Sometimes I wonder where I would be now if sixteen years ago I had not moved to that small wooden apartment in the back alleys of Harajuku. I think about the living himalaya cedar I found there and the fundamentally different turns my life would surely have taken and can't help but feel the presence of some unseen power. Call it fate, call it what you will.
What exactly is it about treehouses that would so captivate a slacker like me, a man who could never devote himself to any one cause or finish anything he started? What is it in treehouses that attracts anyone? I've come to think the answer lies in the vitality of the trees themselves. Everlasting life.
Treehouse building has taken me to forests and woodlands across Japan - across the globe, and everywhere I've been, I've seen reflected in these largest and oldest of living beings the same nameless light that I've struggled to maintain within myself for so many years, the one that noone could tarnish and that never seemed to disappear. That comfort, that sense of calm, is something I'd like to share with as many people as possible. And it is with that in mind that I will continue with the one-of-a-kind rush that is treehouse creation, all the while carrying out my own personal dialogue with their hosts.
Because my companion is life itself. And as long as there are undiscovered trees still waiting...