5/17/13



THE SIDEWALK: MY JOURNEY AROUND THE BLOCK
Project 2  •  No. 11

Rooted

Trees reach towards cold sky, 
standing tall and true.

Can humans reach towards cold truth, 
standing tall and vulnerable?





I stepped out my back door into a magical sunrise. It allowed me to see the true silhouette of a favorite tree.
It's misshapen form reaching with an odd combination of desperation and wisdom.








Even in death, a tree speaks beauty, truth, and love.






A youngin needed a helping hand.





I wanted to write a caption for this, but got stumped.
(Sorry. I just love bad puns)






This red bag caught in the tree reminded me of a heart in a rib cage.









And yet another heart.








The tattooed tree.








Cement or tree bark — you decide.