What a glorious fall we’ve been having here in the Berkshires. I can’t remember the last time it was this colorful. In honor of this glory, I decided to hang the first installment of the “Here Stands” collaboration that I have been doing with poet Holly Wren Spaulding.
As I contemplated where to hang the words, I considered a trail near me that leads to the Cheshire Cobbles. This incredible trail leads to an outcropping of rocks from which one can see the entire Greylock Range. I also thought about trails in my own backyard, the only problem with that, is that only I would see it.
So off I set to hang the words on the trail up to the Cobble. My friend Diane came with me, (thank you Diane!) and as we were hanging them I voiced a number of concerns–this is public land, and someone else might think this is trash, or takes away the “wild” experience of the forest, would someone take them down, and how fast? I pushed those thoughts aside and instead thought of this as an experiment, how would it go? How long would they remain? Would they remain?
I wasn’t able to check on them for 36 hours or so…and when I went back, they were gone. I sighed. I knew this was possible, but I wasn’t prepared for the heartbreak I experienced. Who took them down? What did they think? Did they just throw them in the trash? Why did they take down the words but fail to pick-up the 100 or more tossed bottles and cans at the base of the Cobbles?
Everything is impermanence.
The spirit of the work is ephemeral. And when this has happened in the past, the same questions and sadness arose. Thankfully, I can make the words again, and I will.