Most birth stories begin with vulnerability, nakedness, and dependence. But there are other stories—stories no one remembers, and which therefore float secretly in the air we breathe. There, amidst the breaths of people, float cubes of thick white smoke. They are the cradles of another kind of existence. From these cubes, not a child is born, but an adult human being just beginning to live, as if the time of growing up were a forgotten shadow.
Disguising trees in a forest can be surprisingly effective by using shapes that distract from what needs to be hidden. Patterns that are partly recognisable, such as branches, fit within the natural image, but can still evoke a sense of alienation. This plays on the human tendency to perceive familiar shapes less consciously. A special approach is the use of a fork shape: this reflects the pattern of a tree, but stands out because of its everydayness. It is precisely this combination of recognition and alienation that reinforces the deception. Moreover, a fork, like a forest, symbolises the coming together of separate elements into a single whole. In this way, this disguise emphasises that the unusual can help to conceal the essential, creating an unexpected balance between what is visible and what remains hidden.
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