Page 44 - Tạp chí bonsai cây cảnh BCI 2014Q4

Top; Ponderosa Pine, Pinus was shocking in his approach, with a flair for show- by his work, or you were not. To some small extent,
ponderosa manship, making more than one person gasp as they passionate enthusiasm or perplexed dislike still follow
Bottom left; Alpine Hemlock, watched him do seemingly impossible things to his efforts. But in truth, he wouldn’t have it any other
Tsuga mertensiana strangely beautiful trees. Even more than his actions, way; being passionate about the art is what matters.
Bottom right; Daniel and his words were new and challenging to many. A “mav- Daniel has a keen understanding of himself, his art-
student, Eric Ridgeway.
erick” in every sense of the word, Daniel moved with istry, and what he has accomplished. He never rests on
the same creativity and vigor he does now, though his laurels, but instead moves with the confidence of
maybe not all the wisdom his many years of pursuit a man with nothing to prove and everything to share.
has granted him. To be frank, you were either excited He regards every day as an opportunity to create or
refine something unique.
As his student, I spent years under his guidance,
dutifully taking on any task that was asked. When
early in our time together he tested my resolve
against a 20-foot prostrate Cedrus atlantica ‘Glauca
Pendula’ perched precariously on the top of a steep
hill, I was quite certain he had lost his mind. I
couldn’t understand the relationship between creating
something lovely out of this great reaching tree, which
looked more like ‘Cousin Itt,” the hairy character from
the Addams Family series, than any tree I had ever
seen, and bonsai. But he told me, if I could do this…
I could do anything. He was teaching courage, and
throughout my years that was a central theme; the
courage to do a thing. He explained that it was one of
the greatest things which held people back from the
depth of their potential, aside from the essential visual
record which would help people design truly ancient
and venerable trees. Courage and understanding…
those were the key ingredients.
Once, when looking over a lovely rhododendron
with his signature multiple apexes, he said, “If a girl
were brave, she would take out one of those crowns.”
I did it without hesitation, and from that moment
everything changed. It didn’t matter that as soon as I
had done it, he grunted and said it was not necessarily
the one he would have chosen. He was pleased by the
willingness to engage as a creative partner with him
in his garden. Consensus was not needed; it was the
willingness to do a thing that mattered. He never
called me student, and I never called him master. He
would introduce me to people as his equal, which
always made me laugh, but is still held by me as the
highest praise I could have asked for.

42 | BCI | October/November/December 2014