Learning from the Trees

Reflections on Slowness and Stillness

As we near the winter solstice, I am reminded that the etymology of the word solstice has to do with the stopping of the sun, with stillness.

I’ve been leaning into more slowness and stillness in this season, taking time to listen.

My biggest project has been about honoring and amplifying the visual record of the life of a tree, something slow and still yet growing and wise.

I made this print of a large “tree cookie,” a horizontal slice of the trunk of a large oak tree that had to be taken down in my friend’s yard this summer. Lower down the trunk was hollow but the tree service cut this slice from a solid section of the trunk.

To prepare the slice of tree, I began by planing it smooth, then sanded the surface. Some of the pieces of bark fell off in this process so I fit those back together and secured them with wood screws so they would be part of the print.

Next, I lightly charred the surface. It was a mesmerizing process; the rings were slowly darkened and became more visible. It felt like working with the tree to reveal the pattern using the flame. After this I brushed away the burnt wood, revealing greater texture between the rings.

I then sealed the wood with shellac. The final printing was done with oil-based ink on a large sheet of drawing paper. I burnished the back of the paper with a wooden spoon, lifting to check my progress as I went along.

Burnishing with a wooden spoon, the texture coming through the back of the paper, and lifting to check on the print.

I am captivated by the rings, the variations and waves in places and the way each subsequent ring contains those before it.

Something about this quiet internal record of a life also matches my energy these last few weeks, I have been leaning into quiet, fewer words. I am drawn outside to witness the changes in nature in the shortening days.

In the new year, I will return to the edits on my manuscript, create my book proposal and begin the process of looking for a publisher.

For now, I am grateful to lean into time with creativity to just be together, to explore and play. This time together nourishes my relationship with creativity.

As we reach the end of the calendar year, I’m also reflecting on the ways I learn from trees and their slow, cyclical sense of time.

For several years now I have collected ginkgo leaves. Tracing a selection of leaves was the start of these woodblock prints.

The glorious yellow of the ginkgo leaves remind me how trees let go each year.

Each leaf is a thing of beauty and yet, all are released, they are let go to make room for new growth next year. Not everything we make, however beautiful, has to have a purpose, or even has to be kept. The ginkgo leaves remind me of the importance of creating for the sake of the process of discovery and the permission to let go of worrying about outcomes.

Card from Jessica Roux’s Woodland Wardens Deck

Badgers keep coming up in conversations and reading this past month. Friends shared images and dreams about badgers and Jessica Roux’s Woodland Wardens Deck pairs the badger with the ginkgo.

My newest crochet projects include a badger and a hedgehog. One friend suggested that perhaps I am moving from my sea creature phase to a forest creature phase. We will see. For now I am enjoying these shy animal companions. The badger feels like a good companion for the winter months. I’ve been inspired by the story of The Solstice Badger by Robin McFadden and by this painting of a badger titled, “A Prayer Making It’s Way” by Eliza Naranjo Morse.

I’m always glad to hear what is inspiring you too. What wonders are you finding in these shortening days and we head into the winter season? Are there any plants or animals that seem to particularly draw your attention?

Wishing everyone a connected and creative holiday season.

Thank you for being part of creative community through this newsletter.

With a grateful heart,

Kathryn

One more joy I have in this season is watching these projections of color move around the house as the sun moves across the sky.

And this stunning sunset on December 13…