Sigbjørn Skåden
FROST IN THE GROUND 2
VORST IN DE GROND 2
De winter perst takken en stelen samen, jaagt het sap de wortels in. Tijdens het staartje van deze lange winterslaap waden dorpelingen door de sneeuw het bos in om de bomen te kappen. Uit de bomen die worden gekapt sijpelt een boodschap door de schors naar andere bomen. Zet je schrap, luidt die. Volgens traditie kappen dorpelingen nooit twee aangrenzende bomen, tussen de stronken gaat het leven in de daaropvolgende maanden door zoals gewoonlijk, sap komt omhoog, knoppen barsten, bladeren flikkeren in de wind. Maar de boodschap van de omgehakte bomen leeft voort in hen die nog overeind staan, zelfbehoud wordt onderdeel van hun identiteit. Onder de stronken in de traag verwelkende wortels wordt op minutieuze wijze barnsteen gesmeed, versteende destillaten die ons eraan herinneren waarom wij wij zijn.
FROST IN THE GROUND 2
Winter compresses branches and stems, drives the sap down in the roots. At the tail of this long hibernation villagers wade through snow into the woods to cut the trees. From the trees that are cut a message seeps out through the bark to other trees. It says brace yourselves. Tradition is that villagers don’t cut adjacent trees, in among the stumps life goes on as normal the following months, sap rises, sprouts pop, leaves flicker in the wind. But the message from the severed trees lives on in the standing ones, self-preservation becomes part of their identities. Below the stumps in the slowly dissolving roots amber is meticulously being forged, petrified distillments that remind us why we are we.
FROST IN THE GROUND 2
Winter compresses branches and stems, drives the sap down in the roots. At the tail of this long hibernation villagers wade through snow into the woods to cut the trees. From the trees that are cut a message seeps out through the bark to other trees. It says brace yourselves. Tradition is that villagers don’t cut adjacent trees, in among the stumps life goes on as normal the following months, sap rises, sprouts pop, leaves flicker in the wind. But the message from the severed trees lives on in the standing ones, self-preservation becomes part of their identities. Below the stumps in the slowly dissolving roots amber is meticulously being forged, petrified distillments that remind us why we are we.
FROST IN THE GROUND 2
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