#sparrowtree

[scoundrels-in-love]

I write fiction about you, imagine memories, because your voice, rhythm of the laughter, fades but impressions of the moments stay like faded herbarium left in time's bright sun, and now I must turn each page with trembling fingers.

Today I linger at spring moment when dead tree bloomed one last time, beyond its strength, with tens of singing sparrow blooms, neatly lined on the bare branches and your hand grasped mine and life was a little fairy tale.

I am not destined to promise you anything anymore, but while the short eternity of my life goes on, the sparrowtree shall always bloom

[nonbinary-nature-lover-jeri]

Scenes From My Walk - A Flutter Of Sparrows In A Tree I edited some photos to show the sparrows colors and others I left as the camera saw them. Cloudy days wreck havoc on lighting for photos. #ScenesFromMyWalk #HouseSparrows #SparrowTree #SuburbanSparrows #SpeakForSparrows #SparrowsOfInstagram #Birds #Bird #BirdPhotography #Birding #BirdingPhotography (at Agua Fria, New Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/jeri.rae/p/CXRsNuDv4ku/?utm_medium=tumblr

[hank-timur]

#thesparrows #singingsparrows #singinghymns #singinghymnstogether #songofsparrows #sparrowtree #hauntedbirds #hauntedtree #zombietrees #woodcutterchallenge #woodcutter #timurhank (at Sanjay Gandhi National Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/CD8ncLVjjAL/?igshid=1e9t00vjfrd2h

[cardinaldesign]

[angelicgarnet]

Warrior cat time please? (Yes i know my username already has a warrior cat name in it shh)

sparrowtree of shadowclan; a dark grey and black striped tabby with orange eyes! :3 

[willfindmywayhome]

"There you are! We've been waiting for ages! Now hand over the bread 🍞 " #Sparrows #SparrowTree #Animals #Nature

[butoh-fu]

(via Modern Meets Butoh - YouTube)

[songclangen]

RUBBLEPAW!!!!!!!!

FASHION SIBLINGS!!!!!!

TWUG!!!!!!!

[talesfromthetree]

The Gambler at Heart

A crow can remember a face for up to four years.  I can’t even remember five days ago when  you told me about God and how he’s not in a box.  So anyway, there was a shooting star tonight that landed behind the chain link fence my yard is protected by.  You will never guess what it came with.  This little elf wearing little elf things and even elf ears.  So naturally I tried to pick him up, but every time I tried, he got smaller and smaller, almost so small I couldn’t see him.

Do you remember that you came out of your room and sang him songs - I think they were hymns?  And out of his knapsack (because that is what elves carry), came two brightly colored marbles.  And the elf said, “One of these marbles will take you to cities you have never seen and you will meet people that like all the same things you like.  The other will bring you either the greatest of luck or the most devastating misfortunes.”

You picked the second because it was blue and you’re a gambler at heart and were disappointed the next morning when you weren’t hit by a bus and didn’t stumble upon a long-forgotten treasure.  

By: Carly and Chad Howard

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Rachel Mason and the Little Band of Sailors at Sparrowtree 11/19/2011

Rachel Mason and the Little Band of Sailors

Sparrowtree

November 19, 2011

  Last month, I got an invite to catch Rachel Mason and the Little Band of Sailors perform as part of a lineup of experimental female-fronted rock at Sparrowtree, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was an opportunity to catch the band in a somewhat more traditional (for lack of a better word) set up than their VOGT Gallery performance. Although there were several screens for projections, the band didn’t use the screens at all. The configuration of the band differed – you had Mason on guitar and vocals, with a bassist, a drummer, one bass clarinetist instead of three, and a cellist. Sonically, there was a difference but it was subtle – cello just adds a prettier tone when behind guitar in my opinion.

  There were some vexing sound issues that were a bit distracting to the actual set. The sound overall was kind of muddy, making it a bit difficult to pick up the cello at points. But in such an intimate setting that may be a bit unfamiliar with live music, it’s kind of forgiven and placed in the “what can one expect category?” Still, Mason at times was able to sing without amplification at points and her voice seemed to chime like a bell. Sonically, Mason and her Little Band of Sailors reminded me a lot of Peter Gabriel-era Genesis but thematically of very early Rush – a sort of complex mythology that’s pretty difficult to figure out. Of course, with that in mind it doesn’t rock in the traditional sense. You won’t hear tons of power chords because the music is much more subtle and requires the listener to pay attention – it’s more about Mason’s vocals and her unique phrasings than anything else.

   Interestingly while on stage, Mason reminded me of an even more spastic David Byrne, if such a thing were possible. And at one point, a bunch of dancers were involved. It was altogether odd in a performance art manner but probably one of the memorably odd sets I’ve seen this year.

  For these photos and the rest of the photos from this night, check out the Flickr set here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/yankee32879/sets/72157628603251067/

[cagedmoon-blog]

Prologue

By: Carly Howard

From Five Variations of Romeo and Juliet

Opens May 18

www.sparrowtree.org

[songclangen]

sparrow :((

sloe and tall share the adventurous trait and they’re always like,,,, i want to Leave. their wives and kids are the only things keeping them anchored methinks

and also….twiglets on the way

yes i know i forgot ages and stuff im not fixing it lol

[talesfromthetree]

overgrown

The forest is full.  You turned me into an owl.  I sit on a branch alone.   Space is settled.  I turned you into an astronaut.  You sit on a planet and wait for my return.   The well is full of water.  You turned it into enchanting.  I make terrible wishes and they turn into butterflies.  So many butterflies that fly close to my face.  Their wings are feathery and they are bugs. If you can remember before the trees were overgrown, I will give you this gold thing that is magical.  And you will be able to talk to foxes and owls.  All of the animals will be your friend and you will never be lonely again. But the king will be jealous and he will send for the wicked creatures that are big and small and they will fly around on scary sticks that are probably brooms.  They will come into your room at night and whisper noises that sound like sadness. To overcome this, you will have to be the most beautiful.  You will have to grow your hair long and pinch your face so that your cheeks will be pink.  And you will have to be young and never cry. Everyone in the land will wish that they had a face as pink and youthful as yours and they will start stealing your voice and your eyes.  They will cut off your arms and tie you to them.   The ground is wet and flooding.  You turned me into a boat.  I float away. The house is building itself.  I turned you into a window.  You stared at me for too long. The fire has been put out by the children.  So we must never return.  

By: Carly Howard

[songclangen]

peaceful newleaf times…..enjoy while it lasts

[cagedmoon-blog]

submit an original fairy tale to Sparrowtree!

[talesfromthetree]

(don't pull my) tale

The town I used to live in was situated on a hill that poured into some woods and then into a lake.  Incandescence shone across the water at night; I never felt far from neighboring towns. A festival was held by the town’s shopkeepers on the night of the first full moon of the summer, in honor of my sister’s twelfth birthday.

  I had committed some nasty little act of deception against her.  “I’m not your best friend anymore, am I?” She bound down the hill, trailing me.  I had planned on dashing through the woods, and not stopping until the rocky lake shore.  But as I approached the forest I felt I was diminishing in size.  Rapidly.  Sarah stood at my side.  The trees lurched forward.

“There is only one way out,” a voice croaked, “tell me what is peculiar about the wood tonight.”

“And if not?” Sarah asked.  

  My sister’s hand was cold and as dry as bones, despite the humidity.  The old man’s toes wound and dug into the ground as he moved.  Ridges had accumulated and yellowed on their nails.  

“Grotesque,” Sarah said.  I wanted to flee.  He moved closer until the sour smell of decay overwhelmed me.  I turned.  The forest had engulfed us.

“They’ve moved,” Sarah said.  Yes.  “It smells different from its usual aroma?” I asked. The toes roughed the dirt on the ground.  The man smiled a foul smile.  “How could the trees have moved?”  Sarah asked.  The man did not answer, his toes ground deeper and deeper.

“Roots!” she exclaimed, “the trees wouldn’t be able to move if they had roots!”  

The man groaned.  He burrowed his toes, but it was too late.  His body splintered.  It diminished.  We dashed upward, toward the light of the town.  

  By:  Anjelica Young