Spending this much time with one tree is becoming challenging, some days I love the fact that I have a something to go to, something that holds me, grounds me, listens to me, shares space with me. Other days when I think of all the things I haven’t done, the collections piled high on spaces throughout my studio, I see the impermanence of it all. I wonder why did I ever start this? Why didn’t I drive straight by the fallen tree without a second thought? Why is it so important that I spend this time working with a tree?
The pile of leaves I saved from the original canopy of the tree are sitting in a pile in my studio, they have an ecology of their own, a micro world of decay. I have a morbid fascination with watching this pile of leaves disintegrate. Initially I was using some of them for dyeing and making ink, but as time has gone by, I have moved onto other parts of the tree, and the leaves have continued on their own journey.
1. (of organic matter) rot or decompose through the action of bacteria and fungi. “the body had begun to decay”
synonyms: decompose, rot, putrefy, go bad, go off, spoil, fester, perish, deteriorate;