This blog has concerned itself too much with trees, with verticality. One Tree and then Two Trees and the life and knowledge that comes from trees. There is a very different, horizontal logic in the rhizome. No King sits on the Throne. Of course, the process is the same but the metaphors are very different. And metaphors are all we have to go on.
Trees grow from this root system, but without the periodic flowering of trees the roots would also die. Yet all trees extend down to the roots. Only certain trees, certain blossoms, open up to the light. In the rhizome these all "exist" in potential at once. All plots, all colours, all scents, all metaphors, all archetypes. Everything in circulation -- melding, flowing apart, in simultaneity. This is the absolutely synchronous. Space and time at a single point which is not a point. Points are fixed and this never is.
Within the pulsation of an artery all civilizations grow and decay. So realized Blake. So realized Milton. So realized Dante and Virgil and Homer. Rome falls nine times an hour. Here is a vast tree that, in times of great thirst, shrinks down to its roots for further nourishment and inspiration. But all magic happens on this level. Hierarchies are always just projected illusions. Odysseus has not yet been cast off the Mountain.
Inspiration and conspiration thus occur at the same location. Swept up in the flows of blood and sap. Anything above the ground is an apparition. Vast pageants, a whole year of ritual, signs and wonders, wars and rumours of wars, digital banality, fish, the end of the world -- mere seasonal foliage. And yet it is all required. Photosynthesis. Structures built of words, of spirit calcified into letters, melt when the foundations are shown to be just as transitory, just as shaky, as everything else.
It's interesting how cultural/situational these connotations and feelings are. Not that anyone knows whether the ancients felt "relaxed" under trees—but as I'm sure you're well aware, for most of human history, woods were dangerous areas to pass through. Robbers, hostile woodland tribes. The Stygian myth of getting hopelessly lost. Whereas clearings were the safe-zones where things were visible, literally enlightened since the sun can penetrate, able to see the sky and all around you, able to build and develop towns in such clearings. There's a baseline safety level needed to feel safe and relaxed, rather than on the alert, in a forest.Trees & mythology, trees as safe space archetypes in therapy, trees as climbing frames for kids.
I’ve never hugged one, but I rarely feel as relaxed while walking in woodlands. The lack of vistas hones your sensory focus input range right in, dappled sunlight, the sound your movement makes, being watched by a myriad of other consciousnesses. Rest points are demarcated by certain trees, an oak on a ridged escarpment that offers views & shelter, yews in church grounds to have your lunch under in the summer. Some of Britain”s ancient yews are well worth trying to engineer a day out to, spellbinding entities & locations.
I found a Wikipedia page a while back on "superlative trees" which listed a bunch like that; tallest, broadest, oldest etc.Do you guys know about Methuselah? It's the oldest tree in the world, or was til a recent discovery of a different ancient bristlecone pine. These guys run back to the 2000s BC
There are always some debate about which is the oldest. I think there is one place with like a grove of trees which, I don't really remember or understand properly, but it's something arguably it can be considered one tree and if you do count it that way it's like 9000 years old.Do you guys know about Methuselah? It's the oldest tree in the world, or was til a recent discovery of a different ancient bristlecone pine. These guys run back to the 2000s BC