FLORA 

Maya Hayashi Sapsford

Home isn’t always a location—it’s a feeling built over time through small acts of care, quiet routines, and the values passed between generations.

This body of work reflects on a childhood shaped by two distinct cultural lineages: the traditions, aesthetics, and sensibilities of Japan, and the fluid, ever-evolving landscape of American life. These influences come together to create a sense of home that isn’t tied to geography, but rooted in family, memory, and love.

In my household, identity took shape through the everyday: walking the dog, group chats that bridged time zones and busy schedules, rituals carried across continents, and daily exchanges of language, food, coffee and affection. Over time, these small gestures formed a quiet foundation—a way of blending and preserving our heritage.

Hostas, sakura, bamboo, Japanese maple, and lilies became quiet constants in our family’s life. They appeared outside the windows of our Akasaka apartment, in the shady corners of our yard in Karuizawa, between the bricks of a Georgetown townhouse, on the kitchen counter on Mother’s Day, or as centerpieces at Thanksgiving dinner. These plants have come to symbolize who we are across every home we’ve made. Living reminders of the Hayashi-Sapsford story, they reflect how something deeply rooted can still move, adapt, and grow.

Through these symbols of flora, this work explores how love and cultural memory are passed down—not as fixed traditions, but as evolving expressions of identity shaped by care, resilience, and time.