The Infinity Tree

Scorched, dry, barren, the desert wilderness sits silent, still, soundless, lifeless. Only the pale whispers of the delicate desert fauna can be heard. Whispering, softly a whisper becomes a murmur, gently a murmur becomes a sound before the faintest of echoes can be heard between; it begins. At first a drop, motionless.

Weeks pass, slowly, a drop becomes a trickle, trickling, creeping, a journey begins, weaving, the trickle meanders. With time it grows, a small stream flows, filling the cracks of the playa. New life left in its wake, the desert is alive once more, the sounds of joy approaching. A sapling emerges from the stream, twisting and winding it grows high above the ground, encircling itself, entwining itself.

A figure of our memories, a myriad of our existence, its infinitude transcends time and like the stream to the tree we breathe life into the playa. A rest for our minds, a shelter for our bodies, a place not only to remember, a place to never forget. As our lives become more complex, diluted by materialistic culture, we find ourselves absorbed in the external forces placed upon us.It can sometimes be easy in a world of fake ideals and counterfeit culture to forget what is really real to us, what is truly important.

Above the consumerist sphere exists a timeless space, our memories, our joy, our loved ones, an eternal, unbreakable, everlasting chain. The Infinity Tree is symbol of what can never be lost, what will always be found, and what makes us who we are.