Colorado Springs artist practices and teaches ikebana, Japanese art of flower arranging
Ikebana found Heidi Almosara when she needed it most.
The ancient art of Japanese flower arranging, with its meticulously arranged branches, flowers and other materials from the natural world, creates beauty through asymmetrical balance and a less is more philosophy. There’s a purpose to the aesthetic — to mirror the human experience.
“Think about our lives — are they perfect? Is everything in balance?” said Almosara, who teaches the art form. “No individual can argue their life is perfect or well-balanced. That’s why asymmetry is more valued in your arrangement, because it’s closer to what real life is like.”
The Colorado Springs multidisciplinary artist first found ikebana (pronounced e-kay-bawna) when she and her military husband were stationed in Tokyo in 2015. After leaving behind her friends, family and a tenured position as a university arts professor in the U.S., the loss and loneliness were palpable, but she took the long view.

“It’s all about your mindset,” she said. “Mine was OK, I don’t have those things in my life anymore, but let’s focus on the positive. What do I have? An entire foreign country to explore. And a culture I don’t know much about and so many unforeseen opportunities, so why don’t I just go and find them?”
By doing just that and immersing herself in Japanese culture, by chance she found herself at a performance by Shuho Hananofu, an internationally known ikebana artist and the first female headmaster at the Silver Pavilion in Kyoto. Almosara watched as Hananofu spent 30 minutes in silence as she contemplated a branch, finally using a hatchet to create her arrangement.
“When she was done she bowed to it. It was breathtaking,” Almosara said. “I’d never seen anyone do that before, especially in American culture. It was this very special, meditative practice where you had nothing and turned it into something beautiful.”
That experience was life-changing. Soon after Almosara found the Sogetsu Foundation in Tokyo, an ikebana school, where dhr completed the entire curriculum of five books and 110 lessons and became a certified teacher. She was given the teacher name Yanagi, which means willow, a material she loves to work with due to its forgiving nature.
“You get into a Zen-like state where you and the materials have to work together to create something,” she said. “But you could break a branch or a flower and obviously it didn’t want to do that. So how do you collaborate with the materials where you’re both working artistically and creatively and in sync with one another to create something? Willows want to bend. They want to go into a unique form and change shape. I feel like I’m collaborating with the material and we’re friends.”
She likes to paraphrase Sogetsu’s founder Sofu Teshigahara: “He talks about if the artist could connect with the plant materials as humankind, then they would be closer to their arrangement. They would make better work because they’re treating them like they would treat a person, like with kindness, love, forgiveness even. By connecting to materials like we do to humanity, that’s when we can reach a deeper level with our arrangements.”
Her love for the ikebana aesthetic is on full display in her home studio, a sunlit room filled with the trappings of the natural world. A human-sized bird of paradise plant greets visitors, while vanilla white snapdragons and pink and chartreuse chrysanthemums stand at attention in buckets of water. A basket-like sculpture created from her beloved willow branches sits on display, and stacks of Japanese pottery and hand-thrown pots by her mother-in-law fill the shelves.
Pieces from her September show at Surface Gallery hang on the wall: black and white photos of ikebana arrangements and large ikebana-inspired, high-relief pieces made with pencil cattails, king protea, wood from her parents’ longtime home and other once-living materials she painted a creamy white.

“I saw her stuff and said oh my gosh, yes. It really stands out,” said Surface Gallery owner Valerie Lloyd. “What I loved was it’s a new process I’ve never seen before and is influenced by ikebana, but it’s not ikebana because it can last. Taking something that was once alive and working with it in a new form that will last for a long time, it becomes this art that still felt life-like, which is amazing to me.”
That new work is inspired by a surprising and serendipitous connection to her grandmother, who died a decade ago. Five years ago she looked inside boxes of her grandmother’s things and found several ikebana-related items, including a catalog for the Sogetsu Foundation.
She’ll give a talk about ikebana, her new work and her grandmother on Friday during the 2nd Friday Lecture Series at Cottonwood Center for the Arts.
“I opened the box and got chills,” Almosara said. “And I was also confused. I never knew my grandma had done ikebana and to the extent exhibited in these boxes. I found maps of Kyoto and circles around art stores where ikebana shops were. Then I found curriculum she studied and I studied curriculum, too, and she wrote a letter where she started a study group. What gave me the most chills was this catalog — it’s a Sogetsu exhibition catalog of ikebana works from 1962.”
It’s that catalog Almosara is now using as inspiration. Her work is on display at True North Art Gallery, where she’ll teach a holiday ikebana workshop on Dec. 17. Attendees will create a take-home floral arrangement. Space is limited. Register online at heidialmosara.com.

The ephemeral, mindful and meditative art form focuses more on the journey of creation rather than the end result. For Almosara it’s a time to connect and collaborate with the materials and natural world and to unwind and be in the present moment. It’s one of the reasons she likes to teach the method.
“I want to give people the space and time to relax, to make something unique and beautiful,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what the end result is. It’s that time where you can zone out and make something precious. A lot of people who practice ikebana refer to it as the Zen of flowers because it’s mindful and meditative. I’ve noticed I’ll sit down to make something for 20 minutes and two hours have passed. It’s so tranquil and serene. A lot of health benefits come with ikebana.”
An ikebana arrangement presents a different aesthetic than a flower arrangement you’d find at a U.S. grocery store.
“A floral arrangement done in America is more full,” she said. “When we have a container, things are shoved in there, like more is better, which is beautiful, but it just has a different presence. In ikebana, you’re consciously thinking about visual elements and principles of design.
The origin story of ikebana, which translates to living flower or arranging flower, is up for debate, as there’s no definitive starting point. One school of thought believes it started in sixth-century China, when people made flower offerings to the gods in temples. Over time that flower offering became more elaborate, morphing into flower arrangements. During the Renaissance period, in the 1400s and 1500s, noblemen and monks began flower arranging, but never women. Only around the mid-to-late 1800s, as Japan became more Westernized, were women finally allowed to take part in the practice.
Thousands of Japanese schools offer the art form, but there are three major ones, including Sogetsu, which started in 1927.
“Its motto is: Anyone anywhere anytime can do ikebana,” Almosara said. “That inclusivity is beautiful. It also is more artsy. You can break more rules. Sofu was a sculptor and painter, so that helped. He wanted to make it more contemporary because he wanted more people to be part of the art form.”












