Speaking as Trees

Note: This Blog post is a repost from the liminal Soup Blog.

I read somewhere that humans share 50 percent of DNA with trees. To compare this with our more closely related but still distant cousins, we also share 98.8 percent of DNA with chimps, 98 percent with pigs, 90 percent with cats, and 84 percent with dogs. On the lower end, we share 26 percent of our DNA with yeast and 25 percent with daffodils. By the way, if you are reading this, you and I share 99.9 percent DNA.

I bring up trees in particular because, not only have trees taken on a prominent role in 3 of my last 4 recent short films, but trees are central to many creation mythologies (e.g. Tree of Knowledge, Tree of Life, Yggdrasil). As a species, we’re obsessed with trees. Maybe it’s because they are some of the longest-living organisms on the planet and this affords them a certain wisdom. There is at least one 2600-year old Bald Cyprus tree about a 40 minute drive and two hour canoe paddle from my home in Southeast North Carolina that is older than Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism (among several other major world religions). Needless to say, this 2600-year old tree and several of its neighbors in the Three Sisters Swamp region of the Black River have seen a lot - weathered some pretty gnarly hurricanes and have witnessed a lot of shit - literally - from the upstream pig farms.

I am loosely referencing in the title of this post, the Dr. Seuss story of the Lorax , where the titular character exclaims throughout the book, “I speak for the trees,” as trees continue to be chopped down in the name of consumerism. Growing up, I didn’t know about the Lorax, even though I had encountered a lot of Dr. Seuss as a kid. It wasn’t until my son was a toddler and we adopted the book into our library that I became familiar with this parable. Since my son is now almost 14, needless to say, I no longer read the Lorax. But I have been reading another book; Ways of Being by James Bridle in which Bridle discusses, among several other topics, non-human forms of intelligence (including communication between trees). There’s actually quite a bit that’s come out recently that explores plant intelligence and communication between trees (see for example this article on the “Wood Wide Web”). So it appears that, though communication may be happening in a different realm, the trees are doing just fine speaking for themselves.

As I start planning my 4th tree-centric film, I’d like to explore the film from perspective of trees. I understand one can run into criticism when attempting to speak for others of another group or classification. But unlike the Lorax, I’m not interested in speaking for the trees but as the trees.

I’m not sure how much DNA Loraxes share with trees, but I’d like to tap into that 50 percent that I share with trees to get to the place where the tree and I are related. It may be some type of shared proto-intelligence that is neither completely tree nor human but something that encompasses both. This may seem like a futile undertaking, me trying to tap into tree-human consciousness, but I’ve gotten to an age where I’m alright going out on a limb (pun intended). After (academic) tenure, my films have become less a means to help me with job security and more a means of exploration. Increasingly, the films themselves have become bi-products of some form of investigation rather than ends unto themselves. At the same time, my projects seem to justify, at least to me, giving as much attention as I do to some pretty fringe topics because in the end I will have something to show for the deep dive.

It occurred to me, as I decided to venture into tree-human consciousness, that this practice could represent an antidote to more polarizing or separating forces that continue to stir things up for we humans. Sure, I probably won’t ever understand what it’s like to be a tree or even the person down the street but what if I could trace my DNA back to the place where the life form and I share a common ancestor and create from that vantage point?

I realize I am engaging in a bit of magical thinking, but great discoveries have come out of this type of contemplation, so what the hell. Then again, maybe my thinking is not so magical. It is scientifically accepted, after all, that we are wired based on how our species has had to adapt to survive over thousands of years. But when did that wiring began? When did our species began? It actually seems more “magical” to assume there was a clear break in the evolutionary timeline when humans became humans, so why might not our wiring also include pre-human behavior?

It’s worth mentioning at this point, where the interest in tapping into proto-human intelligence came from. First, I have to give some credit to multi-disciplinary scientist Bruce Damer. I listened to a podcast some time back in which Damer discussed a thought experiment that involved him tapping into his pre-human memories.

I have also had moments of pre-human familiarity. These tend to come most when, early in the morning, I kayak out to Masonboro Island (a completely undeveloped barrier island in Southeast North Carolina only accessible by boat ). I get a gut sense of something more primordial when in this environment. Maybe it’s the thick soupy salt air and the lack of human development. Maybe it’s also a lack of sleep (since I have to get up around 4:30am in order to get out to the island before sunrise).

There are layers to the visual field at Masonboro Island. Of course, there are the material manifestations: waves, gradients of early morning light, the piercing glow of sunrise, birds flying in v-formation, and so on. But there is also the dimension of pure color and light, not bound by form, distance, or time - that hints at another level of reality. I would call this the more pre-rational sensory experience. In these moments, I suspect I might be tapping into some B.A. (before André) experiences - if it’s possible that something - maybe in our DNA - carries evolutionary memories.

*Still (below) and detail (above) from “Revelation to the Disembodied” - inspired by ocean sunrise light*

One of the benefits of practicing art is that I can entertain these possibilities as something that can exist between the real and the unreal without the burden of hard proof. I wonder if truths, otherwise unattainable through concrete knowing exist in this liminal space. Science allows me to understand how trees communicate with one another and relate to and live symbiotically with the other organisms around them. I can also learn, through scientific discovery that I share a large portion of DNA with trees.

I wonder if there is a way of knowing, available through the practice of art and impossible thinking, that allows me to take those facts as a launch pad into otherwise hidden layers of reality.

Welcome

Films For trees