Category Archives: Wabi-Sabi

Nara Visa New Mexico: Land of Enchantment




New Mexico refers to itself as the Land of Enchantment.  That is a pretty bold claim, not entirely unjustified. It is a beautiful state. Yet it has some places that are evidence of serious decline in the United States.  I stopped at one of on this trip.


Before this trip to Arizona began my lovely wife Christiane, who thinks she really is the boss of me, told me—clearly and unequivocally—that no stops for photographs would be tolerated on the journey down south. I could take photos on the trip back north at the end of winter but now she wanted to get as far south as fast as possible.  She wanted to get out of the cold. She thought she had been very clear. I shrugged. In other words, I did not evince acceptance or rebellion, but in my heart of hearts I knew I would stop if I saw something compelling, Today, I found compelling.

We drove through the high plains of Kansas and Oklahoma as well as west Texas We saw some lovely fog and resulting hoarfrost but I dutifully resisted stopping. Frankly, we were in a hurry to get to Arizona because we started out on the trip and the weather conditions appeared excellent.  This turned out to a wise analysis when we arrived later in New Mexico we learned that we were 1 day ahead of the storm

However, when we drove through the tiny town of Nara Visa New Mexico I could not resist.  The town sits in the midst of the Canadian River Breaks, a strip of rough and broken land extensively dissected by tributaries of the Canadian River. This was a town in a serious state of decline. If Donald Trump ever drove into it he would have to admit that this was a shithole town. Worse even than those countries from Africa he described as “shithole countries.” How is that possible? Is it true that Donald Trump was the president of a country with a shithole town for 4 years?

I stopped and eagerly climbed out of the car right along highway 54. There some fantastic dilapidated houses and buildings and I took a number of photographs. It love towns on the way toward ghost towns. I am not sure what my attraction to them is, but it is real.

The first school in this town was built in 1906.  By 1910 it had 4 active churches. Reminds me of Steinbach. By 1919 it had 8 saloons, at least 3 dance halls, more than 1 drug store, a barber shop, general stores, butcher shops, millinery shops, and believe it or not auto suppliers! There were garages, hotels, and one bank. Sounds like a pretty thriving community before the 1920s.  Prosperity did not last. By 1968 there were only 7 students in the school.  That was the year the school permanently closed. By 2020 the census said there were 212 residents! According to Michael Harding’s blog by 2022 less than 100 people lived there.  It certainly is declining and you can see it in the buildings sinking into the earth.

The Japanese have built a philosophy on the idea of appreciating old things that are deteriorating.  They call it Wab-Sabi. I have posted about it before and you can find it under the category of Wabi-Sabi.I find it a very congenial philosophy. Perhaps because I am old and deteriorating.

On the other hand, I have also been blogging about the decline of western civilization which is not necessarily a good thing, although western civilization has often been responsible for much grief.


Impressionism: Art of the imperfect

Claude Monet: Rising Tide at Pourville (1881)

I have been blogging lately about a Japanese philosophy that goes by the name of Wabi-Sabi. It celebrates impermanence, the here and now. Is this not exactly what impressionism does too? Both disciplines found truth and beauty in the ordinary, mundane, and fleeting experiences that traditionally had been discarded as of no consequence. The Impressonists, like practitioners of Wabi-Sabi knew better.



Pierre-Auguste renoir: Still Life with Blue Cup (1900)

I recently attended a wonderful exhibit at the Winnipeg Art Gallery, it displayed magnificent works of art by expressionists and others from its own collection, temporarily loaned works, and a large number of works owned by the Brooklyn Museum. Often hyped,  exhibits splash prominent names of artists but deliver a paltry plate of vittles. This was not like that. I am no expert, but I thought it was an outstanding display of modern art.


Henri de Fantin-Latour: Bouquet of Mixed Flower with Zinnias and Dahlias  in a Bowl (1865)

The exhibit was called, French Moderns: Monet to Matisse, 1850-1950 and contained works of arts from many of the great artists of the 19thand 20thcenturies including Cezanne, Monet, Degas, Manet, Renoir, Matisse and many more.


Cherish the Old


This old building, I found in western Manitoba,  was one of my favourites until it sank into this pond.  I thought it was beautiful. Until then I enjoyed it. Joy can be short-lived, but that does not make it less real.

Wabi-sabi is a philosophy that is a determined opponent  of  soulless consumption.   It resists consumer society that insists always on something new. It cherishes the old. It reject  the modern fetish of the new. It accepts  the old for what it is—something of lasting durable value, even where the outer appearance is shabby is worn. The real value of the thing remains. It is what endures, no matter what blows are suffered upon it. Until it disappears that is.

It is only the dull, shallow, and shabby who no longer appreciate old thing or old people. People who are swindled by the temptation of shiny appearances, baubles in other words, are the same ones who can no longer recognize true value. There is an enduring value in things that the genuine conservative wants to preserve. The conservative wants to conserve the valuable no matter how old or no matter how likely to decay and die.

Those who don’t see the enduring value think that time spent on repairing, protecting, or restoring is time wasted. So often in today’s shallow world as soon as something is apparently not working as well as it should it is discarded. Not only is that wasteful, it is foolishness. The person of Wabi-Sabi cherish  what is of enduring value.

Wabi-Sabi Revisited

This is one of my favourite old buildings. It is located near Beausejour Manitoba.  A number of months ago I wrote about a new philosophy I had discovered.  Well to me it was new, but it was really an old philosophy. The philosophy is called Wabi-Sabi and it has found a congenial home in Japan, the same country that brought us forest bathing. More on that another time. Wabi-Sabi is a philosophy of genuine conservatism—not the shallow rancid kind practiced by some modern politicians of the right. Wabi-Sabi cherishes what has stood the test of time, even though it is already decaying. Nothing lasts forever, but we should embrace the good while it lasts and then give it up with regret, but understanding.

Wabi-Sabi is a philosophy that accepts impermanence and even celebrates it. Like buildings that are collapsing into decay. Or old vehicles or other instruments.  Even old people are embraced and appreciated for what they can bring, even when it is less than they could bring at one time.

Wabi-Sabi rejects the current relentless pursuit of the new in favor of cherishing instead the old, which is still valuable. Like all good art Wabi-Sabi finds and then celebrates the extraordinary that can be found in the ordinary, provided one has the eyes to see. Or has the mind to see. Common everyday things can have a startling beauty if one is alert. One must be alert for the marvellous as otherwise it might pass one by.


I think Wabi-Sabi fits in well with my search for moral humility. One can forsake the hyper-beautiful in favor of a quiet beauty that stills the soul rather than puffing up the chest. It is modest or humble.

Early on in photography, I saw images by photographers who found beauty in the mundane even if they had never heard of the philosophy of the Wabi-Sabi. Freeman Patterson is one of my favorite photographers and I think he exemplified this approach. I remember the first time I saw his photographs of collapsing buildings in South Africa and was amazed at the beauty he found there.  I am nowhere near the photographer that Patterson is, but I have caught on to the beauty in the ordinary even if I fail to match his skill in displaying it. But I try. And, of course, I am not perfect, and never will be. The perfect is the enemy of the good and sometimes even of the one who strives for beauty.


One artist who appreciated the beauty of the flawed was Leonard Cohen. Remember the line from his song,


Ring the bells that still can ring,

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in


Too often who seek perfection are continually dissatisfied with the good. What a pity. The good is good enough.

Life is always frayed and if you don’t like the untidy ends you don’t love life. You love death instead.  The art, the photography, I am interested in sees beauty and truth in such rough timber, for as Shakespeare said, we are made of such rough timber. Art that is perfect is too often lifeless.  By definition the ideal is not alive. The ideal can inspire us, but it does not keep company with us. This is the art of the rough.

Recently on the radio I heard a Broadway musical star talk about her “dream home” that she had bought in the country.  She said she loved that it was 100 years older than she was.  It was more than 150 years old. Not old for Europe where such homes are appreciated, but very old here in North America. She also loved that it had its original floors. She said she loved to walk barefoot on that floor, especially on the “uneven floor.”  She loved the flaws. I love flaws. Of course, some say I love flaws because I am so deeply flawed. Maybe they are right.