A friend of mine took up bonsai as a pastime after she had to leave work,
when her first baby was born. That was a long time ago. She is now a
grandmother, five times over. In the intervening years she created a
magnificent bonsai collection. Two years ago, however, she told me that she
could no longer keep up with the intensive maintenance her trees demanded,
and had decided to sell all the big ones she could not carry by herself. A
dealer was found who declared that he was prepared to take the trees as a
job lot, and offered her a pittance for them. When she protested, saying
that just the pots were worth three times the amount, he told her that he
wasn't interested in the pots, she could keep them if she wanted. So almost
half of her collection left in a big truck -- all trees that she had worked
on for 10 and 35 years, outstanding specimens, with their roots wrapped in
plastic. I asked her if it hadn't made her feel awful, but she shrugged. "I
am relieved I no longer have the responsibility for them", she said. "I felt
awful when I saw them becoming neglected, they didn't deserve that. I know
that they'll be looked after well, because they are too valuable to be
wasted." Then she smiled and said that now she'd finally be able again to
get some new trees, which she could style over the coming years, something
she couldn't afford to do when her full collection took up so much time, and
so much space.

I wonder if she ever got used to the bare retaining wall along her extended
rockery, where the biggest bonsai stood for many years. For my part, I
haven't.... quite.

The reason I am posting this story is prompted by a question that Andy
Rutledge asked in his Editorial of April, in Bonsai Today Online. In a
nutshell, for those who are not subscribers, he wished to know how people
felt about getting rid of bonsai in which they had invested so much time and
so much of themselves.
He sees working on bonsai as the creation of a partnership between the tree
and the artist, and considers it quite different from other artistic
endeavours, like e.g. painting or sculpting. Therefore, selling a bonsai
cannot be compared to selling a painting or sculpture; it is emotionally
traumatic. (I hope that's ok as the briefest possible summary, Andy?)

I have to dispose of a number of trees myself, because I have too many.
Of course I should have limited long ago the amount I acquired, but how many
of us can do that, before it's too late?
Now, apart from one or two, I can't decide which I should let go. Like Andy
has for his bonsai, I have plans for each of mine, and with the disposal of
the trees comes the disposal of the plans... of the future. That is a
combination which is anchored very deeply, and hard to uproot.
However, the more a good potensai advances in the direction of a good
bonsai, the more work it demands, and I am getting desperate. So, when I
have finally reduced the numbers, I expect I'll feel the same as my
friend.... Relief.

Ultimately, we shall have to let go of all our trees, which implies that in
the background of our partnership with them there is another, still shadowy
partnership, just waiting.

Lisa

From: "Marty Haber"

Lisa,
(...) The pleasure of working with trees, increasing their beauty as you
work, is the
real reward in bonsai.

Thanks, Marty. I am in full agreement.

It's the process, not the result that counts.

...... unless one sees the increased beauty as a result. Don't you agree?

If you think of it in these terms, you will never look back with regret
upon the hours,
months and years spent with bonsai.

No, but dread the future somewhat, nonetheless.
===========================
From: "Jim Lewis"

(...) There's absolutely no point in getting emotionally involved with a
tree in a pot.
There are always more where that one came from.

Just keep telling yourself that, Jim, and you'll be OK. ;-)))
===========================
From: "Alan Walker"

It doesn't matter so much that our bonsai don't purr or wag their tails or
get all
excited to see us. For many of us, the sentiment comes from our personal
investment
into the bonsai. This is not so different from the uncomfortable feelings
one has
wen selling a home and listening to the prospective buyers talk about how
they want
to change something that you really worked on and made the house special
to you.

That's it to a 't'. The investment that comes through involvement when we
work on our trees, the visualising while we prune and wire, the watching
when we go out to do the watering, the enjoyment when our efforts bear the
desired fruit.
================================
From: "Andy Rutledge"

(...) The fact is that the artist and the tree have a partnership that
necessitates
cooperation in ways not found in most (any?) other art(s).

Where else but in bonsai do you use a medium that creates itself, as much as
you create it? Where else do you have to adapt, as much as you ask your
medium to adapt? Where else do you feel that special respect, generated by a
_living _ medium?

Selling or giving away something that is unfinished, with the balance of
"our" plans
being unrealized is a bit different than selling/giving away a work of
art/possession that does not carry this kind of baggage.

Yes, it breaks a thread, one that ties you to you, and you to the tree.
==========================
From: "John Carnes"

I would suggest that if you have to get rid of some trees you might
consider giving them to friends, or beginners or people at your local
bonsai club.

We do that all the time, John, like a lot of people here. Or we sell for low
prices at our annual shows. But giving away or selling some of the best
trees in our collection, i.e. those in which we have invested a lot, is a
different matter.

Some might cringe at the thought of giving a nice tree to a beginner.

One should never give anything _but_ a nice tree to a beginner, specifically
because he is a beginner and could not handle anything without a good
potential. Personally I don't give away trees that I should not enjoy
working on myself.
===========================
With thanks to all,

Lisa