Systems: The Eye Cannot See

Perhaps you were surprised to find my note at the end of the last systems piece. Maybe you thought we were done and you'd learned all (or more) than you'd ever want to know about any sort of system. Sorry to disappoint, "but as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." So it is with systems.

Besides, I never answered the third question--so what? So...I'm going to answer it now :)

Jokes aside, until three months ago I actually didn't know there was more I could say about systems. Beyond viewing God as an incredible artist who truly isn't a respecter of persons (someone who looks only on outward appearance) but is a Being who sees the value of the growth and change beneath the surface, I couldn't see that this theory would matter to anyone besides myself. I shared it with my mom, of course, but was not surprised when she merely smiled at the theory. I could tell she was happy that I had enjoyed a seemingly profound realization, but I could also see that the idea didn't matter that much to her. Which was fine. I wasn't expecting it to.

But then I went on a hike with my camera and God and during the couple of hours I wandered through fields, around trees, and over rocks with a second pair of lenses, I started to see the eternity in everything. I realized that the systems I'd identified (clouds, sunrises, colors on flowers, etc.) are simultaneously a lot grander and a lot smaller than I'd thought. These systems are incredibly intricate and undeniably simple. They are everything...and nothing. The beginning and the end.

Before you find me guilty of blasphemy, let me try and illustrate. I saw it first in the clouds. Think through the system of a cloud. A white, puffy, little cumulus cloud. What rules created that cloud? Begin cloud. Water droplets combine and condense onto tiny particles of dust high up in the atmosphere. As the droplets combine and collect in a certain area, they form a visible collection of frozen water and dirt. That cloud then floats in the sky, blown to and fro by the wind, sometimes even blown in two by the wind. If there's enough water in the cloud, perhaps it rains. If not, it simply exists until the water warms and dissipates back into the air. End cloud. 

Or is it? Because the water is still up there, somewhere. Eventually that water will find its way into a cold patch and will join up with other water to become a new cloud. This time that cloud is larger, darker, and looming over a mountain. It rains. Thus ends the cloud. Or does it? Because that water is still somewhere. Either soaking into dirt, falling into a lake, or running away with a river. Now the water from that original, fluffy cloud could be split into three different systems. One becomes life-giving moisture for a wildflower on the bank joining the system of photosynthesis and oxygen production, another refills a lake and is part of the underwater ecosystem of algae and fish, and the third runs down and down and down until it's stopped in a reservoir where it sits for a while before joining forces with laundry detergent in your washing machine. 

Once you start thinking like this it isn't too long before you wonder what system you're actually looking at. Are you looking at the cloud system? The rainwater system? The growing plant and turgor pressure system? The laundry system? Or the whole system from start to finish when those little water particles finally make it back to the sky and into another cloud? And, from an artistic view, what's the most beautiful or important part of the cloud system? I could probably ponder those questions for quite a long time and still not come up with a satisfactory answer. So, instead of doing that, I went in search of another system. 

That, it turns out, was surprisingly easy to find and it came in the form of one of my favorite art subjects--trees. Think fast--what is the system that guides the life of a tree? Seed to sprout to sapling to tender tree to ancient oak to bug ridden to dying and rotting to (here we split ways. Your options include fallen, burned, or chopped and carted for firewood). End tree. That's not a bad tree system. Provided nothing untoward happens during a tree's lifetime, it will most likely live a good 25-50 years before falling to heavy winds, root rot, drought, fire, or the woodcutter's axe. Not a shabby system. 

Existent

Except that the system most certainly does not end there. I was astonished to discover that the tree system continues long after those of us with mortal minds and lacking eyes to see would deem said tree dead, dying, decrepit, an eyesore or fire hazard, or not worth even that much notice. Allow me to introduce you to three of the remarkable trees that showed me how little I really saw or understood. 

#1 - Existent (Exi). You have to admit that Exi is an eye-catching tree. He has a unique way of existing and showing the world that not every system ends up where you think it's going to. There's no doubt that Exi's life is not going according to plan. He's suffered some serious injury or illness that has forever altered his appearance and, perhaps, shortened his life, yet no one looking at Exi could think that he had not lived his life exactly has he was meant to. Only Exi would think of existing so dramatically. I also can't help but wonder if Exi's unique way of playing out his system might allow him to send out another root, another sapling, or a stronger branch that will take hold and lengthen his life as a living, albeit oddly-shaped tree. I'll have to check on him in a few years to find out. 

Alii

#2 - Ailing (She prefers to go by Alii). Alii's troubles began long before this photograph was taken. I'm sure her bark was rotted, eaten, and infiltrated by bugs years before she finally lost her head to whoever cut her down. They probably didn't want her falling on some unsuspecting person at an inconvenient time. What I want to know is if she was so absolutely beautiful on the inside the entire time, or if the gorgeous bit of divine geometry at her center was the result of her exposure to the elements after her encounter with a chainsaw. I'm guessing the latter. I suppose most people, if they look at Alii at all, just see a dead, brown, dried out tree stump before moving on. I, on the other hand, was captivated by her core. It reminds me a little of the shape you get when you cut an apple in half and reveal the star-shaped center. Except the tree version of that.

Split

#3 - Split. Named not only for the obvious state of his shattered and bruised trunk, but also for the fact that all of the new saplings visible in this image are splitting in every direction as they grow out of his base. If I were looking for proof that there is no start or finish in systems, Split would be that proof. His trunk is long gone. His branches carted away or burned to roast a marshmallow. Split should be dead. His system should be finished. But he's not and it's not. And, if those determined suckers have their way, he won't be dying for a very long time.

Which brings us back to the contradictory nature of a system and a whole lot of questions. 

But, I've kept you too long for today. I'll get to those questions next week. Don't forget to come back! We're just getting started. (Or finished. :)

Part 4: Systems: When a Tree Falls coming July 3
, 2022.