2022Dirt

DIRT documents [# 23]

Every year trees expand outward without us really noticing. As time progresses, their trunks become wider and their roots spread farther.

Over time they surround fences, benches and even buildings. Until these objects are no longer separate from the tree itself. Unlike people, trees never rush and they don’t force their way through the world. They continue growing with anything left beside them slowly becoming part of their journey.

There is something fascinating about watching nature reshape what we once believed was permanent. Watching how metal bends, concrete cracks, and wood disappear beneath new layers of bark. The tree isn’t trying to consume these objects. It is simply continuing to grow while everything around it remains still.

DIRT documents [# 22]

For the most part, clouds have no intended shape. They are constantly changing as wind and temperature reshape them from one moment to the next. Yet despite having no purpose beyond existing, many of us can’t help but search for familiar forms within them.

Some people see animals while others see faces. People also have that reference point from objects or places they’ve known before. Occasionally a cloud can resemble something so specific that it feels impossible to ignore. Two people can look at the exact same sky and leave with completely different interpretations.

Perhaps what makes clouds so fascinating isn’t their appearance but what they reveal about us. We naturally search for patterns and meaning even when none was intentionally placed there. The mind connects memories, emotions and experiences to random shapes. Which in turn allows every person to see something unique.

DIRT documents [# 21]

There comes a point when replacing something becomes easier than continuing to use it. A pencil becomes too small to hold. A toothbrush loses its bristles. Socks begin to develop holes. A tube of toothpaste gets folded over countless times for one final squeeze.

Yet many of us still continue using them anyway.

It’s easy to assume this comes from wanting to save money, but it often feels like something more. I believe that there’s some type of attachment to these objects. The longer an object stays with us, the more familiar it becomes. We begin to associate it with routines, memories and everyday life until replacing it feels strangely unnecessary.

These objects were never meant to last forever. They simply fulfilled the purpose they were made for. There is something quietly satisfying about letting them reach the end of that purpose instead of discarding them the moment they show signs of wear.