What Once Was

The textures, the grains, the contours, and the subtle light barely brushing
the surface of, perhaps, a very old log sitting quietly in a meadow of wild
flowers, perhaps an irony or perhaps the system displaying the very core of the reality and the truth behind the nature of how the nature evolves and moves on.

The nature doesn’t dwell on what was or what could be. It is one of the most
cruelest form of surgeons, either consciously or subconsciously.

My existence or my presence in a scene is so transient in the grand scheme
of things that it makes me more than nervous. The log and the bark were there all along, perhaps years before I  even existed. and it may survive after
I vanish. I am the visitor here with the least amount of time, and I am in the
presence of something which has survived for what seems like ages.

The feeling of smallness is way more than real. I can’t help appreciate the
system’s impartiality and its ability to move on regardless of what role one
played in a system. No matter how giant the tree was and how important a role it played in the ecosystem, now the tree and the squirrel rest in the same
ground. It ended when the time was right, not less, not more; just right.

How could a system create something like me who survives in dwelling and
struggles to move on?  At times it feels like rolling a giant boulder
uphill. I am part of the system, perhaps inactive and partially vocal, but I
cannot deny the fortune of just being able to observe and ponder what once was and how peacefully it’s waiting to return where it came from.

You can download the PDF of this project here.

The Remnants

I have been sitting on this project for some time now, and it was hard to bring it to some form of decisive conclusion. I think it ended up becoming a distraction, so here we are. Project link. This became a project over time once I started noticing weathered tree trunks in the woods. A fallen tree generates mixed feelings in my heart, as anything which no longer exists in it’s prime. It’s a wrinkle, it’s scar, it’s a dent and it’s one more form of change an ecosystem goes through.
Something that once was but it no longer is. Once it was a tree and now it’s a guitar and as the quote goes: In life, I am silent. In death, now I sing.
SDHS 022_duotone
Tree trunks 027
Tree trunks 032