It’s a small tree, a tree with no leaves whose branches expand and reach in all directions. It’s as if the branches are arms wanting to wrap themselves around the sky. A sky made of whispering clouds, and a backdrop made up of blue pastel hues and with the smell of an early winter, which is enriched by the warmness of the late afternoon light. This tree is imprisoned by metal tubing, formed in the shape of a railing to keep it bound to this visual plane. As I stood there looking upward at this mighty silhouette, I had to see beyond what was before me and began to partake in the movement of its branches. When you focus, you clearly see a chaotic pattern happening. When you step back to see the whole tree that pattern takes on a life, dancing in an upward direction speaking of a desire of freedom.
“I had a feeling about something and here is my metaphor of that feeling.” Minor White, PSA Journal, Vol. 29, No. 7, pp. 17-21, 1963
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Small Tree
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment