A studio, like a poem, is an intimacy and a freedom you can look out from, into each part of your life and a little beyond.
Tree It is foolish to let a young redwood grow next to a house. Even in this one lifetime, you will have to choose. That great calm being, this clutter of soup pots and books-- Already the first branch-tips brush at the window. Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects the tension between nature and human life, highlighting the inevitable intrusion of the natural world into our lives.
In this quote, Jane Hirshfield uses the imagery of a growing redwood tree next to a house to illustrate the broader conflict between the expansive, calm presence of nature and the confined chaos of human existence. It suggests that as we build our lives and surroundings, we must confront the realities and comforts of nature, which persistently insinuates itself into our daily routines, reminding us of its immensity and significance.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote is perfect for a speech about the importance of preserving nature in urban environments.
More from Jane Hirshfield
All quotes →What we want from art is whatever is missing from the lives we are already living and making. Something is always missing, and so art-making is endless.
as some strings, untouched, sound when no one is speaking. So it was when love slipped inside us.
I write because to write a new sentence, let alone a new poem, is to cross the threshold into both a larger existence and a profound mystery. A thought was not there, then it is. An image, a story, an idea about what it is to be human, did not exist, then it does. With every new poem, an emotion new to the heart, to the world, speaks itself into being.
Zen pretty much comes down to three things -- everything changes; everything is connected; pay attention.
I thought I would love you forever—and, a little, I may, in the way I still move toward a crate, knees bent, or reach for a man: as one might stretch for the three or four fruit that lie in the sun at the top of the tree; too ripe for any moment but this, they open their skin at first touch, yielding sweetness, sweetness and heat, and in me, each time since, the answering yes.
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The world was so beautiful when regarded like this, without searching, so simply, in such a childlike way. Moons and stas were beautiful, beautiful were bank and stream, forest and rocks, goat and gold-bug, flower and butterfly. So lovely, so delightful to go through the world this way, so like a child, awake, open to what is near, without distrust.
Were I a cloud I'd gather My skirts up in the air, And fly well know whither, And rest I well know where.