STORY BEHIND THE ART OF asuka hishiki

25th Annual International

American Society of Botanical Artists and Wave Hill

PeekABoo! An heirloom tomato and a praying mantis

Solanum lycopersicum, Tenodera aridifolia



Since I moved back to Japan from the United States, I have been growing my own subjects in our backyard, even though my thumbs are black, not green. Fortunately, the tomato is a tough plant and it survives through my patchy care and the boiling Japanese heat each summer, well not thriving, but existing. But let’s look at the bright side, my subjects grow into unique looking plants, often my type.

This heavily scarred tomato was found some years back - the crack was like an evil smile planning big mischief against me. After finishing the piece, I kept it in my portfolio without any further thoughts. This happens often to me. After finishing a piece, I will put it aside. Even though it feels like it is completed, later I may change my mind. It may look as if something is missing and more needs to be added. It could be a tiny twig or a half of a dried leaf, but that changes everything. Or, it might be truly “completed” and a few years waiting changed nothing.

Another pleasure of having my own garden is to have many visitors or residents there - ants, bees, slugs, beetles, butterflies…the seasonal regulars. The most welcomed customers are tobacco budworms on my tomato plants. For me, they are not pests, but special guests and potential models for my artworks.

One summer day, I realized that there were more praying mantises in our backyard than before. It was a little bit strange, but I didn’t think more of it. Summer is the busy season - I am always fighting with time over decaying tomatoes and drying leaves. 

However, a new situation arose. The tobacco budworms were disappearing from my garden. I was so ready to add a tomato munching worm to my painting, and there were none in the garden. I wondered why, because I had spotted one just a few days before. 

Then, it hit me. The praying mantis!! Yes, they were there after the worms. If I see it that way - connecting the two dots, it is obvious! Of course, insects, bees, ants, birds are not always there for obvious reasons, but many of them connect to each other - some are friendly, and the others are deadly - richly complicated. The connecting lines from one to the other are not straightforward, but intertwined lavishly around plants, like an invisible web or woven fabric. We all learned about it in elementary school, but it is different if you see it on your own. Suddenly, a small universe in our backyard appeared in my mind's eye.  

I know, I am being melodramatic, but this spring when I found a young mantis wandering in our backyard, I felt the urge to portray it. So, I opened my portfolio and decided to add one to my smiling tomato. Now, I see a praying mantis peek-a-booing me behind the evil smiling tomato. The pair teamed up, looking even more naughty… So, I smile back at them.

I have probably written again and again about my interpretations of natural objects, especially tomatoes, tending to distinguish characters, attributing human-like personalities to them. Many people must have felt the same way as I do. They saw a plant, and its characteristic features recalled something else. Then they gave it a charming nickname, like monkey orchid (Dracula simia) and Buddha’s hand (Citrus medica var. sarcodactylis). Those beautiful plants simply speak to us. So did my evil smiling tomato and young praying mantis. 

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Read more about this artist's work: 24th Annual