Pine

Scots pine stands through the winter when the forest has thinned, its needles still green, its resin still flowing; from this evergreen patience the spagyric tincture of pine takes its form. In the folk traditions of the north the pine was the winter tree above all others: its resin scented the saunas and smoke-baths of Scandinavia since time out of mind, its boughs were carried into the house in the darkest season as the standing proof that life outlasts the cold, and its tar sealed the ships that crossed the northern seas. The resinous breath of the pine has long been used to open the chest and free the breath, to clear the head and renew a weary spirit through the dark months. Hermetically the pine belongs to Saturn — the planet of time, structure and patient endurance — and its signature is the inner spine that does not bend: the capacity to hold form through cold, to draw deep on the root, and to refuse the temptations of haste. A Saturnian elixir for the long season, with the Work itself on film.