As I knew I was going to spend a week alone, just me and the Forest, getting to know each other I brought with me an art journal to start.
To explore my relationship.
My hope was to create the layers of complexity that have been unfolding during my previous visits. Each time I enter the forest I see something new, or something I had seen before has changed... I have found I am taking photographs of the same spot of the forest several times a day, each time I visit... because as the earth revolves the sun squeezes through the trees and sheds light in a different way.
The Swedish seasons being what they are, means that the earth's tilt is also impacting the angle of the light. Days are getting longer faster... the sun reaches higher in the sky... The light between the trees shifts and changes in mood. My shadow get's so much sorter during the middle hours of the day than my winter shadow. I still find myself drawn to evening shadow photos... mesmerised by the extraordinary long legs, small head and shorter arms... the proportions are all wrong, especially if the shadow is cast on uneven ground, distorting it further... At first my journal was not going to have any words... but as I read Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass I am reminded of the spirits of the forest. The "grammar of animacy" the tree peoples, stone peoples etc... not that they are human, simply that they are of equal value... so the first image... the Black Alder's (of course) the area of the forest where I felt a strong connection immediately, became "the Black Alder People". And at the moment the understory is a bright almost glowing green, which contrasts starkly with the nakedness of the Black Alders... their roots happy in the wetlands, no longer frozen.
The Birches came into being because when walking in the forest and a gathering of Birches comes into a view the whole energy of the forest shifts... the lightness of their trunks contrasts to the darkness of the Black Alders, Pines and Spruces...
The Weary Pine, is a kind of marker... it used to sneak upon me, and I would exclaim, there you are, but now I know where she stands and can sneak upon her. She seems tired - arms stretched out, a cry for help stuck on te rock with her roots exposed? Or exhausted from helping others? I don't know her story yet.
Then comes my shadow... I labelled that skogsrå... it seemed appropriate. I have been organising The International Fairy Tea Party for over 8 years... children and adults around the globe connecting through the magic of play and imagination. The skogsrå is, according to Swedish folklore a Forest spirit, protector of the forest, feared by men. I will research her properly and write a post about it sometime in the future. The wind is next... "The wind spirits dance together". The wind has fascinated me... I have films and films of the trees swaying in the wind... watching how the wind starts in the trees far away and moves, tree by tree across the forest and past me... I can hear it travel across too. Not like I always thought... a constant stream of wind... but like spirits moving through the forest... When I listen and watch the wind in the forest I am frequently reminded of the cat bus in the film "Totoro"... (of course my pet rabbit is called Totoro, its a film well liked by my family).
Some windy days makes the lake shout. and REALLY shout. Some days it's just some trees, not even all of them.
The laminate background with leaves and petals was something I created with children about 7-8 years ago - the petals are certainly not pink anymore... and there are still little bits of gravel that did not get sorted out when the children picked up the petals and then eagerly arranged the “falling petals” artwork for our window.
Using that is art fills me with memories of those children - and the name of the group was The Wind (Vinden) - so it seems extremely suitable to use it as part of the wind page of the forest book
The final image so far made is "Momentary Molecules Meeting" and is trying to capture the fleeting moment of waterdrops clinging to the branches and buds on the cherry tree right outside the window of "my little house in the woods". Drip, drip drip. The seem to try so hard to cling on, but no matter how hard they try, they drip down and a new drop starts to form... drip drip drip. Short moments where the water molecules meet and then crash to the ground and are dispersed... who knows, it might be another millennia or two before these molecules meet again... if ever just those exact molecules! Even the molecules themselves might be transformed... maybe not the exact same two hydrogens or the same oxygen molecule...?
It is a reminder that each moment is itself - a ceasing to be and a becoming...
