Looking for Spring (More from the Arnold Arboretum, Boston)
13th May 2020
I flip frequently from thinking on the acute problems of the pandemic to reminding myself to stop and turn away.
I go to empty spaces and landscape riffs to try to forget and recharge.
But can I really forget?
Below another collage from mid March. I hesitate to post or publish images that I feel might be exploiting individuals who just happened to be within my camera range.
I was concentrating on the trees as I rummaged around off the path, searching for signs of Spring. As I panned left I caught the family -- but felt I was intruding. Reality is sending messages I suppose.
Looking for Spring (Arnold Arboretum, March 2020)
On this day I was confronted with the importance of a place to go during this crisis. I was also confronted with runners and children not practicing social distancing and I became edgy and tense.
The bare trees reflect the vulnerability of our human existence in the face of this virus. We are without armor against a disease that has already killed so many.
Bent and reaching, the trees speak to each other and to me of our universal weakness. Any strength comes from within the roots and marrow of our ability to care for others.
I go to empty spaces and landscape riffs to try to forget and recharge.
But can I really forget?
Below another collage from mid March. I hesitate to post or publish images that I feel might be exploiting individuals who just happened to be within my camera range.
I was concentrating on the trees as I rummaged around off the path, searching for signs of Spring. As I panned left I caught the family -- but felt I was intruding. Reality is sending messages I suppose.
Looking for Spring (Arnold Arboretum, March 2020)
On this day I was confronted with the importance of a place to go during this crisis. I was also confronted with runners and children not practicing social distancing and I became edgy and tense.
The bare trees reflect the vulnerability of our human existence in the face of this virus. We are without armor against a disease that has already killed so many.
Bent and reaching, the trees speak to each other and to me of our universal weakness. Any strength comes from within the roots and marrow of our ability to care for others.