Blood vessels burst
into blue branches.
Knotted memories
of the same place
whisper secrets
from another life.
Blueprint to Mend a broken Landscape repeats the imagery of an oak tree I had an enlightened conversation with last year. As I gazed at the tree, branches began murmuring nonsense to me but wise knowledge to each other. I coated Cyanotype on cotton bed sheets to preserve the fleeing silhouette of the memory of my experience with this sense of interconnectedness. Branches break into fragments to show how we often distance ourselves from the outside world. Yarn submerged in red paint illustrates gestural loops of time, splattering traces of energetic movement. The trees have secrets of their own. Beneath us, a network of signals seeped in soil speaks softly. They have thrived here long before humans arrived. The pulse of bark reveals herself to those who wait patiently.
