25 years ago, I was in Japan for a month, painting murals in Tokyo DisneySea. I worked six days a week on a construction site, with more noise and toxic smells than I’d ever experienced in America. On Sundays, my one day off, I explored Tokyo and the surrounding areas.
On my last free day, my friend Marady and I took the train to Kamakura, a town known for its Great Buddha statue. We wanted to take the long way through the mountains, so we memorized the Japanese characters for Great Buddha so we could find our way there.
Pics from Marady's old photo album--remember those?
It was a beautiful hike through the forest. We visited all the temples and shrines along the way. At one, we washed our money for good luck. At another, squirrels ran up our shoulders and down our arms to get food. Every time we saw a directional sign, we looked for the Great Buddha symbols to guide our way.
After a few hours, though, we started to wonder when we were ever going to reach it. We hadn’t had lunch yet. The day was getting hot. No one we met spoke English. We just kept walking, following signs with those familiar characters, getting more and more fatigued.
Adventures in temples
Finally, we ran into someone who could communicate with us. He said the Japanese characters we pointed to actually said “Great Buddha trail,” and had nothing to do with reaching the statue! Desperate now, we turned off the path and slid through thick brush down the mountain, in the hopes of getting back to town. We emerged onto an empty, paved road. After a few more minutes of walking, we found ourselves at the gate of the Great Buddha. We hadn’t realized how close we were.
I’ll never forget how I felt standing in front of that 43-foot statue. It had sat there for over 750 years. The temple that once housed it had washed away in a tidal wave in the 15th century, so it had survived the elements ever since. It gazed down at us, huge and quiet, as if to say, nothing really matters in the end, except this.
Finally reached the Great Buddha
We didn’t stay long because we were starving, but that moment has stayed with me ever since. What it taught me is that it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. We’re all walking the Great Buddha Trail of life.
An oil painting I did the following year, inspired by the spiritual experiences I had in Japan and in Kundalini yoga.
Art Heals
Mexican artist Hilda Palafox has a new show at Sean Kelly New York, titled De Tierra y Susurros, or Of Soil and Whispers. Her work is part of the ecofeminist movement, which ties the treatment of women to the treatment of nature, and looks for solutions based on justice for both. I experience her work as being grounding and defiant at the same time.
I'll be telling more stories in an upcoming workshop, Lessons From Disney: What Painting Ducks Taught Me About Art, coming up on February 3. Keep your eyes out for an announcement.
