I realised it was not that space that I was mourning, but that feeling. A feeling of purpose, and being connected to a goal that was larger than me, shaping my everyday surroundings with my hands and will  I felt stuck inside myself, and as much as I wanted to dig deeper and learn about the people around me- I was wedged between my own rapid thoughts. Ruminating. Wondering what I am even doing with life, what is the end goal- why am I here? I did my best to work through it while focusing on my task- enjoying the banter around me, yet understanding little. It felt like maybe it was understood that I needed to keep to myself, or perhaps everyone was just focused on what they were doing as well, and no one cared that I was mute. I was thankful. I felt that any moment I could burst into tears. Then how could I explain myself? Luckily no one asked me to. 

    Towards the end of the day I stepped away to take a break and gather myself back together.  Azsa and a new friend Kiden from Singapore appeared and asked if I wanted to go get a warm beverage and watch the sunset over Lake Shoji. The timing was divine and I thought that that sounded wonderful and if I was being honest with myself- I was tired. I decided to listen to my heart and body and took the journey. As I sat in the back seat and watched the scenery pass me by, I continued to think about my path and what had led me to this moment in time, and to this place. I saw many pieces weaving together to create the unique tapestry that is my life right now. Some pieces are prettier than others, some planned, some not so much. Kiden told us about the scenery around us- we passed the Aokigahara Forest; a famous forest in Japan that has become known as the suicide forest. I thought about how lucky I am to still be here, and all the times I thought that I wouldn’t make it. I rubbed my semi colon tattoo in appreciation for the first time in a long time and said a small prayer for those who are no longer with me. She told us about the Ice cave that has ice nearly all year around, and I marveled at the amount of  wonders in the world I had yet to see. I vowed to keep exploring, keep witnessing the beauty of the world as long as I had eyes to see and feet to walk. 

    We made it to the lake just in time to settle in and watch the ducks do their diving dances. I witnessed the best view of Fuji san I had seen yet. As the sun started to set more and more people started to pull up to the shore and set up their camera gear. Lake Shoji is a famous place to watch the sunset for obvious reasons. The winter colors go from orange, to pink, to purple- and when the wind is still you get to see an almost perfect mirror reflection on Fuji in the lake. We stood there in silence observing her in all her beauty, reflecting her magnificence in all directions. It was so silent, all you could hear was the light clicking of cameras and deep breathing. As I watched her reflection dance on the lake, I saw myself reflected back at me, and for the first time I could not tell the difference between her and I. I was reminded of my power, and how magnificent I am no matter how much I may try to cower away from my destiny. The wind started to pick back up and when it was too cold to bear anymore we made our departure back to MTFWCS. 

    We had a wonderful meal of hotpot, and drank delicious locally crafted Sake with our new friends. I drank way more than I usually do- which is not at all, or once in a very blue moon. There was laughter and stories, and I talked about my career as a carpenter and how I ended up back in school in my mid 30’s. I was met with fascination and more inquiry which was refreshing. We talked about what it took to make soba, and how a new friend Togo-san’s  grandfather is a soba master. I thought about what it would be like to master one thing in life, and if I ever would. I walked away with a new perspective on dedication and the meaning of friendship. Looking back on those moments now, I think of the saying by Confucius, who said: “Is it not delightful to have friends coming from afar?” Some friends are for moments, others for lifetime, but the best ones lead us to our own virtue. 

    The next day we headed out as a group to an area near the base of Fuji-san in order to harvest the straw for the thatched roof. I was told it was an area that you needed a special permit or clearance to be in, and that you were only allowed to come on Sunday. It felt good to be a part of a team, on a mission to help preserve these traditional techniques. I was reminded of the feeling I had mourned the previous day, and I felt a piece of my heart start to mend. I thought back to an extensive reading I had received almost 10 years prior, where I learned that it would be hard for me to call one place home and that I would find peace and kinship in many lands near and far. That I am a wanderer of sorts, and I have been and will be a part of building many worlds. Observing arbitrary borders created by men isn’t my gig so to speak. I can be a part of something larger than me in any time and space, and will continue to do so. I found reassurance there. Harvesting the straw is a simple yet laborious task. We worked cheerfully throughout the day and took a break only for the local noodle spot down the road and a soft cream. Both were fantastic. 

    Later that night I lay awake churning with the full moon like waves in the ocean. The sight of Mt. Fuji illuminated by the moon was almost too much for my druid heart to bear.  I cried harder than I had allowed myself to in a long time. I knew that this moment was both the beginning and an end. The end of a chapter that took so much, and the beginning of one that would require much more of me. 

    I accepted the challenge and hurled all of the reservations I held at the full moon as she beckoned me to release and lean in. 

    -Amber Alyn

  • My Time at Mt. Fuji Wood Culture Society, Part 1

    My Time at Mt. Fuji Wood Culture Society, Part 1

    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