GROVE: The Inner Trees
I imagine that these large majestic beings that have seen us grow must be somewhat perplexed about the evolution of their offspring. Yet, over the millennia, they have seen everything, felt everything, and experienced everything—our laughter, our tears, our sweat, and our beating hearts. They know our aspirations, our fears, our atrocities, and our foolishness. Like caring parents, they have always welcomed us with open arms to nourish and protect us, while, for us, it would be difficult to say that we have always thanked them. On the surface, it seems that even we are perfectly indifferent to their misery: the unfortunate exploitation by big businesses worldwide provides heartbreaking evidence.
And yet, nothing could be further from the truth. To be very clear, humans love trees. How could we exist otherwise? What child didn’t marvel before the splendor and might emanated from these unmatched beings? This sense of unparalleled security that we get when playing in the shade under the great lindens during the scorching-hot summers; this sense of discovery that is felt by climbing a filbert to chase the best-looking hazelnut, which would be hiding in the tree’s lush greens or go to war with a sword of hazel wood, of course, against the great pines of the hillside. Rest assured, these trees know perfectly well how to defend themselves as witnessed by the numerous scratches on the body of the fearless, yet gentle warrior.
Our inner child also knows to communicate quietly with the trees, knows how to recognize this communion which manifests itself so naturally through a mere rubbing of shoulders. Each tree which surrounds us is inhabited by a wisdom so astonishing that it splashes effortlessly and, all of the sudden, as if a magic potion had taken effect, we breathe better. We are suddenly capable of nourishing ourselves with their universal knowledge. From this deep understanding of the seasons and the cycles of life comes this confidence that, despite the harshness of the winter, spring will follow with its vibrant colors, fresh scents, and that marvelous feeling of rebirth where everything seems possible again.
Trees teach yoga better than anyone. “The tree” is a delicate pose, where one’s feet are firmly anchored in the ground and that allows one to, without reservation, extend their arms to infinity. This connection, this fragile balance between Mother Earth and Father Sky so precious to the Navajo culture, is one that the tree has always manifested for the rest of humanity to imbue.
“The Inner Trees” conveys all of this and more. In his very own way, Orlando lures us in a magic dance between tree and humanity. In this stunning choreography, the two families intertwine, kiss each other, hold each other’s hand, cry together, laugh jovially, play hide-and-seek, and then come hand-in-hand in a frenzied medley. From this poignant work, which shines by way of its intensity; by the beauty of its hidden messages; and by its capacity to let us live this unique complicity between two worlds of blood and sap, a tenderness of unfathomable depth emerges—a love more divine that no one or nothing could separate, not even God.
Magda and François
La Jolla, June 18th, 2015