tourists

I wish I could overcome my fear of nature and be one with it. It's a shame that I look at trees with the eyes of someone who looks at a famous high heeled shoe behind glass; there'll always be that invisible dividing line that prevents me from hugging a tree and breathing in the sweet scent of an old, dying breed. I've come close, but then I'd notice ants crawling along the bark... so I'd just take pictures. Like a tourist from the city.

Is anything really as beautiful as the trunk of a tree? White reindeer spots and grid-like cracks. I'd love to one day own a pair of jeans like tree trunks; slim, distressed, splotted, faded frays revealing more layers underneath.

Here are my favourite shoes. No one wants us to be together, but it's forever, man.