In the book Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designer, Poets and Philosophers (a thin, austere book that made strong impression me during a difficult time in my life), author Leonard Koren defines wabi-sabi as “a beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. It’s the beauty of things unconventional.”
Wabi-sabi is one of those vague Japanese words that is easily and often lost in translation. This philosophy came into my life five years ago when I found myself a single divorced mother of one. You can read about this in my second food memoir How to Cook A Dragon: Living, Loving, and Eating in China. For most of my life, I felt I was living the antithesis of wabi-sabi, living in a self-imprisoned life tof creating perfection —the perfect dinner party, the perfectly decorated home, the perfect wife.
The austere, beautifully simple little book Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designer, Poets and Philosophers beckoned me to pick it up at the Kinokunya bookstore in San Francisco’s Japantown. I found a stool in a corner and read the entire book before buying it, it’s that short. That was more than four years ago and philosophically and aesthetically, I have embraced wabi-sabi and made it my mission to lead an uncomplete, unsettled life savoring the bumps and blemishes in the Green Mountain State of Vermont. I always keep several books on hand to give to a new or old friend and on my writing table where I skim it every so often. I usually read something new or have a fresh insight on something previously read.
In this blog, I hope to share some lessons I’ve learned and am learning, discuss what I’m into and why, and reveal some of my personal insight on writing, food, singledom, kids, and lifestyle.
