Leaf

“I am a leaf.”

That’s what Geri said, with a smile,

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I have had intense dreams the past two nights.

Last night, I dreamed (with what seemed perfect clarity) about recent art and what it all means… insights (in the dream) in the middle of a war… exploding guns all around… enemies behind every door and bush… me: heroic and vulnerable.

The night before, I dreamed of my daughters… a dream with wishes for their futures built upon their pasts. More atmosphere than action, the dream dripped with longing, nostalgia, and love.

What were these all about?

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Dreams have their own strange logic. So I find myself thinking about humility and hubris… action and inaction.

Being full of myself is so much emptiness. But more than that, it is destructive. It dishonors… denies… some other I can never really know in full.

In a recent essay in The New York Times, Simon Critchley writes: “We encounter other people across a gray area of negotiation and approximation. Such is the business of listening and the back and forth of conversation and social interaction.”

My dreams:

About the truth, beauty, and pain of incompletely knowing… about the limits of love.

*****

“I am a leaf.”

That’s what Geri said, with a smile. She was referring to her participation in Autumn Leaves, the most recent (and personally consuming) project I am pursuing.

What does it mean to be a leaf in Autumn Leaves?

This is a project about recognitions and reflections, acceptance and celebration, about the splendor of who we are, flaws and all. Autumn Leaves is about being naked as a baby, fragile as a leaf.

An autumn leaf: worn away, glorious in shape and color. It is each of us.