Deep in the heart of the Maine woods, just off Route 201 in the Somerset County town of Bingham, there is a small, circular clearing. It is quiet here: The wind pushing through the pine boughs sounds almost like wistful sighs.

In the winter months, the seedlings of new trees for Plum Creek Paper Co. are tenderly set in this clearing so the surrounding tall pines can protect them from harsh winters.

It was most appropriate then, said Maine and New York sculptor Lihua Lei, that this site was chosen for one of her outdoor pieces – an installation she calls “One of Two” – an artwork carved from more than a dozen of the trees in the fall of 1999.

Around the clearing, each facing inward, are 15 carved female torsos with scarred breasts. Four of the original trees have fallen, weakened by nature and the carvings, and the remaining sculptures have softened with weather and the dripping of sap.

The carvings have become a secret of area women, who have shared the site with friends, particularly those who have suffered from breast cancer. It has become a sacred place to some, a place for meditation for others. What is clear is that no one who visits the trees comes away unaffected.

“One of Two” has been closely guarded for two years for fear vandals would destroy it. This summer, one of the trees was indeed spray-painted blue, but Lei is undeterred. She said this week that it is time to share her art and that those who visit the trees will help protect them.

Peg Gray of Pittsfield was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1998. She first was taken to the trees by a friend shortly after they were carved and has returned three more times with her husband.

“Standing within that circle, seeing how the trees have aged, the sap dripping like tears, it was easy for me to see the human process reflected,” Gray said. “Some of the trees have developed a patina. Some look really old and haggard. I look at it as the way my friends with breast cancer are surviving. Some are surviving beautifully, blossoming and becoming better people.

“Some are still struggling or not surviving at all,” she said. “Even though some of the trees have fallen, I have found the site very comforting. The first time I visited, I was just blown away by the concept. Now, going back is like going home. I think of those trees as my friends. And I’ve lost friends.”

Stand in front of the cut and scarred pines long enough and it is easy to think of them as women.

“I myself feel that way. I feel their spirits very close to me,” the 35-year-old Lei said this week. Although the trees were carved to represent women’s struggle with breast cancer, Lei said they mirror her own lifelong struggle with body image and their creation was part of her own healing process.

“I carved them to represent the survival process of the breast cancer patients,” said Lei, “but they also reflect my own handicap.”

The petite Taiwanese artist contracted polio at four months old. She was left with one leg markedly shorter than the other and walks with arm crutches. She had to climb on scaffolding to carve the trees, which took her just over a month, working continuously through rain and snow.

“People’s first impression of me is a stereotype. They see my handicap. As a result, they miss a lot of me. I feel I suffer because of that judgment, just as the women who have been cut by breast cancer do,” said Lei.

“Because breasts are such a beautiful part of a woman, the women feel threatened, not just by the cancer, but by society’s perception of their beauty,” the artist said. “They wonder if they are still attractive, if a partner will still want them. I ask myself these same questions all the time.”

Lei said her decision to carve live trees mirrors women’s struggles as people. “Facing this struggle has been very healing for me,” she admitted.

But that doesn’t mean that carving them came easily.

“One time, when I was carving one tree, the sap came out so heavy, so alive, I had to stop,” she recalled. “I cried because the act of carving on the living trees describes the cruelty of the illness, which can happen to any woman.”

“Sometimes I feel an enormous sadness about the trees, but I also think they are so beautiful,” she said.

As the trees age, they are changing, which is a part of the process Lei welcomes.

“The natural healing process of injured trees’ bark will slowly close and cover the open wound,” she said. “The aesthetic quality of the process transforms and strengthens these trees, just as the breast cancer survivors prove their courageous will to live and to be beautiful.”

“Nature itself is working on this piece,” Lei reflected. “It is bigger than I am. It has a bigger meaning than my participation. It humbled me.”

Plum Creek donated the trees for the project and Bingham Health Care Center sponsored Lei during the carving.

She currently is seeking a grant that eventually will allow for removal of a portion of the trees and their creation into handmade paper. That paper will be used to print images of the tree circle as it was first carved, and sold to benefit breast cancer.

This October, while the trees are still standing, Lei said she is inviting breast cancer survivors to attend a live performance at the site. She will encourage them to use a sewing needle and pieces of their own hair to “repair” the surgical incisions in the carvings. In that way, she hopes to help those dealing with breast cancer begin a spiritual healing.

Lei has become nationally known for her often temporary, art. She has created impressive carvings in the side of streams that are washed away within days. She froze pages of her journal inside blocks of ice, revealing her words as they melted. She has held exhibits of her work in Ohio and New York.

People interested in participating in Lei’s performance this fall can contact her at 643-2346. The trees are located east of Route 201 in Bingham on Route 16. Drive 2.1 miles from Route 201 and take a left on a woods road. There is a small drive immediately to the left. The clearing is directly ahead.