Take Me Home to Shisen-do

by William Will

Ascending the stairs, my mind settles down as I leave the outer world with its conflicts behind. The noisy hustle and bustle of everyday life subsides and I travel inward: up the old stone staircase, past the entry gate, along an inner courtyard with its bed of raked gravel. I have entered into Shisen-do, a residence built in the early 17th century as a refuge from the worldly powers that be.

The aesthetic is somewhat austere, tasteful, simple. The scale is intimate. The materials are rough and irregular, but selected carefully with an eye for the overall concept. The influence of the tea ceremony and its aesthetic is clearly felt, but constrained by a clear sense of personal taste.

The open space of the living quarters extends out into a sea of raked gravel that is framed by the round sculpted hedges of azalea known as karikomi. They form the middle ground of a small garden that recedes into the surrounding woodland of Japanese maples and other native trees. The white, level sea of gravel soothes my mind and provides a horizontal plane of repose, a space for ideas to evolve and flourish. The hillside beyond rises to contain those thoughts, to protect and nourish.

Set back into the hill a stone lantern, fixing my gaze, letting me dwell on the edge of the garden space. And there, a little bit further off, another leading me deeper into the trees and off into the distance. Stairs lead me to a lower garden, added in more recent times. But I am drawn back to the veranda, to that place where my thoughts can hover over the white plane of gravel, moving in and out of the intimate space. Here I watch, present to the moment.