Trace of Nothingness

''As dusk approaches in the hinterlands, a traveler ponders shelter for the night. He notices tall rushes growing everywhere, so he bundles an armful together as they stand in a field, and knots them at the top. Presto, a living grass hut. The next morning before embarking on another day's journey, he unknots the rushes and presto, the hut de-constructs, disappears, and becomes a virtually indistinguishable part of the larger field of rushes once again. The original wilderness seems to be restored, but minute traces of the shelter still remain. A slight twist or bend in a reed here and there. There is also the memory of the hut in the mind of the traveler - and the mind of the reader reading this description. Wabi-sabi, in its purest, most idealized form is precisely about these delicate traces, this faint evidence, at the borders of nothingness'' - Leonard Koren (1994)