homestead:

Theatre of Words

The Man with a Tree on his

Foot

the man with a tree on his foot

木Noël Christian

Nyrang Creek

homestead: Theatre of Words

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Once before the sun was up but the light was long and looming there was a man who went to walk with his feet out in the dew and because they both were bare and had nothing on to hide them the earth stood like a loving tongue and aroused them full and bright and about the time of sunrise and the time that he reached home his left foot was changed and fertile and was shooting with a tree.

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It was tall enough that he could be sheltered by the branchesand the leaves were broad and rich and green and made the birds fly lowand they entered in among them to sing and pick their feathersor rock a while in sleepiness or to rearrange their wings.

lazyla

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It bloomed with supple flowers that were wider than a handprintand butterflies and pretty moths became lazy in the scent.

lazy lazy

lazy

lazy

There were gatherings for pollen of bees in conversationand attention from red beetles that rummaged along the stemsso it was that wherever he went colours came and voicesand the energy of animals and visits from the wind.

inconversationinconversationinconversationinconversationinconversationin

inconversationinconversationinconversationinconversationinconversationin

because

All his life he had been busy with pleasantries and friendshipsand with cheerful games out on the grass and drinking in the puband he liked to hear the whistle of people in a greetingand he loved the little laughter that came from the times ahead

and he went to all night cafes and fashionable bookshopsand had his favourite girlfriends who accompanied him to teaand the nights were each as rich as cloth to wear against his face.

As much as the tree grew larger his foot became the lighterand somehow seemed to draw him on with a buoyancy and bounce

but he was most reluctant to be different from the othersand he began to keep away from the places he liked best.

He picked up moods and habits from the front of his computerand looked for zines and anime and for stories with a slashand he felt and he encountered in fetishes and photosand online files of K-pop clips showing pretty boys and girlsan arousal in his heart and the soft parts of his bodythat he hoped would be sufficient to dry the tree and kill itand the flowers be forgotten and the branches drop away

but the more he saw and listened and let his mind go freelythe more that things were beautiful and the more that they were strongand the more they filled his bloodstream the more the branches flourishedand the tree was always with him in extravagance of growth.

But he could not be lonely and he went outside to wanderand petals fell where he walked by and made bouquets on the streetand people turned to watch him in the places that he came to

and they opened up their windows and looked outward through their doorsand some who were not busy but were lurking in the shadowsput aside their subtle purpose and returned into the light

petals fell

subtle purpose

turned to watch him through their doors

places

and those with wealth who had nice cars and dresses of soft fabriclooked up from in their gardens and their associates and wineand the hungry under benches and the frightened and the pooruncovered themselves from hiding to the welcome of the sky

and in amongst the people and the colours of their lookinghe felt the branches reaching out and a shifting through the woodand in all the noise and movement he realised that the treewas aware of everyone and had knowledge of their heartbeatsand could understand their silence and could listen to their thoughtsand nothing could stop it growing and nothing would make it go.

He went into a cafe in the best part of the precinctwhere one of the girls he chanced to love was sitting with a drinkand she opened out her fingers and leaned across to kiss him

but he was always mindful and he felt the tree beside him and he felt that it was joyful and was present in his lips and as the kiss was lingered he was solid and determined to resist the tree and reject it and force it far away

but as it was receded into emptiness and distancethe girl felt like a paper and there was dust beside her mouthand the more he hoped to want her and to be his own desirethe more her kisses came to him as a dryness without tastebut the tree was full and joyful and when he let it touch himshe was a world of wonders and the kiss was a world of stars.

木

When he went outside again the lights that shone upon his facewere like a mask that fitted him but was smaller than himselfand he could go and wear it pinching down upon his cheekboneslike an article of armour or the tag of a machinebut the tree was great and larger than all his heart and bodyand he was just a part of it and his strength was in the growthand he looked out to the night time and pushed away the darknessthat otherwise was closing fast on his forehead and his eyes.

this is how it seems to me this is always how it seems to me this is how it has always been when it has seemed this way to me so i see that it is this way and it seems so as it so seems to me that is this way so it seems to me this way

In the years that followed he was a man of wild adventureand was married to the woman he once kissed beside her drinkand he loved her in the deserts and on the shallow beachesand went with her to waterfalls and to places near the cloudand his children sat beside him on rocks out in the gardenand told him things as they grew up that he once had learned himselfand he picked up nights and days and he filled them full of motionand he let new comets go out free and run around the sunand the Earth went through its seasons according to his musclesand the joy from in his eyeballs made things shoot alive and grow.

homestead:Theatre

of Words