not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

grey tree


how much time can one day hold?
when does this tree exist?

12 comments:

  1. trees are so like music . . . creating a space ... creating an idea . . . . steven

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  2. Erin!!!! This is exatly the feelibg i have with trees, the feeling of the immense and power of nature, and i feel so small... One i must to tell you, one day of the last week i goes with theo to our usually walk and i saw a tree with a broken arm, but this huge arm was cured and was covered with a cream .. at that time I had even more 'love for the trees. Erin I can ask if there 'a tree that you love more'?

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  3. steven, perhaps even more than this.

    laura, i hug you and theo and the tree with the broken arm. yes, there is. but as though i have many lovers, the special one that is before me is the one i love the most.

    except for one that is not a tree at all, but a cage of bark. i wrote about it here

    http://insearchofwhitespace.blogspot.com/2011/12/journal-53-necking-with-nature.html

    i don't link to cause you to read. i link so that you might understand. i love her. i love her achingly. it seems to me that she died this past december 24th, newly frozen to the ground and heavy snow upon her. i tried to lift her back to the trail from which she was blown and she fractured, her back frozen into the ground. when i leaned to kiss her i was too much pressure. i broke her ribs. i kiss her every time, still, that i pass, now in her death. since then i've learned who is her mother, where she came from. somehow she is everything to me, all points of learning.

    but there are others, less important, but immeasurably important. just yesterday i blurted about a silly jaunty tamarack (i think) posed in a large area of snag which i see every day i go to work, oh, she is mine (knowing she is not mine) and how i love her!

    we must be foolish women, laura. but how i don't mind.))))

    xo
    erin

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  4. it exists at that moment when roots crunch rocks

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  5. My love was a huge oak tree that sat at the end of the driveway where I grew up. Oh how many hours was spent climbing in it. Hiding for hours unseen up high and dreaming or watching life around me.

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  6. Erin did you change your lay out on here or did I enter the twilight zone? The back ground is black now and only your Title is in White.

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  7. ollie, and the roots are always crunching that rock, aren't they, even on route.

    liz, i'm glad you had a tree. you should find a new one now or allow it to find you.

    and yes, i changed the blog. black is the new white, or white the new black, or something like that. i get antsy. it's space, either way. i don't find white and black very distant from one another. i needed a change. i'll change again. i can't imagine to what.

    xo
    erin

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  8. I like the new change. I was just making sure it wasn't something happening on my end. For sometime now I haven't been able to log in on blogger from my computer so I been posting from my phone, but for some reason I just noticed I am logged in now on my computer and can post again from here. So I like to think maybe your change helped in some strange way. lol I know it didn't but it's what I'm thinking so I'm sticking to it. :)

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  9. How many trees can have a day time?

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  10. As for me finding a new tree. I did find one but it didn't want me. I have decided to stop looking and hope one day it will find me.

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  11. I just received a beautiful book yesterday called "Tree Spirits: Tales and Encounters" written and illustrated by Heather Preston. It's stunning, and though I am pretty new to your space, this post made me realize that you would love this book, too.

    Taken from the book:

    "...it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep
    A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
    Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
    ~John Keats, Endymion

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  12. damaso, i think every tree must be a universe:))

    liz, there will be another. there is always another. we prepare ourselves in the meantime.

    mj, my reaction to this, your sharing is, god, how i am in love with this life. thank you.

    xo
    erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))