where the Heat comes from

In London, on a Sunday, I found myself looking for shelter.
I remembered the Stoke Newington Cemetery was the place where with the FM gang decided to fly some helium filled balloons. Vinh Ngo asked us to free 9 booklets he made while touring Europe for "Anyway, your children will deny it". So we decided that it was the right place.

Anyhow,  I had some minutes before going back on the road for the next stop on the Holydrug Couple's tour (check'em out, as well for White Manna, last two bands I've been working with) and it was the 6th day of the month, actually my dad's birthday, and somehow I felt like I needed to give myself to the Sun.

Finding shelter most of the times in my world means finding where the Heat comes from.
You have to know that the Stoke Newington Cemetery houses some of the most beautiful trees I've seen in ages, old wood full of memories and hosting thousands of ghosts.

This post is actually only a description of me, laying my back on the wood of a tree, looking around me for finding those i knew where still there. And I will keep coming back for finding new ones as well. Arrows pointing the way. My Path has so many stops that when I feel it I simply need to find shelter among the Trees that I recognize.

The same Trees that on that Sunday embraced me in their heat and gave me shelter, for the nth time.

Columns: threat of progressive failure

to E.

I never thought that human kind have been using Trees to define a place where to worship Gods. This happened way before they started making stone trees and calling them columns.
I believe the Bones in our bodies before being the columns of our standing still were Trees.
When I lay my back on a Tree I can feel my bones vibrating.
In all the Trees, in all the temples of the world's columns, in all our bones, there are threats of progressive failure.
I can't help but liking the idea of my body falling down once my trees/bones will fail.
On everyone's failure you can say there is equality.
The sound of all of us failing, an ode to Failure.
Will write more about this.
Again, I like promises.
I received this pic from my niece, while she was on her first trip on the real Mountains. In her mind Trees are columns for keeping the sky to fall over us, and I love to think the same way.

We build walls

We will build walls.  There We will find shelter.

We will stand straight next to the Trees. We will know when it will all end. We will know where We will stand.
And You will say: I go with you.

Hey JD, what if Trees aree older than Life?

 

Listened to a John Denver' song while crossing Spain. 

He was singing something like Life is older than Trees.

I do not recall all the lyrics.

Once back, I took these Three pictures thinking of a Rising Sun.

I'm finally back home for a while.

Learning some lessons about Failure.

Will write more about this.

Anyhow, in my Cosmogony Trees are older than Life.

Death to everyone

 

Detail of the Trees facing the palace where Nuremberg Trials were hosted.
Whitnesses.
I rubbed and scratched my hands on their bark until I had myself bleeding.
A collective sense of Guilt may not be enough.
We Failed memory and History again.
History will repeat itself, unfortunally it's a thing we're good at. It may be the thing we do best.
There will never any peace for the ones who here represented a nation.
I'm just so happy Death will come for everyone.

Monkey Puzzle Tree

We raced among the Trees, knowing We could even fall faster (me).

We looked away from the Trees.
We woke up into brilliant sunshine, in a street of temples (J.G.Ballard)

Send me a Tree

And then C. Lee, while travelling back home, mentioned the idea of having in here guest appearance of pictures of Trees coming from other people, people I love, people who love Trees.
So I say I start again from her, from C.Lee and some pics she took while in London.
And then from Luca B., a dear dear friend who found himself looking at a Tree. And that moment became a routine, as W.S. Burroughs would call it. And so here it is. That is the last pic, and maybe there's some fire behind, but the Light is surely something.
You have a good one.
Spring is here again, tender age in Bloom.