this honey locust is slated for murder. r. wrote a passionate plea for the life of this tree. i was thinking about all the murder and injustice happening, and what one tree, or anything saved, means. even to speak for life, and call attention to life lost, means everything. i told r. thank-you for trying. it makes me feel better that you tried. it's an act for life. by valuing life we preserve the value of life and raise the awareness that things are being wantonly and capriciously killed off, and illuminate possibility that some things before they are wasted may be saved. in truth this is the art of life, noting what has value, loving and preserving living things, bringing heart to careless happenings. and there is so much carelessness happening. if we can care about the life around us we place ourselves in the surroundings, in the care of others, in the continuum.
this honey locust is part of the garden, in the corner by the bus stop, part of the world. grown from a seed, nurtured by hand. it provides oxygen and cleans exhaust, from the buses that pass, from the tired people, it breathes life, and makes food for bees. so if it is cut down tomorrow, let us think about what it does today, and what this life means.

i'm watching the film beuys. he says,
"forget the conventional idea of art. anyone can be an artist. anything can be art, especially anything that conserves energy."