impatient

A little off-shoot from the bigger piece…

I’m waiting impatiently for the photos. Stewart will send them when they’re ready. I know better than to bother him.

I can feel that I’m still WITH my large piece, since I’ll be driving down to DC to hang it in the gallery there next week. At the same time … I’m onto my next idea. I prefer to let my newest beginnings gestate on their own for a while, not share them. It means that they have maximum ability to morph. I’m not defining anything too soon.

That said, I was noticing my impatience with the piece that’s done. Just wanting to keep moving and get it all set up. But really, what’s the hurry?

Last night I was, again, reading this book that I’m so enjoying (you know which one: Hope Jahren’s) and she talks about how trees determine when to shed their leaves and when to grow new ones – and the complex chemical processes that accompany that. It’s all calibrated by the amount of light. The amount of sun per calendar day does not shift from year to year whereas the temperature can vary widely. Thus we have the seasons of the trees, reliably, as we witness them year in and year out.

She then goes on to report about her research in the Arctic Circle. She and a team of scientists dig up evidence of trees that lived there millions of years ago. The Arctic Circle has 3 months of non-stop sunlight and then… three months of the opposite. The huge question is: how did such trees live through 3 months of total darkness?

What a different time! I love that there was this completely “other world” that existed on this planet, I love that we cannot explain it. And I love that time is so full of possibilities.

For some reason, reading about these inexplicably patient trees gives me perspective on my few days of waiting for the photos and the installation of my work.