Few leaves remain on oak trees in late autumn, and the lack of foliage reveals the trees’ exquisite structure. I stand at the base of a bur oak tree and look up, imagining a squirrel’s point of view as it runs vertically up the trunk. The tree is a gnarly specimen with rough bark and angular branches that twist and turn in all sorts of directions.
Visually, the form of an oak essentially is a combination of lines that curve, swirl, bend, and break. The lines imply historic movement. They tell the story of the tree stretching up from the ground as it grew, accumulating ring after ring within its trunk and exhibiting a sprawling root system underground. Wind and gravity direct current movement as they encourage elements of the tree to assume different lines throughout the day, including the arching of branches and loosening of leaves.
The artistic medium of ink largely hinges on the rendering of lines. To draw a bur oak tree, simple lines are drawn, crosshatching is applied, and scumbling is incorporated. Dashes and dots are added as well. Thickness and thinness of lines imply shadows and highlights. This mixture of penned lines running around on the paper depicts details of rough bark and sprawling branches tipped with fine twigs and occasional leaves. The finished drawing is a translation of a complex structure into ink.
The unique characteristics that are sported by bur oaks distinguish them from other species of oak trees. When these characteristics and the characteristics of other trees are noted, an exciting realization is made. The trees are individuals. The lines that form trees help represent individual characters populating the grayed and seemingly barren woods with their intriguing presence. To walk through the woods during this colder time of year is to visit these individuals, to observe the lines that take shape, and to appreciate them.