Fragments:
"What I liked was being outside the physical labours of barrow and
bonfire..." Hard is listening to the Way all day working long.
If I listen Bohm right angled then in each glimpse is every other
enfoldmented. It cometh, goest, cometh again. And the spirit is a
kingfisher, like the one she glimpsed there, to their shared
excitementedness, just below the surface, jagged, smooth,
glistening...'-carries the moon, carries the sun but keeps nothing.' (The
River, of Alice Oswald)
Now into the old stormed oak tree, multicenturion he/she te-he.
Blast this tree.
"BLAST" Resurrection cannot be 'modelled', te-he. Etymology. Destroy and
wither. And from the Greek a '(m)nother derivation. bud.
bud.
bud.
An old tree covered in a blanket of new grass (not felt for Mr. Beuys) by
Heather and Dan
Listening to grass grow they grew new grass all over the tree..." As we
sat by Blasted Oak a child approached us, reaching out a tentative hand to
touch it, like a strange and rare animal...Heather observes there are blue
tits nesting in it and a barn owl and it is crammed with woodlice....part
of the trees great DOWNFALL."
A living art, like life subject to death. He leaps up to water it with a
blast;-) of fine;-) water.
"Blue sky shimmered in the sun as plumes of water spray the vivid green
over parched white grey, dry as old bones, making rainbows dance around
the man and the tree."
And the little girrrrrl;-) where, oh where is SHE.
Love,
Andrew
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