Unparalleled
Nature

That looks like a bear...

There’s a tree
that has long been carved
into the shape of a bear. I have
no idea what the tree once was, only
what it is now. It sits in the yard of my
favorite house, once belonging to my favorite
people. Those people are gone now. The tree
represents transformation, looking closer, and a
sense of permanence among an everchanging world.
Rather than tell the tree anything, I would
question it. I would ask how my people are doing.
The ones I still love so much. The ones that
inspire every bit of thought, love, and care I put
into my work. The ones that taught me not to
look at something for what it is, but also
what it was and what it could be. The
ones that looked at a tree
and saw a bear.

Holding generations...

“If the olive trees
knew the hands that planted
them, their oil would become tears.”
-Mahmoud Darwish

When my dad passed away, I bought my mom
a small olive tree to honor his memory and
help fill the space of his absence. My
Mediterranean roots were grounded in the
tortuous body of this tree from the land
of my ancestors, reminding me of a culture
full of tales and wisdom. Caring for a
tree is a transfer of emotion and a
way to communicate with the spirits
of loved ones, a flow of golden
eternity to never forget
Joseph.

That provides refuge...

A beloved fig tree
stands tall in my grandmother's
backyard holding the stories of my
childhood. We shared many summers
together, me, climbing its rich green
branches to pick the best figs, and it,
cradling me each time I would almost fall.
This same tree protected my mother years
earlier, its interwoven branches served as a
home to many stray cats escaping heat, and it
survived a revolution at its doorsteps. If I
could whisper a word to it, it would be thank
you, if I could sing a song to it its melody
would be that of gratitude. Thank you for
all the times you supported me, gave me
safe haven and for growing with me.
Your patience is one I will try
to mimic in my life and work
each and every day.

With the most beautiful scent...

Lilac tree.
It’s a scent that will
always carry my mind, body
and soul back to home.
You ground me.

Guiding your way...

While I may have never
had the opportunity to meet
you, I’ve grown a relationship
to you through your strong roots
and beautiful branches. I’ve
learned that even the most
impermanent work can still
have a lasting impact.

That is perfectly imperfect...

A small magnolia tree
grew on the side of my childhood
home. It wasn’t big, and it wasn’t
the most beautiful. When the petals fell
off, they collected in the mud below, along
with bugs and old decaying logs which provided
the perfect set for playing “witch.” It had
one strong limb that let me climb and sit on
it and kept me shaded. I’d thank that tree for
providing a secret place to be alone. And
for showing me you don’t have to seem
perfect to be perfect in the eyes
of someone who needs you.

Reaching into the wind...

It is a big tree,
ubiquitous in Asia, banyan to
be exact. It spreads laterally
by aerial prop roots that mature
into thick trunks. It resembles
my way of experiencing the world,
absorbing nutrition from trying
and exploring. Flowing with the
wind and embracing what the
world has to give me.

That’s a guiding light...

The Japanese maple
in front of my childhood home
was a guiding light and a constant comfort.
At dusk, when it was time to get home for
dinner, its fiery red leaves stood out against the
dim, neutral houses. If I could tell that tree
anything it would be thank you. Thank you for
allowing me to be adventurous and climb your limbs,
thank you for offering a relaxing seat in which to
read, and thank you for being the perfect backdrop
for 15 years’ worth of family photos.
The leaves were smooth on the surface with
jagged edges all around offering a natural
contrast that can be carried into creative
work. The maple’s bark was much smoother
than that of the neighboring elm trees
creating both an organic tension
and beautiful harmony.

Telling you to stand tall...

The London
planetree right outside
my house has played a significant
role in my life. It has been there
since my birth and maybe even before.
It represents strength and tenacity. The
tree is wide and its bark is brown. I once
peeled the bark revealing its many layers
and for me it was a reflection of life
itself. As we grow and mature, go through
rain and shine, we must remain true
to ourselves. The tree told me to
stand tall and remember
to breathe.

Elevating your status...

The horse chestnut
is more commonly referred to as
the ‘conker’ tree, and as a youth in
the UK we used to initiate ‘conker fights’
at school and around the neighborhood. The
bigger or more sturdy the conkers, the more
gravitas and clout you had in the playground.
My aunt and uncle worked on a private country
estate with endless conker trees, which meant my
conker game was the best in the school. Such a
small thing, but it felt huge when I was young.
I haven’t seen a conker tree for years, but I
would tell it to keep up the great work. Also,
the conker itself is encased in a spiky shell
that took some real effort to remove. So, like
life, I’d say the best things emerge below
the surface and may take a bit
of effort to find.

Growing diagonally...

There is a tree
in the park across the
street from the apartment building I
grew up in. It’s one of many trees in
this park but stood out in size and shape.
It grows diagonally off the side of a hill,
making it the one climbable tree in the park.
It isn’t big or lush with leaves, but it was
the central gathering point for my friends
and me. It’s where manhunt games began, where
we sought shady refuge on hot days and where
attempts at showing off your climbing skills
led to many a scrape and bruise. It was the
least perfect tree in the park, which
looking back is probably what
made it the most
interesting.

With bark like paper...

We had a group
of three big birch
trees in our front yard
growing up that I loved. My
sister and I would peel the bright
white bark off like sheets of paper
and use it for whatever activity we
might be playing in the yard that day.
They also have seed pods that look a
bit like caterpillars and when you
squeeze them, all the little
seeds separate. Birch
trees. Pretty cool.