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November 14, 2011

Talking Leaves






Talking Leaves is the name given to the Cherokee written language, or syllabary; a graphic representation of the Cherokee language that took Sequoyah, a Native American silversmith, over twelve years to complete. Realizing its worth, the Cherokee embraced Sequoyah's invention and by 1825, the literacy rate of the Cherokee surpassed that of surrounding European-American settlers. This was the only time in recorded history that a member of a non-literate people independently created an effective writing system.

The name Talking Leaves was a satirical reference regarding the white man's words that "dried up and blew away like leaves."


18 comments:

  1. I love these photos. As for Sequoyah, I grew up in East Tennessee. I am very familiar with his story. He was an incredible human being. Thanks for posting these beautiful photos and exposing your readers to a wonderful historical figure.

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  2. i have always maintained that leaves, branches and color make up the functional parts of speech of a beautiful, rarefied language, which is to say, the language of the garden. This is a lovely post in terms of image and content, for the idea of 'talking leaves' is a springboard for the imagination: leaves are nouns, colors adjectives--well, you see what i mean.

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  3. Wonderful shots. I'd like to be in such an environment. I think there are numerous parallels between leaves and people...they are born as small and tender buds....they stretch out and grow bigger, more defined....their color deepens...they are hungry for what the breeze brings them, and for the sun. They worship the sun. Some curl up at night. Some die early in accidents of nature. They get feverish in the fall, with blushing faces, or yellow jaundice. They droop and falter, age, wither, they die. We really think quite little about them, and I doubt they think of us at all.

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  4. Wonderful as always, beautiful colours Autumn on its way:)

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  5. My own vocabulary is inadequate to express my wonder at the magic of your photos.

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  6. Remember having those dreams in which you were flying? This series of images resonate with that half-remembered image of my own. Lovely.

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  7. I take it that's southern California autumn? I had no idea there would be that much color change. Really nice pics--and trees!

    Awfully interesting commentary too. Thanks for the education.

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  8. Beautiful photos and I really appreciate learning something new. Thanks! :)

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  9. Hello,desolate, i no know Le Blanc in france; My english very poor. With a dictionnary it's easy translation.

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  10. so darn beautiful! those colors are amazing...

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  11. So this is Lytle Creek? the last time I visited we walked a road or trail that led to a shooting range. Wasn't as pretty as your photos

    Didn't know Sequoyah was a silversmith. My mothers people broke away from the Oklahoma lands and nestled into the Missouri Ozarks.

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  12. Talking Leaves, isn't that beautiful? It would be worth investigating the work by Sequoyah.
    The photos are exquisite.

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  13. A sensitive post ... that speaks to our senses ... nature has its own language , some people hear her singing ....
    I love your pictures, those colors flew like birds, the presence of autumn, full of poetry, which leads us to the heart of our winters ..
    mmm...i wish you a nice weekend..
    Kisses dearest friend..:)and thanks for this beautiful moment :)

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  14. The photos are absolutely beautiful, just like good paintings, and the information, totally new to me, is so very interesting!

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  15. Interesting your story, the wisdom of some people is reflected in these stories. Beautiful pictures with a colorful and wonderful light. A big hug.

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  16. That was really interesting - and a sad commentary on lies that we told the native Americans.

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  17. Am slow, slow, slow getting here, but better late than never, as you have again, as you seem to have a habit of doing, put together a beautifully poetic piece with images that glow, radiating subdued riches, and words that leave me stumbling back into the past and wishing, wishing, wishing the horrors of what was done to indigenous peoples in many places could be wiped away, that we could start over, and just leave them be. Thanksgiving time of year always gets me thinking more than usual about the horrors hidden behind American history. Just finished reading an incredibly powerful book titled "Native American Testimony", by Peter Nabokov. If you can find it I think you will find it devastating reading, yet worth being devastated over.

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