About the collection:
Sunnyvale 2007
In the winter when their leaves depart, I can see the essence of what it means to be a tree. Rooted steadfast to a small plot of earth, reaching to the sky with fingers that touch the wind, providing a perch for winged and crawly creatures who make their homes within your grasp.
I was struck by the starkness of these skeletal creatures, naked without their leaves, waiting for warmth of wind and sun to clothe them once again. Their curving tendrils into air are gestures of quiet, stately joy.
- Godfrey
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