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Back To My Roots

    Hey, everyone. Did you miss me? I've been working very hard, which is contrary to my nature. Ha, ha. Glad to be back with you tonight.
    Is this a weird tree, or what? The funny thing about this tree is that it resides next to a mountain river. It is actually still alive. Kayakers like the whitewater in the area and back-packers like the trails. This tree doubtless enjoys the ability to have a nice long drink of water at any time, but when the river floods, the dirt is washed away from its roots. When I saw it, I was reminded of a proverb. Something about a tree planted by the water, bringing forth its fruit in season. There is a starkness about this tree which I find unsettling. We are not meant to see this fully into a tree's privates, are we?
    This is like famous people. The fame lays bare things that should not be laid bare. All the hidden frailties, quirks and faults. Many people shy away from fame and even success because they are private people.
     My good friend, whom I have spoken of often, was a minister at one time. He says that ministers, writers and artistic types are similar. The people who speak or write so powerfully are often the weakest of folks. In order to share your inmost soul, weakness is useful because strength erects a barrier that prevents inward glimpses. This is an abstract point and hard to tell. I guess that it is sort of like this tree. I mean, this tree is putting it out there for everyone to see. It is ugly looking, stark, but you can see the whole framework of a person's life. How the tough childhood molded them. How the broken home made them withdraw. As I type this I'm thinking about a famous movie star who had a horrible childhood, yet her dramatic roles fairly screamed with feeling. To allow someone to look into your inmost depths is very hard to do. There are things I don't even share with my wife and I am content that all of us have things which reside in places that say, "Don't touch me!"
    I wrote a post once about The Late, Great George C. Scott. (January 18th, 2011). In it I told about how he used to be a guard at Arlington Cemetery. I wrote that I understood how George could play the role of Patton so well when he confronted the young soldier in the hospital. Roots and causes are fascinating.
     If you have time, and can find it, here on the blog, check out one of my blog posts called Oak Wine. (May 29th, 2011). It is in a similar vein as this post and I think you might like it. For many of you who just came to hear about the latest game, check back later in the weekend. Have a nice holiday weekend and think of us, here at the author's green retreat.
    I'm CE Wills.
P.S. About that title. What are my roots? I am afraid that I don't understand myself very well. Only shrinks should prowl about in the convoluted caverns of our innards. Adios.

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