Every time I leave the city and immerse myself in the countryside, my countryside, which is actually much more like a forest, I see this very old chestnut tree, perhaps over a hundred years old. It has two trunks, one dry and very old, the other younger. Years ago, the second was much thinner than the first, but now they’ve evened out.
The last branches of the older one, with the same roots, are skeletal, like fingers reaching into the air. They don’t scream, but they’re certainly not silent.
I’ve found a way to see them again and again: in black and white, with solarization, an ancient darkroom technique, which I recreate on the computer.
