"Make a wish
Write it down on a piece of paper
Fold it and tie it around a branch of a Wish Tree
Ask your friends to do the same
Keep wishing
Until the branches are covered with wishes"
-Wish Piece by Yoko Ono
From a distance, its branches seem to have experienced an early winter. The leaves are buried in a cloak of white, and from far away it's almost surreal. Standing amongst its colorful brethren, this lone tree bares the weight of worlds upon its shoulders. Secrets that have come from closed lips and locked jaws: where the keys had been buried away eons ago. No names, only titles synonymous to the people behind the words. This is a wish tree.
Taken from Japanese artist, Yoko Ono, and her sculpture Wish Tree, the idea goes back through many generations. As per Japanese culture, prayers are often tied to the branches of trees as an offering to its source. Ono created this as part of her international peace project IMAGINE PEACE, as a way to bring people together that allowed them to connect with both themselves and others.
Do It has brought this idea to life in our own backyard with the help of IC Junior, Leah Galant. Her short documentation of this project brings forth a sort of empathy and awareness between its almost ethereal footage. Countless people stand under the branches: old to young, male to female, race to race. It pulls at something we often forget amidst the stress and bustle of our lives. That we are all living in the same world and that we are all affecting the same space, subconsciously or not.
Every single note is a story, a plot, and a wish.
And who are we to say wishing is futile? Wishes are a language all on their own. They are joyous, loving, hateful, bitter, curious, and alive. They are the pieces of ourselves we're too afraid to show one another.
I think Galant did a wonderful job of displaying both the highs and lows of such a thing. She starts with a person and she cuts to a wish. She's in their face, close-up. Their voices are low yet we never lose them between the music. It forces us to hear these people talk as if we ourselves were standing next to them. It makes us watch and it makes us listen. No script could hold the intensity and the earnest thoughts of what is said and printed out.
As mentioned in the video, the anonymity of the wishes acts as a net to catch us. When we're so close to falling it allows us to jump and know we won't disappear. It allows us to be honest and open. It's freeing.
Where we often walk with our heads down or with our vision narrowed, this tree yells at us to notice it. To see it, to come to it, to read what it has to say. It demands us to pay attention to the things that are around us, and to the people that laugh and cry just as we do.
If nothing else, it lends us a shoulder as if to say, "you're not alone." It's almost ironic. Individually, some are dark and brooding while others are cheerful and caring. But put them together and they all make a solitary image. One that sticks out and reminds us that we're alive.
The video puts a lot of things into perspective. If anything, we can see a lot of our own wishes written out. Ones that we can sympathize with and others that makes us wonder. It allows us to step out of time for a bit and experience (in a small and fragile moment) somebody else's life.
Some wish for good health, others for a better relationship, and some even wish for the impossible. No matter what the content, the wish tree has become a friend and a willing listener. It will take your wish if you want it to, and it will keep your secrets if it must.
Do It has brought this idea to life in our own backyard with the help of IC Junior, Leah Galant. Her short documentation of this project brings forth a sort of empathy and awareness between its almost ethereal footage. Countless people stand under the branches: old to young, male to female, race to race. It pulls at something we often forget amidst the stress and bustle of our lives. That we are all living in the same world and that we are all affecting the same space, subconsciously or not.
Every single note is a story, a plot, and a wish.
And who are we to say wishing is futile? Wishes are a language all on their own. They are joyous, loving, hateful, bitter, curious, and alive. They are the pieces of ourselves we're too afraid to show one another.
I think Galant did a wonderful job of displaying both the highs and lows of such a thing. She starts with a person and she cuts to a wish. She's in their face, close-up. Their voices are low yet we never lose them between the music. It forces us to hear these people talk as if we ourselves were standing next to them. It makes us watch and it makes us listen. No script could hold the intensity and the earnest thoughts of what is said and printed out.
As mentioned in the video, the anonymity of the wishes acts as a net to catch us. When we're so close to falling it allows us to jump and know we won't disappear. It allows us to be honest and open. It's freeing.
Where we often walk with our heads down or with our vision narrowed, this tree yells at us to notice it. To see it, to come to it, to read what it has to say. It demands us to pay attention to the things that are around us, and to the people that laugh and cry just as we do.
If nothing else, it lends us a shoulder as if to say, "you're not alone." It's almost ironic. Individually, some are dark and brooding while others are cheerful and caring. But put them together and they all make a solitary image. One that sticks out and reminds us that we're alive.
The video puts a lot of things into perspective. If anything, we can see a lot of our own wishes written out. Ones that we can sympathize with and others that makes us wonder. It allows us to step out of time for a bit and experience (in a small and fragile moment) somebody else's life.
Some wish for good health, others for a better relationship, and some even wish for the impossible. No matter what the content, the wish tree has become a friend and a willing listener. It will take your wish if you want it to, and it will keep your secrets if it must.
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