Interconnections

The story started with a photo of a tattooed skin. These were so unusual and at the same time scary feelings to touch a hundred years old human skin. I wonder how strange it is that it has come into my hands and I can see tattoos belonged to a man who has died long ago. As well as a heart of a deer; shot through by someone during hunting and now lies into my hands. All the relatives and friends I meet throughout my life. Just as the branches of the trees are arranged in a Golden section, so do my turns of the life, I think. I am thinking of interconnections: interconnections in nature, among people and events. Here was an apple tree that withered, and just the stump is left now. There the elderberry has expanded and is now in full bloom. Something has perished, something is thriving again. And everything is related. It does not happen by chance - the people I meet, the children that were born to me, the roe who went over the road in front of me, the crossroads where I came, and the way I chose. It is not random. Can I understand and translate it? Do I know what my children want to teach me as they have been born to me? How have my choices been affected by growing up among women, without father? And how have my paths in life been shaped by my childhood and teenage fear of masculine force? Where do we come from and where do we go? I am going back to these issues again and again.