Saturday, March 31, 2012


I have been pondering,(within my urban/concrete/asphalt context always), about people whose origins were rural, hick like. Apparently, when moving to cities, they pretend to erase memories, any vestige of mud and dirt from their life/sight/past, as if there is/was shame attached, particularly if there was any vegetation in the surrounding scenery.

If you reader,  have  always lived in paved environments, cities, you would not understand, except in some academic, intellectual,  level what I am writing/talking about.

Think for a moment of those people who are/were forced to work, picking cotton, cutting sugar cane, coffee, or tea leaves--'Wretched of the Earth', as in that Franz Fanon book on colonialism--. Is there any other miserable way to earn a living than these mentioned, (except mining/fishing)? * Why would these men/women/children feel any empathy towards Nature, if the natural-human sychological* connection with it, is misery and exploitation in countries moving blindly toward progress?

This may explain the lack of negros into gardening and/or blogs in one hand, on the other the absolute disconnection of this people around me with Nature as a whole. 

What inspired yours truly to write these lines?  A documentary about some new mud highway in the jungles of Brazil with known results. . Once you build a highway/road destroying all flora and fauna on the way, a long open scar in the mud is left. 

Trucks, buses, all terrain vehicles with people follow. Logging, mining, soya plantations, cows and pastures. Asphalt/concrete. That is that. That is what is happening over there, the rest of the world not yet covered in both, with too many people working for peanuts, not working at all and propagating as by spores.

Back in the studio, when if I look up, I am trapped in concrete in every cardinal point, plus the collateral,  attached people, children, vehicles and city noise.  My  gardening, me garden, this blog and the others, are also a protest, not just a pleasant activity when there is nothing else to do. Or a hobby, a term I detest like no other. Hobby is one hell of  a stupid term when related to horticulture. Hobby is gluing airplanes and automobiles for example, an useless activity for all except the self, to place on a shelf to collect dust.

Before I continue digressing, I have declared my unwillingness to habitual pruning and its endless results. One of me Bouganvilleas in  the north garden decided not to follow rules, growing a branch  30 feet tall and crooked towards the West Virginia-Appalachian side of our residence.

It was certainly odd looking and/or ugly.  I worried that one day it would appear mutilated, cut in half.  I decided to bend like it Beckham. Now it offers a 15' Roman like arch view on top of the property line fence a seen in the photos.  

I used a quarter of an inch hemp cord,(knowing climbers would do what they are meant to) to tie the tip of the branch tip on the metal fence.  Another string from left to right, to balance the arch towards our property. It looks odd and eventually would remind imaginations without limits, the open mouth of a sperm whale feeding.

It is time to go. 

I feel this post is somejuat more weird than the average,  in terms of top and bottom. That is the way to go. To attach what seems disconnected, with some creativity. Imaginary or real.  Do not prune right away, there is always another possibility.

*Factories, in the third world,
 those in Europe, USA soon after and during
* ban the p in those words,
its useless.
 the Industrial Revolution?

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