Routes of Memory

Routes of Memory

I could not wind up my tree series until I had painted the specimen below.  We
"found" it while hiking out in Glacier National Park; it absolutely captivated me so  I took a lot of photos.  For many reasons it was intriguing and fascinating.

  Home again, it continued to haunt me as I realized how very little I knew about

"my" tree: how old was it, what kind of tree was it, was it still living?

This is how paintings start!

Pretty soon I was imagining conversations with Mr. Tree about

all the harsh weather he had lived through, all the vegetation he had seen

come and go, all the hikers he had watched pass by.  I was

certain that my tree had stories to tell about the history he

has seen and lived through.

This is how artists go mad!

Anyway, here is my effort.

You don't have to understand it.  I won't be offended.

But I'll give you a hint as to why I surrounded my

tree with all those beautiful computer chips.

We record the passage of time in so many ways, we write it, we store it,

we photograph it, we catalogue it and we file it.

But time is also recorded in so many other ways: the lines on

a face, the cracks in a stone, the depth of a river and

the bend of a tree.

One is not better than the other, just different.  It's

important that we take notice of both.

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