The tree, Heidorn says, "is near my childhood home in suburban Los Angeles County, where I spent much of my youth dreaming. As time passes, as I get older and more nostalgic for a time before the creeping cynicism of adult life, I've come to think of that oak tree as the best possible location to have my ashes spread: The place where the world opened up, before I knew how easily it could close. It's a wish to go back to a simpler time, and reconnect with the sense of possibility and mystery that is a hallmark of childhood."
The Oak Tree is available in several limited editions, from the $20 wooden box that I received to a $5 silkscreened cardboard sleeve to an edition of four that Heidorn buried in unusual Southern California locations. Based on directions to those spots, three of the packages have already been retrieved. If you can find the last one, it's free. You could also just download the digital album for $1 from Bandcamp, but, well… I've been carrying around the wooden box for a month sharing it with anyone who will listen to the story of this wonderful objet d′art.