Buildings revealed from the jungle rise from the earth here. Walking earlier in the day on a concrete path beside a neatly trimmed edge I saw a barbed wire fence straining with the jungle behind it. Was the jungle being kept at bay or was I? Seeing the array of foliage, termite nests and the ubiquitous trash – I believe we both were being kept from each other with good reason. But here in this place, Muyil, there’s a poetic balance that exists between entropy and its opposite, ectropy.
Trees rise from stone, spill over hard edges and reappear. I am reminded of Baucis and Philemon the two gracious hosts in Ovid’s Metamorphoses who wish for eternal life together – and become trees at the same moment – standing together at the temple of Zeus.
“The people of Bithynia still show the neighbouring trees, there, that sprang from their two bodies. Trustworthy old men related these things to me (there was no reason why they should wish to lie). For my part, I saw garlands hanging from the branches, and placing fresh ones there said: “Let those who love the gods become gods: let those who have honoured them, be honoured.” Ovid, Metamorphoses Bk VIII:720 – 724
I love the intersection of hard and soft, living and inert and linear and biomorphic between these trees and temples. I wonder if these trees before me might have a similar provenance as those in Bithynia. I hope so.
