The tree starts as a soft sprout, barely breaking the ground. It grows and branches out, surviving the first harsh winter. Year after year it grows, with every branch, the trunk supports it with new strength. As the branches stretch into the sky, the trunk is forgotten and left behind. Though the trunk in all it’s strength is seen as only a beginning, it supports both branch and root, careful to not neglect either. The branches are caressed by the gentle wind and the roots embraced by the dirt, but the trunk stands alone in the sun always doing its work. The branches can’t grow an inch without the trunk feeling it and growing as well, and yet it is forgotten. Some branches grow closer to the tree and sprout many more other branches, these are much larger than the ones that sprout from them.
This tree has been thriving deeply in my mind for a very long time, I’ll let you find what you think about it on your own. To draw this tree, I took each stroke to the full, beginning at the bottom of the trunk and extending to the end of where the branch went at the time until it continued to stretch and fill the paper. I cannot even begin to explain what this means in my mind, but there’s so much to it.