I set out to draw a giant tree at the beginning of the river trail this afternoon, and I found my eye and pen wandering over the contours of the whole group of trees that seemed to have no individual boundaries. They share the same soil, air, water, light; and who is to say they're individuals----
--- any more than the cows in the conglomoration of cows that I found at the turnaround point a mile and 3/4 down the trail? Drawing any one cow was utterly impossible. There WAS no single cow. The herd was an inky mass of lurching, swaying shapes. and the closest to an individual was the curly-headed bull. But even he constantly shape-shifted, appeared, and disappeared, his massive head floating along the horizon of black backs and heads.
Tonight's carrots seem like individuals in this drawing, but within a few minutes they had become a stew, and the kale had wilted into the carrots within minutes. Is the whole concept of an individual anuthing nothing but a reification?