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Dylan Whale

New paths

New paths

Regular price R 700.00 ZAR
Regular price Sale price R 700.00 ZAR
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*All proceeds from the SOLIDARITY WITH GAZA series will go to Gift of the Givers and other aid organisations offering humanitarian support in Gaza.

My friends Chris (@ahandfromthecloudemerges) and Val (@valealexc) in New York, told me the story of how the roads were formed in New York, which was originally called “manaháhtaan” from the Lenape language, Munsee.

Before settler occupation the island was a lush forest, with sacred trails threading through it. One day, after the death of a wise Lenape elder, his family took his skull and buried in a clearing in the forest. They placed an acorn in his skull, and waited.

As the seasons shifted and the trees grew-a sapling pushed through the elders cranium from beneath the earth and branched out in all directions. Where each branch pointed, became the guide for new paths and new ways to move through the forest. The Lenape knew to find the right direction they had to plant something and wait.

When the white settlers came and consumed all the oysters and collected all the pearls, and stole all the land. They began to build roads and eventually streets over these sacred trails.

In time many people forgot, that these sacred paths, which were now paved over and rivers sent underground.

Yet those sacred paths remain in the layout of streets of the city and cannot be stolen. Indeed Chris and Val, contemporary New Yorkers found them - along with many others - and can see through the veils of will-full ignorance and amnesia.

They knew to consult the elder’s wisdom. That even after death, they guide the movement of thousands everyday through the city.

The horrors of Gaza are crippling, and almost impossible to comprehend now in the thick present.

Yet I feel less lost when I consider the wisdom and power of those buried under rubble, that they will never be lost or stolen or completely buried by the state of Israel and USA. Even now, as it’s reduced to rubble- Gaza remains in the seeds planted in the inner dome of our skulls.

What might sprout there? What shall we plant? Olive trees? Maybe or perhaps Venus flytraps that can grow like Jack’s beanstalk and consume the hatred and greed arriving with each missile and transmute it.

Bombs cannot kill wisdom, or love or soul or spirit. They may try to bury the Palestinians, but like the Lenape they will remain.

Mixed-Media archival print

Hahnemühle Fibre Matte Paper

300mm x 300mm

*Available for Pre-order


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