Part Lothlorien tree-house, part hippy-mountain cabin, David’s Japanese Teahouse felt like an entry into quintessential Topanga of a bygone era.
A fusion of east/west, indoor/outdoor, it elicited the simplicity of daily ritual; bathing in the wooden bathhouse, meal preparation outside in temperate autumnal evenings. It offered the luxury of a large tree-top bedroom suite and the grounded earthiness found in open-air living environments which delicately draw attention to the moment and the beauty of the natural world against which our daily lives anesthetize.
The uneven imperfection of the Teahouse allows for a deep relaxation into the roughness of ones own humanity and transports back to a type of living that proceeded our culture-wide addiction to syrupy-soulless-perfection. This is a place where kids play happily in the dirt outside or find delight in creeping the steep stairs to enter the hobbit sized door and friends pull up rickety chairs around simple fare but marvel in the canopy-filtered moonlight.
It was a kind of easy bliss for us. We did our very best not to leave, even extending our stay to squeeze every last drop of essence this place offers. Pure magick!