Archive for February, 2015

IMG_1767Photo by Pamela Paulsrud


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IMG_0148Contributed by Amber Schindler, 2013

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IMG_0141Artwork by Ginny Vander Hey

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Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

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IMG_0860Photo by Pamela Paulsrud


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Falling in Love with Nature

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And now for that message from Amy…

Hi, I am a CT-based mixed media artist, performer and survivor myself. I
was truly touched reading about your organization and would love to
become involved in some way. Trees have always been my friends,
healers, source of grounding and strength.

I have a pretty complicated story, but have survived a coma and nearly thirty surgeries by staying true to my passion – creativity and the arts. My artwork is an expression of what I have been through, and also a joyful celebration of life.

Trees are more than a symbol to me – they are a support and way of
life. Much of my art involves trees and my “Singing Tree” – one of my
most popular works was created at one of my darkest times after a
disastrous surgery. I have attached a few pictures of my tree
paintings, but I have hundreds more – a few that you can also find on
my website http://www.amyoes.com

I would love to be a part of your organization by either donating my
art, volunteering, or any way that I can give back to my community and
to nature. I’d love for you to learn more about my journey and my current work at my website (under the “artist” section) at http://www.amyoes.com.

Thank you so much!


Amy Oestreicher

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This poetry was submitted by Amy Oestreicher. Her courageous life’s story and connection to trees will be featured in a follow-up post.

by Amy Oestreicher

Whether I am the trespasser, alien
The outcast, the tortoise turned on its side
I can see the stream from here
And I long to dance with the source.

Can I fish for you, blue glimpse?
A glimpse of the word as it was intended to be?
The realism thrills me

In a world of
geometricshapes,painted signs,brightredautomobiles,

my hollow shell overflows with relief.
For I have now caught the world in coy disarray, in bashful asymmetry.
(I’m sorry I disturbed you – I had thought you were done changing)

But fair lilies in the stream, let me flatter you:

You are such unperturbed beauty; a beautiful mess
Some divine energy had a penchant for modern art.

This trail I stumble down begs to recount to me, pleads, “Can I tell you a story?”
Of What? What – some kind of archetypal tale to us with its paw prints, bird calls, freaks and daddy long legs crawling under rocks like blue crabs
Moist air
Shadowed filth
rocking trees comforting one another in this dark forest community.
Blue forest glimpse – you are my catch and my soul is your bait.
Here is my glimpse of the world as it was intended to be
Realism thrills me as the wind now thrills your branches.

In a world of perfect geometric shapes, of painted signs, of bright red automobiles…
I’ve wandered, lonely and seeking a friend, and I ask, can I belong?
I venture down and down further, and down.
I am a lone pebble, but unstranded, moving with the stream of wind that caresses the branches above me.

In each crumble, I breathe in the equalizing power of nature, of burgeoning love that transcends the limitations of being 5’3 when the trees are so tall.

The air sings and swells with a knowing comfort, a tune I have heard my whole life, as constant as the seasons

and now, I look up at the dense ceiling of trees and whisper, “Thanks.”
before even realizing that I had said it.

And now the dance begins! The dance that I can join too!
And the violins play, and there are brass, and winds, and chords, and reeds, and strings, and shrubs, pebbles, rocks, debris and slugs – sound and color and light!
Trees start to rock back and forth
dance with my awe,
They reply, “Yes.” Yes!

I am the lone pebble tymbling and tumbling, being shaped and molded by the ground beneath me, as it has beneath centiures and centures of lava and strata
And then I stop for I am stopped

A large oak tree firmly itself from the others.

I whispered to it, “Tree, sway for me…sway for me please…” it didn’t budge.

I’m lowered from my floating enchantment.

My soul-bait is anchored once again, as a fervent wind dodges
Corner to corner
Boomerang from trunk to trunk
Wind so dynamic it flickers like fire.

Wind so hasty it drenches flimsier trees with its own leaking madness.

All limbs of the forest shake madly now
All limbs of my body petrified with wonderment.

We are all shaking madly! dizzy and startled by the whippings of the delirious wind

Nature restores its internal pulse
The wind’s wrath quickly wearies
Smaller gusts
Internal pulsing
Even nature must sleep
Internal pulsing
prompts a limb of the stubborn oak tree to coyly bob up and down.
And the world was finally in sync.

I thank this forest sanctuary one more time before I leave.
I am a most welcome trespasser, and my shell is filled with burgeoning blue light

Goodnight, forest.

And all I could think about was how wonderful it would be to hold someone’s hand, staring at the trees together, in simultaneous awe, no words in our breath but all winds in our souls.

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What a wonderful site. I’d love to share some of my art with you, based on trees.

“Flaming Trees” is done in pastel over watercolor, and is about 34″ x 28″.

The print is done with acrylic paint, using a leaf as the printmaking vehicle. It has two panels. The overall size is 18″ x 14″. The title is “Fall Leaves”.

“River in Fall” is done with Conte pencils. The size is 14″ x 11″. The scene is from a place in New Jersey, and I liked the fall-colored trees, reflected on the water. I thought Conte pencils would give just the right amount of softness to the scene.

“Trees” is done with poured acrylic paint on watercolor paper. The size is 28″ x 36″. It’s one of my favorites. I thinned out each of the three primary colors, using water only, and began pouring, twisting the paper as each color was added.

I’m always photographing trees, also. The last image is from a series of photos I took of my neighbor’s tree. Couldn’t resist that white bark against the deep blue sky, with the few remaining leaves attached to the branches, so I ran inside and grabbed my camera.


Treena Rowan

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