I can count 61 trees from where I stand outside my apartment door. I wasn’t the first person to count the trees, though. I used to sit in the shade of the thin awning over my door and just stare at the sky, watching the clouds and airplanes. One day my friend Charlie came to visit, and I made him stand outside while he smoked a cigarette. When he came back inside, he told me he could count 61 trees. That's the difference between Charlie and me, I realized: I watch the sky while he counts the trees. I found that significant. Throughout that spring (spring, 1996), I participated in several online creative workshops with Chris Masters, an artist who lives in the dark woods of the far northeast. My goal during these one-day workshops (usually a Saturday or a Sunday) was to write one poem an hour, matched by Chris, who drew one picture an hour. It was a mental stretch, but fun, and there's nothing like writing 12 or 13 poems in one day to startle your imagination into high gear. To do so, I had to write down everything that came to mind, using the smallest details to invoke real emotions in the reader, including the imagry of the 61 trees outside my apartment. At the end of each frantic writing session, I'd gather all the poems together and email them to Chris, as proof of my work. Chris, on the other hand, didn't have a scanner, so I never got to see many of her hourly sketches. She promised several times to box them up and mail them to me, but, like everyone else, Chris is a busy lady and eventually I gave up asking. The summer went by, and in September, Chris announced she had a present for me. A very late birthday present, she said (which was true, since my birthday is in April). A week later, I received a hand-bound, hardbacked book in the mail, entitled "61 Trees: Poems From Under A Brutal Sun", containing 24 of my poems, each one illustrated by Chris. I was stunned, mainly by Chris's artwork, but also by the level of effort Chris had put into it. Someday soon, she'll be famous. Many more months have gone by, and I still haven't been able to make copies of "61 Trees" to distribute to friends, bookstores, or publishers. I'm not the best person to Get Things Done. I spend too much watching the clouds and airplanes. Dana Kay Blankenship, after unsuccessfully prodding me to at least post the poems and the artwork online, has created this wonderful website to display almost half of the contents of "61 Trees." Dana's contribution enhances the words and the art like a fine wine embellishes an expensive meal. She's my girlfriend. I love her. Thank you, Chris, for the artwork. Thank you, Dana, for the website. And thank you, Charlie, for the 61 trees.
Lane
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