Carving in stone or wood is a special art, a trust that the carver will not impose their will upon the substrate of nature, but rather reveal what is there. Did this tree scream as it died, as its once majestic height and girth grew frail and failed to take up nutrients? Or did it sigh a long exhalation of relief that its struggle was coming to an end?
Did it embrace that time when the fight against the elements of wind and weather, pests and pathogens, or the animals that chewed and gnawed at its very being came to an end? It transitioned to this new place and form–a hollow home for fauna, its molecules have become the sustenance for new flora, the sloughing off of bark has revealed its heart and soul.
How long did it wait for the artist? That fleeting being whose life span is just a blip on the cosmic timeline, to reveal its pain, its new majesty, and place it here for others to wonder about this struggle– of tree, of man, of art and of life. ~Minkee Robinson