Tag: storytelling

  • Storytelling—January 29, 2025

    🌳 Calling All Storytellers!

    Do you have a tree story to share? Whether it’s funny, inspiring, romantic, or mystical, we want to hear it!

    Join us on January 29th (Lunar New Year) at Artists Book House, Irving Park Road, Chicago, for a live storytelling event celebrating Treewhispers’ 25th Anniversary!

    Doors open at 6 PM, with stories from 6:30–7:30 PM amid the stunning Treewhispers installation.

    Bonus points if your story includes trees and the moon!

    Everyone’s welcome—submit your story for a chance to perform. Let’s celebrate trees and storytelling!

  • Apple orchard contemplation

    Apple orchard contemplation

    Photo, artwork and story by Kimberly Dixon, Galesburg, MI

  • Ally’s tree

    Ally’s tree

    Photo by Janice Kiska

  • Get Booked!

    Get Booked!

    📍 Booked: 506 Main St., part of the Evanston Wine Walk.

    Join the Fun at the Evanston Wine Walk!
    September 12, 2024 | 5pm-8pm

    Sip, stroll, and immerse yourself in Treewhispers petite, a captivating mini installation celebrating our connection to trees.

    Share Your Story
    Get creative and write your own amazing tree story on handmade paper rounds!
    Bring your love for trees, wine, and community! See you there!

  • Life’s path, friends and mentors, and the interconnectedness of trees

    Life’s path, friends and mentors, and the interconnectedness of trees

    Two years ago, we lost our dear friend and mentor, Christine Colarsurdo, a renowned calligrapher from Portland. At her memorial show, there was a poignant poem she had written and lettered about an oak tree, a fitting tribute given Christine’s love for nature. Her sisters later gave me the artwork. as a remembrance gift since I had planted a native oak tree in my yard. 

    Recently I took a class on Text and Texture with Yukimi Annand. Inspired by Christine and the poem, I chose the bark of my oak as my muse, seeking to imitate its patterns and textures in my calligraphy. The resulting piece featured the first and last lines of Christine’s poem, along with oak leaf stamps which were based on similar stamps that Christine made.

    Story, photograph and artwork by Marianne Nelson

  • Let the fun begin!

    Let the fun begin!

    Book Arts in the Park

    What a fun event at the Cook County Forest preserve!

    In addition to exploring nature you can also try your hand at bookbinding, printmaking, collage, papermaking and even book exchanges and giveaways!

    Take a hike in the woods and be sure to share your favorite story about a tree!

    What is your tree story?

    Did you climb trees with your friends to see who could climb the highest? Build a treehouse that was your refuge? Walk through a cool dense forest in the springtime or pluck a ruby red apple off a tree? Did you ever speculate on what kind of a tree we would be? Hmmmm. Oak? Birch? Maple?

    On a hot summer evening, did you run to a tree for safe base when you played tag?

    What’s your  tree story?

    Just as the rings of a tree embody the stories of the tree, so too we carry the stories of trees. These stories inspire us to renew our sense of wonder. They connect us to one another through shared experiences as they deepen our understanding to our connection with nature.

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Phawnda)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Phawnda)

    Phawnda is a lettering designer, author and instructor in Northern California. With farmers and gardeners in the family, she grew up around a lot of trees. 

    For 7 years, Phawnda designed promotional materials for 3 national food commissions of stone fruit and nut trees. Often, invitations to special events included hand-lettered envelopes to food editors on the east coast. 

    Now she especially enjoys a connection to the seasons of trees because of their similarities to the chapters of human life. 

    Phawnda’s four rounds are related to caring for her own dwarf Gala apple tree.

    “Trees are an inspiration for beauty, challenges, faith, and literature ~ a gift from the Creator.”

    Artwork and Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community cont’d (Sue Anne)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community cont’d (Sue Anne)

    Sue Anne Foster is an artist educator and outspoken advocate of inclusion. She has a BS in Interior Design, MA in art therapy, and a PhD in Education.

    A founding member of the international Labyrinth Society, her own 3 redwood trees are models of being rooted and grounded. She likes to touch their bark and hug them, even though her arms don’t reach all the way around. 

    Sue Anne brings her world travels home to the community. She has coordinated 7 Tibetan monks demonstrating sand mandalas at the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento. 

    “My round is a circle of life that reflects my heart and cultural interests, with the message ‘hug a tree and another human’”. The backside is an embossed 11th circuit labyrinth, an ancient path of pilgrimage, and is reminiscent of the rings of a tree.

    Artwork by Sue Anne Foster, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Sharon, Lauren & Isla)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Sharon, Lauren & Isla)

    Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson is a children’s book author-illustrator with two forthcoming titles: The Mochi Makers (2024) and Shell Song (2025). 

    Her current interest is in mixed media collages. These three rounds were created with watercolor, pencil, tempera paint stick, ink, embroidery, tissue paper, and cut paper. 

    They were inspired by the belief that all people, like the trees, belong on this earth. 

    Artwork by Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson, Story by Phawnda Moore


    Sharon’s two daughters also contributed:

    Lauren, age 9, is interested in art painting, mixed media collage. 

    She created this artwork depicting many of the things she loves, including nature and trees, which she loves climbing. On the backside, Lauren wrote a poem about “being you.”

    Isla, age 14, enjoys pencil and painting. 

    She created this artwork with pencil, marker, and watercolor. She followed the lines and shapes in the handmade paper with pencil and marker and paint then added water to bring out these patterns in the paper. 

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Pam)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Pam)

    Pam Avery is an abstract painter and ceramist in Sacramento, CA. With an MA in Art Education from California State University Sacramento, she taught high school art for 21 years. 

    She exhibits her art in the state fair, galleries, museums, colleges and hospitals, and has been featured on educational broadcasts. 

    A dancer, Pam brings a sense of gesture and movement to her paintings. Each one creates a space and world of its own through colors, shapes and textures to excite the senses while remaining light and airy. 

    Her round, with a monochrome tree on each side, embraces trees in the delicate drawings.  

    Artwork by Pam Avery, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Kimberly Louise)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Kimberly Louise)

    Kimberly Louise Bellissimo-Andersen brings experience as a successful fashion designer to her studio to create unique mixed media art, often with texture. 

    “I have always thought that trees are very magical and healing. If you listen, they speak to you. 

    My project began with the new AI technology called Dall-E. 

    I requested an image of Mother Earth as a Tree. I loved the idea of the Tree encompassing the earth and set out to create such an image with miscellaneous craft items on hand such as string for the trunk and moss for the leaves.”

    Kimberly also wrote a beautiful poem for the backside.

    Artwork by Kimberly Louise Bellissimo-Andersen, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Karen)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Karen)

    Karen Keys is a watercolor and pastel artist in Northern California. Her style is representative with a little impressionism. She loves color and enjoys the give and take of painting in two different media. 

    Karen’s painted rounds show a collaboration of words and images, one captured her own trees that were affected by the recent storms.

    “I have always loved trees. As a kid, I would go to my climbing tree whenever I was distressed and sit up in the tree just chilling. My first poem ever was called Tree. Trees feed my need to connect with nature.”

    Artwork by Karen Keys, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Janelle)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Janelle)

    Janelle is inspired by nature to explore her interests in painting and handlettering. 

    At our gathering, she shared that in Spring when the tulip trees are in bloom, she enjoys visiting familiar trees in the community to admire their annual show. 

    From this, Janelle painted a pink bloom and chose a quote about life for one round.

    For the other one, she brush lettered an encouraging Bible verse along with a painting of a tree of life.  

    Artwork by Janelle, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Eileen)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Eileen)

    Eileen Moffatt is currently working in clay with an emphasis on porcelain and making functional pieces highly decorative. She has also worked with paper collage; photography with tone on black and white, hand-developed pictures; and dabbled in welded metal sculpture. 

    Eileen used real buttons on one side of her piece, which brought back memories for many at the gathering.

    “When I think of trees, I am reminded how every season of their lives is filled with beauty. From the young sapling with first buds to the grand growth of a truly mature tree—each part of the year and each cycle is filled with beauty, always changing and forever expressing. I seek to be like the trees, growing beauty every season.”

    Artwork by Eileen Moffatt, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Debra)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Debra)

    Debra Brown is a pharmacist who’s approaching retirement to pursue creative interests. She’s exploring watercolor, charcoal and drawing and has also dabbled in mixed media collage.

    Debra’s interpretive rounds, both excerpts from Mary Oliver poems, are both literal and figurative. She likes poetry that uses the setting of the natural world to speak about living our lives. 

    “In one round, I chose to use watercolor as the entrance to the door of the woods. In the Zentangle piece, I let the various patterns interpret how life can change and go in different directions, and still be a beautiful result.”

    Mary Oliver’s poems inspire me to connect with the beauty and serenity of nature whenever possible.”

    Artwork by Debra Brown, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Connie)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Connie)

    Connie Burdick works with dry felting in animals, mixed media, using scraps of all kinds, building with coils or slabs of clay for whimsy and practical uses, drawing and watercolor. 

    She painted a lighthearted tree and included some interesting facts about trees on the other side of her piece.

    “I love trees and the bounty they provide to both humans and wildlife. In His wisdom, God has provided us with earth, water, plants, and wildlife. Trees play an integral part of our life on this planet. We need to be kinder to nature and to each other if we are to continue to survive. Meeting the other women filled my heart with much hope for the future of mankind and our world.”

    Artwork by Connie Burdick, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Anne)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Anne)

    Anne Bradley is an art consultant, exhibit judge, and instructor in Northern California. She has been the featured artist at the KVIE Art Auction and has won numerous awards for her innovative paintings and sculpture for over 30 years.

    An adventurous and creative spirit, she’s attracted to welding and casting bronze and aluminum, not only as sculpture but also with her abstract painting 

    Anne’s collage and mixed media art inspires people to take another look at familiar, often organic objects around them and see them in a different light.

    Artwork by Anne Bradley, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Adriana)

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community, cont’d (Adriana)

    Adriana is finally listening and tending to the voice of the artist deep within that’s been trying to get her attention for years. She’s taking classes in many types of media and particularly enjoys collage for the excitement of repurposing existing images to enhance each other ~ ultimately creating something beautiful and entirely new. Examples shown are her postage stamp spiral design, a nostalgic collage and poem, and stitchery.

    Adriana has had a love for trees ever since childhood, when climbing to the top of a ginkgo tree was her “happy place”. Now, she finds both magic and comfort when amongst a grove of redwoods or bristlecone pines, where time simply evaporates.

    Artwork by Adriana, Story by Phawnda Moore

  • Sharing the Love of Trees in Community by Phawnda Moore

    Sharing the Love of Trees in Community by Phawnda Moore

    In 2023, many trees in the United States were affected by historic winter storms. In California, it was brutal. Week after week, national news sites showed huge trees completely uprooted, some landing on parked cars and homes, sending frightened residents to seek shelter elsewhere. 

    Sadly, in previously years we’ve made headlines with our state’s devastating wildfires. 

    Here in Sacramento, one way or another, we’re known for our trees. There are approximately 1 million trees within city limits on both public and private property. Sacramento is a Sterling Tree City USA and is rated one of the top 10 urban forests in the country. No wonder that since the early 1900s, the capital is called “The City of Trees,” along with a more recent branding of “America’s Farm-to-Fork Capital.”

    “Sacramento, Calif.’s main attractions include a 33-mile bike trail and the picturesque Capitol Park surrounding California’s State Capitol, which features 450 varieties of trees and flowering shrubs; recently completed a best management practices study; has a strong volunteer base; each year, one of the city’s electric utilities and a nonprofit partner to plant 13,000 trees on private property that will provide shade to homes and reduce energy demand.” https://www.bdcnetwork.com/10-us-cities-best-urban-forests

    But as the raging storms moved through neighborhoods, battering thousands of trees, it also rekindled memories of trees in its residents. I’m one of them, a native, with 15 trees in my small yard.

    One day I remembered Treewhispers’ mission: “to awaken our heartfelt connection to trees.” Years ago, I’d contributed a “round” and now I felt that nudge again. 

    I reached out to art groups with an idea and soon, kindred spirits went to work! Our venture was such a pleasure that I’m glad to share how it worked for us, and hope it might inspire you to consider spreading the word, too.

    Begin with an introduction and an invitation:

    Send out a flyer to your contacts to introduce Treewhispers and include links to their social media sites.

    Show the end result: colorful, vertical exhibitions, strung with “rounds” of art that travel to U.S. hospitals, colleges, gardens, churches, libraries, etc. for hanging. Mention that both sides of the round can be used, if they wish, since attendees will see the art from both perspectives. Stress diversity, originality and freedom in creating.

    Use a close-up photo of a round (I used the older one I’d made) for an example. It’s important to give a detailed visual to inspire those who are interested the project.

    Invite readers to make a contribution: poetry, memories, paintings, collages, etc. on handmade paper. (You could also hold a papermaking workshop if possible.) I found multiple sources for handmade paper rounds, which the artists picked up to work on in their own studio.

    Plan ahead for a completion date:

    Give an estimated timeframe. Be sure to have a contact person listed with email, phone, etc. For the return of the completed rounds (allow 4-6 weeks or so), invite everyone to gather together for show and tell, the best part!

    Celebrate trees:

    Bring out a festive charcuterie board and some bubbly! I also took photos of the artists and their pieces. Our social gathering was really meaningful. Each artist described their attraction to trees and briefly explained their unique, creative process. It opened our eyes and hearts to seeing others’ appreciation of trees. 

    We’re all excited to send our rounds to Treewhispers to connect to a larger community of tree lovers.

    Stay tuned in the coming days to meet the contributing artists, who shared their thoughts and processes.

  • I’D RATHER WRITE OR PAINT

    from Martha Slavin’s Postcards in the Air

    Watercolor sketch of the Italian countryside

    When we cleaned out our attic last week, I rediscovered my art portfolios from long ago including an unopened package from my parents that to my disbelief contained examples of my school years work from kindergarten to college that my dad had saved. Like father, like daughter. I had to laugh at this generational inclination to record our histories. I had done the same thing for our son.

    Early drawing of trees

    These old drawings intrigued me because I noticed a stream of subjects that held my interest from one year to the next. I drew dozens of trees, many women in fashionable outfits, and figures from weddings. In high school and college, I filled large newsprint pads with drawings of models in every position imaginable. I created a zillion graphic designs as well.

    Tree Studies in 2021

    I have been amazed at the quantity of work, which as I leafed through the stacks of paper, helped me to see my progression from awkwardness to confidence as an artist. If only we all had such similar detailed information to look back on for signs of our growth in other areas of our life, we could say to ourselves, “Good enough.”

    Leaf studies

    I thought of my mantra: “practice, practice, practice,” and realized I had done just that. Now my question is: what do I keep?

  • Observations in Nature

    Observations in Nature

    Three Exhibitions Continue…More Observations in Nature!

    Three Exhibitions to Explore in One Place! The new exhibition “Tree Time + Silos” by artist Amanda Love presents a photographic documentation of the prehistoric and endangered species, The Metasequoia (or Dawn Redwoods) with a sneak peak at “Silos” an outdoor exhibition also inspired by the Dawn Redwoods coming this fall. “Treewhispers” displays a “forest” of handmade paper and artistic exploration honoring trees by Pamela Paulsrud and the late Marilyn Sward. “It Sounds Like Love” by artist Cadine Navarro creates a place of encounter with native Ohio prairie seeds.

  • Christmas Baby

    Christmas Baby

    Story and art by anonymous “Christmas Baby”

  • Transcripts

    Transcripts

    Photos by Pamela Paulsrud

  • Shared visions

    I never cease to be amazed and delighted by the creative stories and art that are shared!

    There were two trees.

    They are friends.

    They have a bird friend too.

    Although they can talk to each other through their bird friend.

    They cannot play or touch each other.

    There was a road in between them.

    Then they both grew up.

    And one day they can touch each other’s leaves and branches.

    They are happy now.

    They brid friend sings a song for them.

    SDG

    I climbed a tree almost.

  • Where the owl lives

    Handmade paper and Mary Oliver story revered by Emilie Eklund, Grand Rapids, MI

    In anticipation and celebration of the upcoming 2023 exhibition at Audubon, I’m combing the archives to honor the commensalistic relationship of birds and trees.

  • Grama’s Orchards

    Grama’s Orchards

    Handmade paper and artwork by Kaligrafos Guild member/Dallas /Fort Worth Metroplex

  • Creativity abounds

    Creativity abounds

    Book and Literary Arts Afternoon organized by Artist Book House at Evanstonmade provided one of many opportunities to engage with the artists and the art at 921 Church Street, Evanston, IL.

    Evanstonmade will continue to host events through Dec. 19. Join the fun!

  • Kaligrafos Calligraphy Guild

    A long awaited for and incredibly breathtaking capture of the Kaligrafos – Calligraphy Guild journey with Treewhispers.

    Congratulations to Thomas Burns, the Council of Oaks and a multitude of Kaligrafos – Calligraphy Guild enthusiasts. Your narration, photos, videos, and sound/music choices beautifully unveiled the many months of dedication to the project—and truly its essence—the connection we have with one another—and trees, of course.

    My heartfelt gratitude for your continued dedication and perseverance even—and especially— in the face of disappointment. The unique approach to the virtual exhibition in the woods (a collaboration with the trees—how perfect!) will surely touch others in a way that a gallery exhibit might otherwise not.

  • “Exploring Calligraphic Lines Thru the Trees

    I LOVED doing my “Exploring Calligraphic Lines Thru the Trees” Workshop. 

    I enjoyed giving them a new project each week of different tree styles & techniques. They all picked their own wording to go with each design.


    Students have sent fabulous feedback and are still posting – we have a FB group for them. So happy that it went well!! I would love to do it again for other groups in the future.  


    I truly believe, we were all connected because of the subject – everyone had such a beautiful feeling for the trees and the energy they all brought to the class. I was blown away and truly amazed.

    Artwork/Text by Barbara Close

  • Goguac Lake

    IMG_9338

    I was lucky enough to grow up on a big lake outside Battle Creek Michigan. Our house faced sunset and my dad and I enjoyed watching sunsets and changes in weather together.

    One of the most beautiful things about living on Goguac Lake (an old Indian name), was the amazing tree cover. The whole area had beautiful tall, mature trees that had been there for a long, long, time. In the summer there when it was hot and steamy, as we drove up to the house the air temperature was at least ten degrees cooler up by the house, thanks to the trees. We were very aware of what a gift it was to live where we did under those big, beautiful trees.

    IMG_9340

    Text and art by Kathy McCreedy, Michigan

  • Last night the moon…

    IMG_0185

    Artwork by Linda Bravata

  • Riley, Luke, and I sitting in a tree.

    IMG_5815 copy

    Handmade paper and artwork by Mason

  • intrusion

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

    intrusion
    by Amy Oestreicher
    1/28/15
    POETRY AS A SPIRITUAL PRACTICE

    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
    Perfec
    t:
    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?
    Crumble-crumble-crumble
    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
    Settles
    Smaller gusts
    Internal pulsing
    Regulation
    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.

  • Outdoor Women’s Retreat

    The Center (http://www.thecenterpalos.org/) at Palos Park, IL hosted an Outdoor Women’s Retreat this summer. Tree stories were shared with some of the results below. Thank you Lois Lauer for sending these images.
     

    women's reteat women's retreat 2 women's retreat 3

  • Seasons Rewound

    I wanted to share an incredible project relating to trees entitled “Seasons Rewound”—and the artists who created it, Barbara Pankratz and Barbara Johnston, both from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

    They described it as a book five feet tall with an open back page spread that is 7 feet across. They used paper called weed block that they were able to purchase in 25 feet rolls, 3 feet across. They built all the pages then drew, painted and cut. There are three layers, the background layer, the tree layer then a little layer in the front with seven openings. The covers are matt board covered with painted canvas.

    They mentioned that they spent one day a week for three years working on it. As they said it really was all about the process—they were not really concerned about the end product and they both felt the book literally made itself.

    It was a wonderful collaboration. In their words: “The natural world is at the heart of everything we both do creatively. This oversize book was our attempt to represent a deep emotional and sensory connection to the changing seasons and to communicate our “larger-than-life” enthusiasm for the stunning visual experience this constant cycle affords.”image001 image002 image003 image004

  • It’s not too late to send in your tree story!

    At the Legacies II Conference in Dallas, Tom Burns kindly shared his contribution to the Treewhispers project. Beautiful! Thanks Tom!!! IMG_5613 2

    IMG_5826Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

  • Sapling!

    I wanted to share the buzz at The Center in Palos Park, IL both in appreciation—and as inspiration to others, highlighting various ways of embracing the Treewhispers project. The Center has chosen opportunities to present papermaking, storytelling and guided walks. They are “growing their forest” of paper rounds having had instructions for stringing so that in the end it will be included in the upcoming installations and be consistent with the other “trees”. (Please contact me for these instructions and materials should you be interested in doing the same.) And so, with great excitement may I present the letter from Lois!
    Hi Pam—We continue to enjoy the ongoing Treewhispers project at The Center. At the Little Art Show on May 25, we let folks make their own little 3″ circles of paper–they were so quick to dry with an iron that they could write and draw right away–and we strung them up—and called it our “sapling!”  Then this last weekend at our Outdoor Women’s Connecting With Nature Retreat we used pre-made handmade paper, but really enjoyed everyone drawing and writing on their disc.  The ladies were really into their memories of trees significant to their lives.  We strung them right on the spot, hung them from a tree branch, and had our closing circle ritual around our tree trunk of memories!  I really like this idea of a progressive forest being made as we progress through the summer.  I think by September, we will have a very impressive looking display to appreciate and then to send off to add to your collection.
    Little art show photos attached.   Retreat photos to follow.


    Lois Lauer
    Program Director at The Center (http://www.thecenterpalos.org/)
    12700 Southwest Highway, Palos Park, IL 60464 

    Little Art Show sapling 2 Little art show

  • Every leaf

    IMG_1837

    Photo by Lois Lauer—from The Center in Palos Park, IL

  • A Little Art Show

    This Sunday, May 25, 1-3 p.m. at The Center in Palos Park, IL we are having a Little Art Show of tiny artworks and will give guests an opportunity to make tiny circles for the Treewhispers Project. You’re invited to join us!

  • Earth Day 2014 at The Center in Palos Park, IL

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    What an honor to spend Earth Day at The Center in Palos Park, a place “of celebration, enrichment, and healing—meeting others who shared a love for trees. Thank you to Lois Lauer for the invitation to introduce the Treewhispers project, to Marilyn VandenBout for her expertise in paper-making and to all those who so graciously shared their time and their stories. Stay tuned to see how you too can get involved with The Center’s partnership with Treewhispers.

  • In memory

    I wanted to honor my dad on this Earth Day—he planted so many trees—some say, whether you wanted them or not!

    Thought I would share this artwork that I did for him on his birthday back in 1993. The quote, “He plants trees for another generation” is from Caecilius Statius, 220 B.C. The image is a hand-colored photo transfer of a tree belonging to my neighbors, Barb and Ed. If I remember right their son Matt brought the seeding home on Arbor Day. It was planted in their front yard and today it is a beautiful towering specimen. Makes me smile.

     

    New-Art

     

  • Maple Town (for Dad)

    The oldest trees in town
    are now mostly gone
    those that stood
    in the hey-day of
    the best of times

    Grew with the first streets:
    Oak street, Pine Street, Elmwood,
    Maple town, Mapleton

    They shaded the shiny promise
    of bustling new businesses
    when we sold three colors of tractors
    and all the autos offered by Detroit

    Willows lined the tortuous fairways
    of the rich bottomland along the Maple River
    trees aligned to foil the failed golf shot

    Tall pines in the city park attended the
    a perfect playground: branches
    that would shelter our children in a safe haven.

    Trees for ball parks, the swimming pool,
    a Main Street with a bakery, a soda
    fountain and a movie theater

    Trees that stood watch over
    our bastion of churches
    where we learned of the next world
    and gained faith in the good
    to be found yet in this one

    Red and yellow leaves in autumn
    would swirl about your feet
    as you walked with the ones you loved

    In spring the tree planters would
    kneel down again and mix the new roots
    with the soil’s stuff of living and dead

    With hope, love and a belief
    that the trees–and this town–
    would live forever.

     

    —John Walter

  • IMG_9064Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

     

  • Eglé

    Eglé
    …is the first Lithuanian word I heard my two year old daughter say. She pointed to the small fir tree my father planted in the front yard that day. “What dat Pop-Pop?” “Eglé, Marija,” was his reply. Marija came to me, took me by the hand and brought me to see the fir tree. She fondly touched the tree with those small baby hands, gave it a kiss followed by a giggle, since it tickled her face and said with a radiant smile, “Eglé, Mommy!”
    (a small fir tree, personified, through the eyes and imagination of a child).

    pronounced egg-le

    Contributed by B. Gudauskas, Philadelphia, PA

  • Sing!

    IMG_5474Artwork by Rosie Kelly

     

  • Leslie’s First Tree Story

     

    Another story told to and recorded by the Court Reporter

    1 LESLIE’S FIRST TREE STORY

    2 In 1996 I was — I was pregnant with a baby. And she

    3 and I got sick. She passed after she as born. And

    4 we moved shortly after to a new home. We had to

    5 move. And in order to heal, I found myself trimming

    6 underneath this huge evergreen tree that was in the

    7 very front of our yard. It was very close to the

    8 house. And in time, to recover, I was really sick

    9 from it. It took about a year. And I stayed

    10 underneath the tree. And just no one had ever

    11 trimmed it, and it was just huge (indicating) and

    12 tall. So I would just climb up and trim the dead

    13 branches.

    14 And then we moved from there, and eventually someone

    15 bought that home. And then I saw that that tree was

    16 up for an option for the Botanic Garden. They were

    17 looking for a Christmas tree, and they had their eye

    18 on three different trees in the area. And they ended

    19 up choosing that tree. And so it was like in the

    20 newspaper. They cut it down. It was very close to

    21 the house. And so they brought it to the Botanic

    22 Garden. And they put, like, 10,000 Italian lights

    23 on. And it was the Christmas tree for that year

    24 And I called up the woman who ran it, and I said

    OFFICIAL COURT REPORTERS –

    2

    1 that’s a really special tree to me. And I told her

    2 my daughter’s name, Zahava, and she called it

    3 Zahava’s tree. And we visited, and we took a

    4 picture.

    5 Then many many years later, as I was working with an

    6 intuitive, clearing different things, she said to me,

    7 “Well, I know that you are Jewish, but there’s this

    8 Christmas tree, an evergreen tree, crumpled in your

    9 spine, energetically speaking.” And she said, “Does

    10 that make any sense?” And I said, “Yes, it makes a

    11 lot of sense.” So, I told her what my connection was

    12 to that, and we cleared the tree, the tree — all the

    13 gifts the tree had given to me, and its connection to

    14 that event and to that time together that we spent

    15 together.

    16 There’s more to the story, but basically — I mean, I

    17 have poems about it and writings about it. But

    18 basically that’s one of the stories of being

    19 connected to the tree, and that it says in you, you

    20 know, you don’t go far. They don’t go far.

    21 Oh, I know what the connection is. Then there was

    22 Yom Kippur coming up, and Day of Atonement. And I

    23 went to a river, and I played the flute, and I think

    24 I tossed some kind of prayer. It landed on a leaf on

    OFFICIAL COURT REPORTERS –

    3

    1 the river, and it floated down. And then I went to

    2 the person’s house where this tree was. And I

    3 knocked on the door. And I said I need to just

    4 connect, make a connection with the place where this

    5 tree had been. You see that dip in your — you know.

    6 She said yes. They were the same couple that donated

    7 the tree. And I went to that spot. I think I

    8 brought flowers and I brought water, and I played the

    9 flute just to make our connection with the leaf full

    10 circle. That was it. That was the story for me.

    11

    12
    Contributed by Leslie Schechtman

  • I loved this tree…

    When I was eight or so I knew a spectacular tree. It green in a large open field where multi acre lots all converged. No one seemed to own it. I loved this tree the most on windy days, where high in its branches I could move in unison with its dance to the wind. Sitting way at the top, it was as if the rest of the world melted away and all that existed was unlimited blue sky in which to dream.

    Contributed by Barbara Palmer

  • Every season….

    seasons0001
    Wanted to share my final project for a course I took this term on Humanist Bookhand from PSC member Christine Colasurdo .   I have loved to draw trees ever since high school art, but rarely incorporate them with my calligraphy.  The trees are done in walnut ink with a fine point pen.  The color is all Prismacolor pencils,which I was introduced to by another PSC member (and teacher at CNW), Kristen Doty.
     Photo and artwork by Marianne Nelson 
  • Remembering play…

    Photo by Lindsey Pennecke

  • At the Fire

    When folks come together around a campfire…there should be time to just sit quietly and listen. For the songs of the fire are sacred!

    Those songs come from the spirits in the wood. They sing about the sun blinking on and off… they sing about the wind and the rain…they sing about the seasons. Their songs are part of the sacred songs of the Earth…given to us as a reminder of days gone by.

    The history of the wood is in those flames and in those songs…stories of the Earth…which will not be told again in that same way. And that smoke in the tree giving its body back to the Earth…its work is done…and its Spirit rises to leave this place forever.

    Watch that fire…there are Spirits in there…some you know…and some, you have never known. But they are like messengers and are there to explain things to you.

    Campfires give us that opportunity to listen…and to hear those special stories again. Ordinarily we don’t have the patience to understand the way trees speak…the way they form their words…the way they use gestures. Such things are foreign to us and we might be frightened. So they send their messages up with the smoke…and it is sacred…and it is part of our oral traditions.

    So when you are sitting around the campfire with friends…share this wisdom. Encourage others to listen to the songs of the fire; that they might feel that sacred message too…and find that deeper understanding of Earth Mother’s ways.

    Ho Hecetu Welo!

    An unknown Elder

    This story was by Rob Miller at the flute circle/Mitchell Indian Museum

  • Excerpts from “Grandpa Stories”

    Shovels & Wheelbarrows
    -Part 1

    Certainty knows no bounds when it comes to understanding my grandfather’s time with the soil, his shovels and his wheelbarrow.

    This was indeed a man who handled his shovels as if a prize on a shelf, a badge to shine on his shirt. His wheelbarrow was a piece of magic, the size of which seemed far too large for its travel in my grandpa’s car trunk. But those gleaming shovels, clean and free of dirt, and that larger than life wheelbarrow, seemed to go with him everywhere he and his Olds ’98 traveled.

    I imagine that coming from Ireland, from a land of rocks, and hills, and farming – with green misty views reaching to infinity – that he grew up with the land in him. So it shouldn’t surprise me to wake in the morning (usually some Saturday morning at 6:30 a.m.) to find my grandpa in our backyard. He would be planting his second –or perhaps even third– blue spruce (another thing I am certain was his favorites).

    My brothers and I would hear his wide deep digging shovel grip the gravely dirt – then would come the drag of soil to the surface – the thud of the earth meeting the mound he had formed. We would lie in our beds half awake, half asleep, knowing our grandfather was doing the thing he was most alive doing…digging in the land. More importantly, our backyard!

    My Dad and Saturday Mornings
    -Part 2

    Now mind you, it’s a great thing to be so connected to the land, but it’s another not to tell someone you’re feeling connected to “their land,” “their yard.” Oh yes, of this I am also certain — there were days that my dad would have loved a notice posted of:
    “INTENT TO EXCAVATE YOUR YARD FOR TREE PLANTING.”

    Collectively us kid’s, we would know our time of half-awake and half-asleep had ended — and when fully awake had arrived — when we heard my parent’s bedroom door open. First would come the light step of my mom in the hallway heading towards the kitchen, minutes later we could smell the sweetness of cinnamon rolls and icing baking. I am convinced now that this was my mom’s way of signaling a kind of “chore-warning.”

    Confirmation of this alert was given when my parent’s bedroom door opened for the second time. My dad had a way of opening their bedroom door – which pushed a gust of wind under each of ours – along with a way of stepping out into the hallway that declared a litany of chores that lie ahead on any given Saturday.

    Door Opening Sounds
    -Part 3

    There existed several proclamations within each of my dad’s door opening wind gust:

    1. The “let’s clean the garage” – door opening sound
    (of which the stories are so great in length & quantity – they would best be left for another day and another book entirely of its own).

    2. The arbitrary, “let’s all wake-up cause it feels too late to still be asleep” – door opening sound.

    3. The “you stayed out to late last night, so get your butt outta bed” – door opening sound.

    4. The “let’s have a party and invite lots of people – so get up and clean every dish & glass, mow the lawn, wash the floors, clean the garage, and oh by the way, let’s redecorate” – door opening sound.

    and of course…

    5. The gust of wind and sound combination of: “your grandpa’s here planting trees and I didn’t know anything about it…but you’re all gonna get up and help – before he digs up all the trees we’ve already planted and moves them” – door opening sound.

    Us
    – Final part

    Each of these particular door-opening signals would be followed up with the triple knock on each of our bedroom doors and the somewhat military-ish delivery of “rise – n – shine.”

    Indeed as time has passed, the years have provided me with rich recollections. There were important messages there for me – this was a lesson in learning about my grandfather’s time, which created my father’s time, which in turn r-e-i-n-c-a-r-n-a-t-e-d into something totally different in each of my five brothers and my own time. And in the end, regardless of our bodies calling for sleep, it was tree-planting time; for my grandfather, with my grandfather, about his love of shovels & wheelbarrows, of trees, the soil, and most importantly us.

    Yes, of this I am truly certain, it was about his time – with us.

    Short stories written by Linda Marie Barrett
    (Submitted in honor of her grandfather Michael R. Barrett, who arrived in the United States of America from Castleisland, Ireland – via Liverpool, England, UK, — aboard the ship Cedric on February 28, 1920.)

  • The Cherry Tree

    Contributed by Linda Hancock

  • The Dance of the Mountain Trees

    A Children’s Story

    It is told that hundreds of years ago there were small mountain folk, the Alyphanties, who inhabited the rocks and boulders of Backbone Mountain in Western Maryland. They were seldom seen, although local legend has it that on several occasions around sunset, right after the evening breeze had been put to bed and the air was still, you could see the mountain trees––the  hickory, elm, oak, poplar, maple and hemlock all dance and sway to the rhythm of a high-pitched musical instrument.

    It was the music from Nephod’s flute that drifted across the mountain. He always sat under his favorite old oak tree each day, and his melodies floated away on the winds, wrapped themselves around boulders, and brushed over the plants and flowers. The trees would pick up his rhythm, lift up their branches and then bend to and fro to the tempo. Even the birds would sing along with each new melody, and it is thought that even today they sing the songs learned from Nephod’s flute.

    Each spring Nephod would wander through the forests, stopping to play for the new trees that had sprouted, plants as they pushed up from the soil, and for the new flowers as they opened. He paused by animal dens to play for the arrival of new babies. Birds came out of their shells and butterflies emerged from their cocoons to his music. It is thought that Nephod’s gentle music was the reason the Alyphanties lived safely and harmoniously with the wildlife.

    One day one of the children, a 12-year old girl named Zinta, who was a strong-willed restless child, decided to wander off into the forest and down the mountain. She was tired of being confined to the mountain top. She hid behind trees as she went so no one could see her. Zinta knew she should stay within the boundaries where she could hear Nephod’s flute. Surely, she thought, it couldn’t hurt to explore the land below. After all, she could always find her way back home.

    The trees down on the slope squawked and moaned at her, encouraging her to continue down. “Go down, Zinta, go down,” they seemed to say. At last there was no music. Zinta had passed into the forbidden new world.

    She grinned and clapped as she looked all around her. There’s no reason I can’t be here, she said to herself, it doesn’t look any different down here than it does at home. But Zinta had no more time to explore that day. It had taken her longer than she expected to travel this far and until now she hadn’t noticed how late it was. The sun would soon settle behind the far mountain. She knew she must hurry back home before it was dark and her family missed her, but she also knew she would come back tomorrow and stay longer.

    She turned around to retrace her steps, but she saw no trail behind her. Was she facing the wrong direction?  She turned in a deliberate circle. There was no trail anywhere. Where could it be? She had just been on the path.  She took two steps forward. The ground softened under her feet and she began to sink into the earth.

    As she sank she watched the shrubs and vines move towards her. She was now up to her knees in mud. The forest crept closer and closer. The trees creaked and howled with laughter, their branches reaching out to touch her. “Now we have you!” they screeched. Zinta looked wildly from side to side for a way through to the trail, but not only was she already surrounded by trees, she was still sinking and would soon be buried up to her waist.

    “Mother, mother!” she screamed. Her cries of horror pierced through the forest. The Alyphanties looked around in confusion as her shrieks found their way to the village. No one had yet realized Zinta was missing. Some of the men rushed into the forest, hoping the screams would lead them to this person. Others worked their way down the slopes. It was Nephod, however, who knew what to do. He ran to the edge of the mountain and played his music as loud as he could in the direction of her cries. The music sped through the forest on the mountain winds down into the forbidden land. The trees down there, which had never heard music before, stopped howling as the melody brushed against their branches. They moved away from the path and then offered Zinta their branches to grab onto. They pulled and pulled, lifting her up until she was free from the mud. Nephod’s music then wrapped around her and guided her back up the trail to the safety of the mountain top. She knew that this visit to the forbidden land was to be her last.

    It has since been told that from then on the trees down on the slopes would listen to Nephod’s music. They, too, learned to dance and sway to its rhythm that floated down on the breezes. They, too, learned to live in harmony with the rest of the forest.

     

    Excerpt re-written from:

    The Great Cavern of the Winds:  Tales from Backbone Mountain

    by Denise Hillman Moynahan

  • Tree of life

    Contributed by Aga Williams

  • Joutras Gallery

    ©Chicago Botanic Garden 2012

  • Between the pages…

    ©Chicago Botanic Garden 2012

  • szept drzew

    Contributed by Joanna Zdzienicka

  • Tree roots

    Contributed by Diane Jerry Gold, Mundeline, IL

  • Tribute to a beautiful Siberian Elm

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    This is my tribute to a beautiful Siberian Elm, who held me from nothingness simply by her presence. Storms have taken limbs and there is little left of her once magnificent shape. But she forever reminds me of the power of all living beings to calm and connect us to one another. This is simply the power and the gift of life. Each of us has the ability to contain another, and what glory that brings to our world.

  • I go among trees…

    Contributed by Jeri Hobart, Iowa City, Iowa

  • Tree stories from the Allegheny Mountains

    With this project I’ve heard thousands of tree stories—most likely told for the first and perhaps only time.  I’ve heard touching stories of trees being planted in memory of a loved one, of how a tree saved a life by stopping a car out of control from plunging into a lake, and of course I’ve heard about the magic of spending hours as a young child hanging out in their branches. I suppose it’s obvious that I love hearing these stories of trees and how we’re connected to them—how they’ve influenced our lives.  I’ve always felt honored to be a part of this storytelling moment in time, yet sometimes secretly wishing that there were some way to capture these precious memories being told—so that others too might be inspired to remember their deep connections to trees.

    My wish was answered when Dawn Bennett introduced me to Beth Barbush, an artist, photographer, and story collector. Beth is currently living in Cambridge, Maryland working for the Maryland Humanities council developing public dialogues and programs around agricultural and environmental issues. We spoke a few times on the phone and  finally had the pleasure of meeting at the Chicago Botanic Garden where this collaboration began. Although she seemed inspired and eager to collect these stories, I wondered about the challenge she had in taking on this project having just moved to Maryland—but as the days and weeks wore on was delighted in hearing her experiences with others in her quest. (Now I’m secretly hoping she’ll capture her own story sometime soon!) It’s a delight to have these recorded interviews from the Allegheny Mountains join Treewhispers . Be sure to allow extra time when you visit. I know you’ll want to hear them too.

    Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

  • Shadows

    Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

  • Tree stories…

    Photo by Pamela Paulsrud

  • Spruce Fir Cedar

    ©Chicago Botanic Garden 2012

  • Even if…

    Contributed by Marlene Pomeroy, Cambridge, Ontario, Canada

  • A hurricane

    Several years ago a hurricane came very far inland in North Carolina and my parents lost many trees they loved very much, including a large black walnut. I made a table top out of one large slab and paper out of some of the bark, curtains for my house and a book for my father. A small mill operator was able to come to the land and mill many of the large trees on site into lumber that is stacked and ready to build with. Someday they hope to build a house with it.

    Contributed by Ann Silverman, Columbus OH

  • Heartbeat

    With my involvement in Treewhispers over the last eleven years I’ve heard thousands of tree stories — only a small fraction of them recorded here. When someone hears of the project I often inquire if they might have a tree story. Most don’t — or at least they don’t think they do — until I simply ask if they’ve ever climbed a tree or planted a tree or had a favorite tree… It’s quite wonderful to watch as they suddenly connect to that memory — truly, their face lights up, their body language changes and the stories spill forth. If someone is standing near, it often sparks a story in them. It’s been a gift for me to hear these stories, to witness the exchange — to see these shifts.

    I’ve also been gifted in hearing stories that are prefaced as “out of the ordinary” — the storyteller often remaining anonymous if they’re willing to share it on the site. I wonder sometimes how out of the ordinary these stories really are — if it’s simply a matter of stopping, paying attention — connecting energetically.

    Please enjoy this most recent story contribution. My heartfelt thanks for these stories, ordinary and otherwise!

    Have to share my experience with you that happened at the Botanical Gardens…I went up to a redwood tree (quite large) and leaned my back against it…almost immediately I felt such immense power in that tree…amazing…from deep in the earth…and felt the heartbeat.

    Anonymous

  • Have you ever climbed a tree?

    Have you ever climbed a tree? Do you have a favorite tree or a magical path through the woods?

    Join the Treewhispers forest of stories by sending your handmade paper rounds with your tree story/art/poetry. Your submission will be included in the upcoming exhibition Bridge and Joutras Galleries in the Regenstein Center at the Chicago Botanic Garden, Glencoe, Illinois, January 14 through April 8, 2012 as well as all future exhibitions.

    How have trees inspired and informed you?

  • Primordial Forest

    I have visited the Primordial Forest near the coast of Oregon. The Hidden Creek Wilderness has a stand of giant Redwoods going back two thousand years.

    It seems that few humans wander off the path into this overgrown untouched wilderness with Hidden Creek running through it. Even the Indians that lived along the coast and wore the bark for clothing, gathered berries and seeds from the undergrowth, were said to be afraid of the Dark Forest. Occasionally an old hunter enters the forest, carrying his rifle. The turf is moist and spongy from layers of bark and loam and old trees that have fallen over, becoming part of the ground. It is easy to take a step and sink way down. The smell is fresh and musty. The redwoods grow straight upwards, creating a ceiling at about 200 feet. There are signs of elk and bear along the river. One tree is charred by lightening, somehow burning in all this wetness. Inside this place there are no paths, and the trees are covered in moss hanging down, like old elegant clothing.

    Winter wrens hop along the ground and are difficult to see. The only sound is the owl hooting. American Dippers dive in and out of the river.

    Inside with the trees the silence is thick, palpable. There are no human sounds left, and not a trace of human presence. Just these ancient trees guarding memory. I say to myself, ”Nothing false can enter Here.”

    Contributed by Laurie Doctor

  • To A Fallen Tree

    I had seen it
    knew it was there
    huge and towering
    over our insignificant lives
    Living for centuries
    as the landscape changed.
    Then one day I drove past.
    They were cutting it down
    to make room for a turn lane.
    This ancient tree,
    four humans could join hands round it,
    alive yesterday
    today lay bleeding, horizontal.
    Time has passed.
    This morning, this very morning
    they have filled up their turn lane.
    A new lane is now far enough away
    to have saved the old wizened tree:
    But the tree is gone
    Probably the paper I’m writing on.

    Contributed by Marilyn New, Redmond, WA

  • The tallest living thing on Earth…

    Richard Preston is one of the only humans to have climbed Hyperion, a nearly 380-foot redwood tree that is the tallest living thing on Earth. Hyperion was discovered by explorer Michael Taylor while Preston was writing his latest full-length book, The Wild Trees.

  • THE GIVING PLANT

    MY FATHER AND MOTHER HAVE INSTILLED A LOVE OF PLANTING IN OUR FAMILY.

    The planting inheritance, a flourishing of the verdurous instinct…

    But it’s more to the relishing of seeing things grow. And sharing in that growth. My father comes from a planting background, as a farmer. Early on, our family bought a farm, some several miles from our house in Spokane — mostly hay, back in the beginning. But later, the family — including all the brothers, and Dad, brought trees to plant. And more trees. And more — till finally, the bulk of the land is covered in pine. But it was never about the idea of cutting the trees, but converting the land.

    Walking round, cleaning the land around the island studio, I see the many little plantings that have moved to permanence, after nearly two decades of growth. Here, too, are trees that have moved along — some, to growth, others have passed in the harsh and salted winds and rain. Cedars, transplanted couldn’t survive the shift from inland forests to more coastal weather.

    I’m seeing the inklings of spring, just coming. Little sprigs of green emerging – the hints that the fierce grasp of winter is shifting to the season of renewal.

    The nature of planting — the nurturing sprig or seedling — it’s a mutual gift, whether gardens, flowers, trees; but that gift, as I’ve seen in my parents, is as much a gift in the practice of planting, as the nourishing of green to the outcome of that gesture.

    With the sun shining, it’s a day that celebrates that transition, just now — glinting rays illuminate the far shore like a rule of scintillant light, shimmering in slivers.

    The waters, calm, still speak the whisper of the tides.

    Contributed by Tim Girvin, Seattle, Washington

  • I am the tree!

    I am the tree… there is no name for me … I am just the tree!
    My ways are ancient … symbolic of the connections between earth and sky.
    My roots grow deep into the soil; soil that is all that remains of my ancestors.
    It is all that remains … of anyone’s ancestors … and I know them all.
    For I walk barefoot in the soil; and the soil stores the remnants of every creature’s works.
    You are the human … do your roots live among the ancestors … like mine?
    Are you as dependent on … or even aware of … the wisdom of the soil or its long-term memory?

    I am the tree … it is but a word to me … I am just the tree!
    My leaves are held high … eager for the warmth of the sun and a gentle summer rains.
    And I cast my shadows across the meadow … shade for those who would tend my roots and branches.
    A family of Hawks has nested high in my crown …
    That they may teach their young to soar with Grandfather Sky.
    And I am honored for the air exchange we leafed beings … share … with those that have lungs.
    May our needs remain in balance! May our days be many upon this earth!

    I am the tree … no words, just a song for me … I am just the tree!
    Listen for the whispers of my song … carried by the wind at your back.
    There are many such songs in the forest, a different one for each and every physical thing.
    Songs that reveal the secrets hidden in every leaf and rock.
    Songs … like reference libraries … that share all secrets, great and small … worth knowing.
    It is the universal language all things use to communicate, it is the only true language.
    The language of vibrations … songs … still emanating from that very first day!

    I am the tree … I am the song … I am the tree!

    Ho Hecetu Welo!


    contributed by Rob (Wind At His Back) Miller

  • Happy 2011!!!

    Look at the trees, look at the birds, look at the clouds, look at the stars and if you have eyes you will be able to see that the whole existence is joyful.Everything is simply happy. Trees are happy for no reason; they are not going to become prime ministers or presidents and they are not going to become rich and they will never have any bank balance. Look at the flowers for no reason. It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are.—Osho

  • TEN YEARS!

    It has been ten years—TEN YEARS! — since the inception of Treewhispers. To have witnessed the many connections and reconnections that have been made though art and storytelling — and trees— has been such an amazing gift. If anyone wonders why my passion for this project runs so high, I would have to say it’s the stories I’ve heard from adults and children alike—spoken from the heart—funny, sad, profound and thought provoking; it’s the fingerprint of someone else’s passion in the artwork completed alone or in collaboration; it’s watching someone make paper for the first time and the ensuing grin; it’s the profound stillness felt while strolling amongst the trees in the installation—it’s the resonance, the connection. Sooooo many tree stories are told simply from my asking—many told for the first and only time. I’ve seen the delight in the telling. I’ve heard tree stories from those who thought they had none. It’s enriched my own life and confirmed the path of the project—yet at the same time I realize the importance that these interactions, these stories, connections fan out to others. It seems somewhat selfish to be the only recipient of these gifts. It is my intention that these best kept secrets be shared—that opportunities open and present themselves to others as they have been to me.