Kaethe Kauffman
Trees Glorious Trees
I grew up in Seattle with omnipresent rain and abundant trees. The land around our home featured a cherry orchard, with plum, pear and apple trees growing wild in the back. In early spring, pink blossoms covered the fruit trees. Decades later, after living in various climes, from desert to mountain top to tropical jungle, I discovered my meandering pen drawing pink trees, filled with the blossoms of an early Seattle spring.
When I was young, trees provide protection and nurturing. When I climbed them, they sheltered me from large neighborhood teen-agers. I felt safe with a book, aloft in the branches, grabbing and eating tangy cherries, tart apples or sweet plums.
Individual trees became life-long friends, such as a red-bark Western Red Cedar that was the same height as me when I was eight years old. After I performed a ceremony where I broke open a scab and joined my scarlet blood with the cedar's russet bark, I considered the tree to be my "blood brother". It now towers over our house, more than one hundred feet tall, and I still chat with it, like the older sibling it seems to be.
Recent studies show that the increased oxygen around trees, as well as the phytoncides (plant chemicals) they produce, benefit human health: blood pressure, heart rate and blood sugars lower. Anxiety, depression and anger become measurably less. Immune system strength grows. I intuitively feel this when I walk among trees and sit under them. I draw and paint all the trees I've known.
In my drawings, I often include the unseen aspects of trees: the sap flowing or underground roots spreading. I depict the sustenance a tree receives from the accumulated debris we discard. With years of our amassed disposals, a miracle occurs. Miraculous microbes transform our natural wastes (and some synthetics) into food for plants. I visualize these sacred processes in many of my drawings.
Besides providing emotional and medical benefits, trees absorb CO2, helping to cool our overheated planet. In this series of drawings, I honor trees, from the various climates I've lived in, that've personally aided me in my past. From tiny sizes to the gigantic, these helpful beings spread their benefits far and wide to help all of us.
I grew up in Seattle with omnipresent rain and abundant trees. The land around our home featured a cherry orchard, with plum, pear and apple trees growing wild in the back. In early spring, pink blossoms covered the fruit trees. Decades later, after living in various climes, from desert to mountain top to tropical jungle, I discovered my meandering pen drawing pink trees, filled with the blossoms of an early Seattle spring.
When I was young, trees provide protection and nurturing. When I climbed them, they sheltered me from large neighborhood teen-agers. I felt safe with a book, aloft in the branches, grabbing and eating tangy cherries, tart apples or sweet plums.
Individual trees became life-long friends, such as a red-bark Western Red Cedar that was the same height as me when I was eight years old. After I performed a ceremony where I broke open a scab and joined my scarlet blood with the cedar's russet bark, I considered the tree to be my "blood brother". It now towers over our house, more than one hundred feet tall, and I still chat with it, like the older sibling it seems to be.
Recent studies show that the increased oxygen around trees, as well as the phytoncides (plant chemicals) they produce, benefit human health: blood pressure, heart rate and blood sugars lower. Anxiety, depression and anger become measurably less. Immune system strength grows. I intuitively feel this when I walk among trees and sit under them. I draw and paint all the trees I've known.
In my drawings, I often include the unseen aspects of trees: the sap flowing or underground roots spreading. I depict the sustenance a tree receives from the accumulated debris we discard. With years of our amassed disposals, a miracle occurs. Miraculous microbes transform our natural wastes (and some synthetics) into food for plants. I visualize these sacred processes in many of my drawings.
Besides providing emotional and medical benefits, trees absorb CO2, helping to cool our overheated planet. In this series of drawings, I honor trees, from the various climates I've lived in, that've personally aided me in my past. From tiny sizes to the gigantic, these helpful beings spread their benefits far and wide to help all of us.
