I saw the picture in the window of a shop on my way from work and knew there was something in it for me. Inside the shop, surrounded by other pictures it didn’t say much but I still had a feeling it might be an answer. I was not sure what the question was. Two days later I was carrying the print home, struggling to keep it close to myself, listening to my inner voices, almost expecting guilt to start its reporoaching chant: “So again you couldn’t help purchasing something, you went along with your desire“. Nothing. Silence inside. “No?”. “Nope!”.
I found a perfect spot for the picture in the living room, stepped back to have a better look at it and unexpectedly exhaled as if I dropped a heavy weight off my shoulders. I soon realised I was standing in the room smiling. At that moment I knew the answer. It didn’t take me long to figure out the question.
The burden that fell off my shoulders was the burden of not knowing. It’s been tough not to know almost anything, seeing things going (seemingly) in the same way and yet being aware that anything or everything can change any moment and being sort of cool with it.
The second arrival is quite fresh. Having put together some cash I ordered a tree that was easier to handle for beginners and that had known hands of professionals. We are almost the same age, this Chinese elm tree (Ulvus parvifolia) and I. It came by bus from Gothenburg and I already had a couple of talks with the (now) former owner who assured me I could call in cases of emergency (those people are true professionals and amazingly warm hearted).
Apparently, it needs a hair cut already, at this stage looking like a Norwegian troll. For the rest of the century I will be learning a bunch about styling, pruning, wiring, feeding and watering and all other technical stuff but it is not only the hows that are of interest to me but the whys.