View allAll Photos Tagged INTERCONNECTEDNESS
Poverty is the state for the majority of the world’s people and nations. Why is this? Is it enough to blame poor people for their own predicament? Have they been lazy, made poor decisions, and been solely responsible for their plight? What about their governments? Have they pursued policies that actually harm successful development? Such causes of poverty and inequality are no doubt real. But deeper and more global causes of poverty are often less discussed.
Behind the increasing interconnectedness promised by globalization are global decisions, policies, and practices. These are typically influenced, driven, or formulated by the rich and powerful. These can be leaders of rich countries or other global actors such as multinational corporations, institutions, and influential people.
In the face of such enormous external influence, the governments of poor nations and their people are often powerless. As a result, in the global context, a few get wealthy while the majority struggle.
See also Agata Olek talks about her 100% Acrylic Art Guards (Flickr 720p HD video)
Agata Olek (Flickr)
100% Acrylic Art Guards
"I think crochet, the way I create it, is a metaphor for the complexity and interconnectedness of our body and its systems and psychology. The connections are stronger as one fabric as opposed to separate strands, but, if you cut one, the whole thing will fall apart.
Relationships are complex and greatly vary situation to situation. They are developmental journeys of growth, and transformation. Time passes, great distances are surpassed and the fabric which individuals are composed of compiles and unravels simultaneously."
Agata Olek Biography. The SPLAT! of colors hits you in the face, often clashing so ostentatiously that it instantly tunes you into the presence of severely cheeky humor. A moment later the fatigue of labor creeps into your fingers as a coal miner's work ethic becomes apparent. Hundreds of miles of crocheted, weaved, and often recycled materials are the fabric from which the wild and occasionally wearable structures of her fantasylands are born.
Olek was born Agata Oleksiak in Poland and graduated from Adam Mickiewicz University in Poland with a degree in cultural studies. In New York, she rediscovered her ability to crochet and since then she has started her crocheted journey/madness.
Resume sniffers may be pleased to know Olek's work has been presented in galleries from Brooklyn to Istanbul to Venice and Brazil, featured in "The New York Times", "Fiberarts Magazine", "The Village Voice", and "Washington Post" and drags a tail of dance performance sets and costumes too numerous to mention.
Olek received the Ruth Mellon Award for Sculpture, was selected for 2005 residency program at Sculpture Space, 2009 residency in Instituto Sacatar in Brazil, and is a winner of apex art gallery commercial competition. Olek was an artist in an independent collective exhibition, "Waterways," during the 49th Venice Biennale. She was also a featured artist in "Two Continents Beyond," at the 9th International Istanbul Biennale.
Olek herself however can be found in her Greenpoint studio with a bottle of spiced Polish vodka and a hand rolled cigarette aggressively re-weaving the world as she sees.
13th annual D.U.M.B.O. Art Under the Bridge Festival® (Sept 25 to Sept 27, 2009)
www.dumboartfestival.org/press_release.html
The three-day multi-site neighborhood-wide event is a one-of-a-kind art happening: where serendipity meets the haphazard and where the unpredictable, spontaneous and downright weird thrive. The now teenage D.U.M.B.O. Art Under the Bridge Festival® presents touchable, accessible, and interactive art, on a scale that makes it the nation's largest urban forum for experimental art.
Art Under the Bridge is an opportunity for young artists to use any medium imaginable to create temporary projects on-the-spot everywhere and anywhere, completely transforming the Dumbo section of Brooklyn, New York, into a vibrant platform for self-expression. In addition to the 80+ projects throughout the historical post-industrial waterfront span, visitors can tour local artists' studios or check out the indoor video_dumbo, a non-stop program of cutting-edge video art from New York City and around the world.
The Dumbo Arts Center (DAC) has been the exclusive producer of the D.U.M.B.O Art Under the Bridge Festival® since 1997. DAC is a big impact, small non-profit, that in addition to its year-round gallery exhibitions, is committed to preserving Dumbo as a site in New York City where emerging visual artists can experiment in the public domain, while having unprecedented freedom and access to normally off-limit locations.
Related SML
+ SML Flickr Collections: Events
+ SML Flickr Sets: Dumbo Arts Center: Art Under the Bridge Festival 2009
A visual and textual representation of his interactions with his friends, neighbours and family, Entang Wiharso’s Temple series explores issues of identity, conflict, humanity and human interconnectedness.
The work is replete with the words of wise men, snippets of conversation, utterances of personal hope and dreams of friends, family and the artist himself.
Night Festival 2012 - www.nhb.gov.sg/brasbasahbugis/nightfestival/index.htm
This evocative photo features a lensball encapsulating a globe with intricately engraved continents, partially submerged in the Atlantic Ocean's waves. The water's foam gently caresses the lensball, symbolizing the delicate balance of our planet amidst the relentless forces of nature. The image serves as a powerful metaphor for global warming and the alarming disappearance of icebergs, highlighting the urgent need for environmental conservation.
The crystal-clear lensball magnifies the intricate details of the Earth, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all continents and ecosystems. The surrounding ocean waves represent the rising sea levels and the profound impact of climate change on our world's geography. As the water encroaches upon the globe, it serves as a stark reminder of the fragility of our environment and the pressing need to address the global climate crisis.
Through this striking visual, the photo calls for reflection and action, urging viewers to recognize the consequences of environmental neglect and to embrace sustainable practices to protect our planet for future generations.
"Uncover our heads and reveal our souls..."
~Fever Ray
This photo began with the concept of transformation and or shapeshifting but the more I sat with it, I discovered other truths come into light.
For as long as I can remember, beginning in early childhood and more than likely, the moment I was conceived, I've had a direct sense of interconnectedness to all things wild. The land, trees, rivers, animals, sky, plants, and that liminal space beyond the veil.
I have always retreated to the wild. It is there I belong. It is there I am understood. It is there I am seen. It is there I truly find myself. I am no longer a separate entity, but a part of everything. I am all. I am the deer, I am the swaying trees, I am the flowing rivers, I am the wind whispering through the skies, I am a bud opening to the sun, petals of colors blooming and dying. I am reborn over and over. I am the leaves scattering in the storms, I am the eagle soaring through clouds and currents, I am thrown in-between my body, this vessel, and the bodies of all that lingers and gallops and strolls the forests, desserts, mountains and grassy plains. As Victoria Woolf quotes, "I feel it all. I am it all."
I hold this most sacred deer skull I found and instantly feel a connection to it's spirit. A kindred spirit at that. We are forever one.
Go into the wild. Stand still beneath the tall trees and listen to them speak. Everything is alive and a part of you. Allow the gentle wind renew you. Feel your kindred spirits surround you.
(Listen with headphones (link below);
Close your eyes, imagine walking into the depths of a forest, go back into ancient times, before man created labels, systems, religions and boundaries, before man broke that connection to spirituality/nature.
Heilung - Fylgija Ear
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
Als neuronales Netz wird in den Neurowissenschaften eine Anzahl miteinander verknüpfter Neuronen bezeichnet, die als Teil eines Nervensystems einen funktionellen Zusammenhang bilden.
In neuroscience, a biological neural network (sometimes called a neural pathway) is a series of interconnected neurons whose activation defines a recognizable linear pathway.
Erstellt mit JWILDFIRE:
JWildfire ist eine komplett kostenlose und plattformunabhängige (Java-basierte) Grafiksoftware, mit dem Schwerpunkt der Erstellung von sogenannten "Flame fractals".
Cryo Unit: Threatened to overwhelm me again
As the de-adenosine sequence reached its apex, a cosmic symphony of dissolution began. The last, fragile barriers of selfhood, meticulously constructed over a lifetime, crumbled into stardust. The rigid distinction between my physical body and the intricate machinery that now sustained me, between the ephemeral nature of thought and the overwhelming, external chaos, bled away with an exquisite, agonising slowness. It was as if a dam had burst, unleashing a torrent of pure, unadulterated consciousness. The shimmering nebula of my mind, once a mere poetic metaphor, materialised into my literal form, an ethereal cloud of pure energy. I became an observer, detached yet intimately connected, as currents of vibrant, cosmic colour flowed through what were once my limbs. Brilliant hues, reminiscent of a newborn star's fiery birth, filled the space where my heart had once pulsed with the organic dread of mortality.
That primal fear, a constant companion throughout my existence, dissolved into nothingness, replaced by an unsettling, almost serene acceptance. The very logic that had anchored my understanding of the universe evaporated, leaving behind a profound sense of interconnectedness. My companions, once loaded with personal history and emotional resonance, became faint, distant stars in the swirling, luminous galaxy that was now my mind. They were memories, yes, but memories observed from an impossible distance, devoid of their former grip.
I was a ghost in a bottle, adrift in a tear in reality, a rift in the fabric of spacetime itself. The chaos that had once threatened to overwhelm me from the outside no longer felt like a menace, but rather a profound, encompassing presence, a silent witness to my transformation. And in the quiet, vibrant heart of it all, a powerful, inexplicable pull emerged. It was not the familiar, gravitational tug of a celestial body, but rather a profound sense of purpose, an undeniable calling. A silent invitation, emanating from the sentient whispers of survival and the tantalising promises of ultimate transformation, drew me deeper into the cosmic dance. I was no longer merely existing; I was becoming.
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GUIDE AND SUPERVISION... Holistic Way, Super Vision, Eye Nutrition...pineal gland create inner light and super vision of your dreams...Lighting is a standout amongst the most imperative components in home stylistic layout. A decent lighting makes a feeling of warmth and inviting interest in the house. It likewise empowers you to perform every day errands well, makes you agreeable and above all outwardly upgrades the room.
Abstract: Sustainability has the potential to provide a holistic framework that can bridge the gap that is often found between socio-economic justice and environmental discourses. However, sustainability and sustainability education have typically accepted the prevailing socio-economic and cultural paradigm. It is my aim in this paper to demonstrate that a truly holistic and visionary sustainability (education) framework ought to demand radical and critical theories and solutions- based approaches to politicize and interrogate the premises, assumptions, and biases linked to the dominant notion of sustainability. If we are to envision and construe actual sustainable futures, we must first understand what brought us here, where the roots of the problems lie, and how the sustainability discourse and framework tackle—or fail to tackle—them. To do this is to politicize sustainability, to build a critical perspective of and about sustainability. It is an act of conscientização (or conscientization), to borrow Paulo Freire’s seminal term, of cultivating critical consciousness and conscience. In lieu of the standard articulation of politics as centralized state administration, ‘critical sustainability studies’ is based on a framing that gives prominence to a more organic, decentralized engagement of conscientious subjects in the creation of just, regenerative eco-social relations. It illuminates the ideological and material links between society, culture, and ecology by devoting particular attention to how knowledge and discourse around and across those realms are generated and articulated. I believe that future scholarship and activism in sustainability and sustainability-related fields would benefit immensely from dialoguing with this framework.
The assumption that what currently exists must necessarily exist is the acid that corrodes all visionary thinking.
– Murray Bookchin, The Meaning of Confederalism, 1990
Introduction: Why Sustainability (and Sustainability Education)?
Despite conflicting opinions over what the terms ‘sustainability’ and its variant ‘sustainable development’ actually mean, the framework of sustainability has gained a lot of traction in the last two decades. Its Western origins can be traced back to the writings of Western philosophers and seminal environmentalists like John Locke and Aldo Leopold (Spoon, 2013). Redclift (2005) asserts that sustainability as an idea was first used during the ‘limits to growth’ debates in the 1970s and the 1972 UN Stockholm Conference. Perhaps the most commonly quoted definition of sustainable development is that of the World Commission on Environment and Development (WCED) who states that “sustainable development is development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs” (WCED, 1987, p. 43).
Sustainability has the potential to provide a holistic framework that can bridge the gap that is often found between socio-economic justice and environmental discourses. After all, recent scholarship indicates that the issue of environmental quality is inevitably linked to that of human equity (Morello-Frosch, 1997; Torras & Boyce, 1998; see Agyeman, Bullard, & Evans, 2002), and thus they need to be thought about together. I hold that an actual sustainable society is one where wider matters of social and economic needs are intrinsically connected to the dynamic limits set by supporting ecosystems and environments.
Sustainability education has emerged as an effort to acknowledge and reinforce these interrelationships and to reorient and transform education along the lines of social and ecological well-being (Sterling, 2001). By being rooted in whole systems thinking, i.e. “the ability to collectively analyze complex systems across different domains (society, environment, and economy) and across different scales (local to global)” (Wiek, Withycombe, & Redman, 2011, p. 207), sustainability education strives to illuminate the complexities associated with the broad, problem-oriented, solution-driven nature of sustainability (Warren, Archambault, & Foley, 2014). If we are to devise cultural systems that are truly regenerative, this “novel” brand of education urges the teaching of the fundamental facts of life by stewarding learning communities that comprehend the adaptive qualities of ecological patterns and principles (Stone, 2012). Sustainability education highlights the centrality of ‘place’ as a unit of inquiry to devise reciprocal—and thus sustainable—relationships where one nourishes and is nourished by their surrounding social and ecological milieus (Williams & Brown, 2012).
Additionally, sustainability and, as a consequence, sustainability education are future- oriented and therefore demand ‘futures thinking’: the ability to assess and formulate nuanced pictures of the future vis-à-vis sustainability predicaments and sustainability problem-solving schemes (Wiek, et al., 2011). In a nutshell, futures thinking suggests that we need to imagine the potential ramifications of past and current human activities by critically analyzing them today if we are to conceive of new, more sustainable futures (Warren et al., 2014). Future studies can therefore help people to pursue their “ontological vocation” as history makers (Freire, 1993, p. 66) and to (re)claim their agency as a means of creating the world in which they wish to live (Inayatullah, 2007).
However, sustainability and sustainability education have typically accepted the prevailing socio-economic and cultural paradigm despite their apparent holistic intent and(theoretical) efforts to reconcile the three pillars of sustainability—equity, environment, and economy. Whether intentionally or not, they have promoted curative solutions instead of reflecting new, critical mindsets that can actually generate meaningful socio-cultural innovation by naming and discursively dismantling the systems and processes that are the root causes of the complex problems we face. And, as Albert Einstein once put it, “no problem can be solved from the same consciousness that created it.”
It is my aim in this paper to demonstrate that a truly holistic and visionary sustainability (education) framework ought to demand radical (of, relating to, or proceeding from a root) and critical (of, relating to, or being a turning point) theories and solutions-based approaches to politicize and interrogate the premises, assumptions, and biases linked to the dominant notion of sustainability.
Troubling (Monolithic) Sustainability
In order to be able to unveil and critically analyze the propositions and suppositions of what I call ‘the monolithic sustainability discourse,’ it is fundamental to start with the etymology of the word ‘sustainability’ itself. The operationalization of the term can be problematic for it implies prior judgments about what is deemed important or necessary to sustain. While some of these judgements might resonate with an array of environmentalists who perceive that the health of the planet and the well-being of our descendants are being—or are already—compromised by certain human activities, various other perilous premises and assumptions are generally left unacknowledged as a result of the depoliticized character of the dominant discourse of sustainability. Lele and Norgaard (1996) have put forward three questions that can help us to uncover and think more critically about these presuppositions in and across various contexts and scales: (a) what is to be sustained, at what scale, and in what form?; (b) over what time period, with what level of certainty?; (c) through what social process(es), and with what trade-offs against other social goals? (p. 355).
By building on these critical questions and clarifications, we can better understand the nuances of how the destructive and thus unsustainable ethos of dehumanization and socio- ecological exploitation may inform and permeate normative notions and articulations of sustainability. Yet, this is only plausible if sustainability is politicized. To politicize is to engage the existing state of socio-political affairs, to problematize that which is taken for granted, to make explicit the power relations that are an innate part of everyday life and experience (Bailey & Gayle, 2003). In an attempt to comprehend why sustainability is typically depoliticized we ought to examine briefly its discursive history.
The term ‘sustainable development’ became a part of the policy discourse and almost every day language following the release of the Brundtland Commission’s report on the global environment and development in 1987 (Redclift, 2005). While their definition included a very clear social directive, its human and political dimensions have been largely overlooked amongst references to sustainability, which, due to its environmental origins (Lele & Norgaard, 1996) and neoliberal focus on rights rather than needs (Redclift, 2005), have typically focused on bio- physical, ecological issues (Vallance, Perkins, & Dixon, 2011). Social sustainability, which has been conceptualized in response to the failure of the sustainability approach to engender substantial change (Vallance et al., 2011), is the least developed of the three realms and is frequently framed in relation to ecological and/or economic sustainability (Magis & Shinn, 2013). I assert that the reason for this is twofold: first and foremost, the sustainability agenda was conceived by international committees and NGO networks, think tanks, and governmental structures (Agyeman et al., 2002), which makes it a top-down approach and, consequently, less likely to recognize and address themes such as structural poverty, equity, and justice (Colantonio, 2009); and second, because social sustainability is made subservient to economics and the environment, it fails to examine the socio-political circumstances and elements that are needed to sustain a community of people (Magis & Shinn, 2013).
Sustainability, since its inception as a Western construct, has been progressively viewed as a crucial driver in economic development and environmental management worldwide. Nevertheless, as delineated above, its almost universal focus on reconciling the growth model of economics and the environment has served to covertly depoliticize the dominant discourse and therefore render it uncontentious if not intrinsically benign. It is worth further exploring the dynamics of depoliticization for I believe they are at the radicle of the issues sustainability attempts to address in the first place.
Bailey and Gayle (2003) identify a series of acts that can be associated with the dynamics of depoliticization, three of which can be observed when examining the monolithic sustainability discourse: (a) eschewing political discourse; (b) removing from the discourse the recognition that social advantages are given to certain constituent groups; (c) not disclosing underlying viewpoints or values. These processes are enmeshed with intricate ideological instances that help to mask the systemic and/or structural nature of a social or cultural matter (Bailey & Gayle, 2003). Further, as Foucault (1984) has stated, “power is everywhere” (p. 93) and it is embodied and enacted in discourse and knowledge. Hence, possessing the analytical tools to name and unpack these discursive ideological formations and power dynamics ought to be a prerequisite to the development of more holistic and critically conscious understandings and applications of sustainability.
Politicizing Sustainability
If we are to envision and construe actual sustainable futures, we must first understand what brought us here, where the roots of the problems lie, and how the sustainability discourse and framework tackle—or fail to tackle—them. To do this is to politicize sustainability, to build a critical perspective of and about sustainability. It is an act of conscientização (or conscientization), to borrow Paulo Freire’s seminal term, of cultivating critical consciousness and conscience (Freire, 1993). It is a call for the necessity to highlight, problematize, and disrupt what I have termed ‘the ethos of unsustainability’ and its interrelated ideologies of dehumanization and exploitation. Ultimately, to embrace a stance that fails to scrutinize the sources of degradation and exploitation is to uphold the power relations that sustain oppressive structures (Freire, 1993; Perry, 2001). I assert that only by delving into the origins of the ‘ethos of unsustainability’ can we really devise sustainability paradigms that are capable of promoting significant socio-cultural transformation.
To comprehend the contours of the predicaments that loom on our horizon as well as their premises and logics, we must go back over 500 years in history to 1492, the year that marks the beginning of the current colonial era and the globalization of the European colonial imaginary (Tuck and Yang, 2012). It is important to note that my intention in doing so is not to provide a sweeping, all-encompassing description of this genealogy/historical process, but rather, to simply name, connect, and emphasize the ideological systems and patterns that have been conceptualized and reconceptualized so as to sustain the ethos of unsustainability and its exploitative power structures. After all, as Freire (1993) has indicated, “to name the world is to change it” (p. 88).
(World) Capitalism: A Technology of European Colonialism
According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the word ‘colonialism’ stems from the Roman word ‘colonia,’ which meant ‘settlement’ or ‘farm.’ The OED describes it as:
… a body of people who settle in a new locality, forming a community subject to or connected with their parent state; the community so formed, consisting of the original settlers and their descendants and successors, as long as the connection with the parent state is kept up.
In Colonialism/Postcolonialism, Ania Loomba (2001) points out that this definition fails to link the word ‘colonialism’ to its ideologies of conquest and domination as it eschews any testimonial about those peoples who were already living in the places where the colonies were formalized. She offers another, more nuanced definition that hints to the processes of conquest and control of other peoples’ land and resources (Loomba, 2001, p. 2):
The process of ‘forming a community’ in the new land necessarily meant unforming or re-forming the communities that existed there already, and involved a wide range of practices including trade, plunder, negotiation, warfare, genocide, slavement and rebellions.
Loomba (2001) illuminates that while European colonialisms from the late fifteenth century onwards included a miscellany of patterns of domination and exploitation, it was a combination of these patterns that generated the economic disparity required for the maturation and expansion of European capitalism and industrial civilization; thus, capitalism demands the maintenance of colonial expansion in order to flourish. In spite of colonialism not being a monopoly of capitalism because it could be—and has been—utilized by so-called ‘socialist’ or ‘communist’ states as well (Dirlik, 2002), capitalism is a technology of colonialism that has been developed and re-structured over time as a means of advancing European colonial projects (Tuck and Yang, 2012). Colonialism was the instrument through which capitalism was able to reach its status as a global, master frame (Loomba, 2001).
A distinction between the three historical modes of colonialism might help to further elucidate the interrelationships between capitalism and colonialism.
Theories of coloniality as well as postcolonial theories typically acknowledge two brands of colonialism: external colonialism, which involves the appropriation of elements of Indigenous worlds in order to build the wealth and the power of the colonizers—the first world—, and internal colonialism, the bio- and geo-political management of people and land within the borders of a particular nation-state (Tuck and Yang, 2012). A third form, settler colonialism, is more suitable to describe the operationalization of colonialisms in which the colonizers arrive and make a new home on the land (Tuck and Yang, 2012). The settler objective of gaining control over land and resources by removing the local, Indigenous communities is an ongoing structure that relies on private property schemes and coercive systems of labor (Glenn, 2015).
In these processes of colonialism, land is conceived primarily if not exclusively as commodity and property, and human relationships to the land are only legitimized in terms of economic ownership (Tuck and Yang, 2012). These combined colonialist ideologies of commodification and private property are at the core of the various political economies of capitalism that are found in today’s globalized world (O’Sullivan, 2005). By relying on the appropriation of land and commodities through the “elimination of the Native” (Wolfe, 2006, p. 387), European colonialisms wind up restructuring non-capitalist economies so as to fuel European capitalism (Loomba, 2001). The globalization of the world is thereby the pinnacle of a process that started with the formation of the United States of America as the epitome of a Euro- centered, settler colonialist world power (Quijano, 2000).
Inspired by the European colonial imaginary, which transforms differences and diversity into a hierarchy of values (Mignolo, 2000) as well as by economic liberalism, which erases the production and labor contexts from the economy (Straume, 2011), the capitalist imaginary constitutes a broad depoliticization that disconnects its ‘social imaginary significations’ from the political sphere (Straume, 2011). Given that capitalism is imbued with European diffusionist constructs (Blaut, 1989), namely ‘progress,’ ‘development,’ and ‘modernity,’ the depoliticization of this now globalized imaginary is required not only to maintain the resilience of capitalism as a master frame (Straume, 2011), but also to camouflage its interconnectedness to European colonial systems.
Antonio Gramsci’s (1971) study and articulation of the conceptualization and operation of ideologies proves fruitful in terms of understanding how the capitalist imaginary has been used to facilitate processes of globalization that benefit European colonialisms. He argued that ideologies are invaluable when manufacturing consent as they are the means through which certain ideas and meanings are not only transmitted, but held to be true (Gramsci, 1971). Hence, hegemony, the power garnered through a combination of ideologies and coercion, is attained by playing with people’s common sense (Gramsci, 1971) and their lived system of meanings and values (Williams, 1976; see Loomba, 2001). Since subjectivity and ideology are key to the expansionist capitalist endeavor and its interrelated logics of commodification and domination (Gramsci, 1971), it becomes necessary to summon and dissect the colonial ideas and belief systems that have served and continue to serve as its conduits. This can in turn help us to interrogate the value systems and mental models that directly and/or indirectly inform the dominant notion of sustainability (education).
White Supremacist, Heteropatriarchal State Capitalism
As devised and practiced by Europeans and, later, by other Euro-centered powers such as the United States, colonial ideologies of race and racial structures smooth the way for capitalist production (Wolfe, 2006). The Eurocentric construct of race as “a system of discrimination, hierarchy and power” (Olson, 2004, xvii, p. 127-128) conveys colonial experience and infuses the most essential realms of world power and its hierarchies (Quijano, 2000). The state and its many institutions are particularly pivotal in sustaining these racialized ideologies that are obligatory for the development and continuance of capitalism (Loomba, 2001).
Slavery, as the foundation of notions of race and capitalist empire and one of the pillars of white supremacy, marks the concepts of ‘progress’ and ‘development’ as white (Painter, 2010) and renders black people as innately enslaveable, as nothing more than private property (Smith, 2010a). Within the context of the United States, the forms of slavery can and, indeed, have changed—from chattel slavery, to sharecropping, and more recently, to the prison industrial complex, which is still grounded in the premise that black bodies are an indefinite property of the state (Smith, 2010a)—yet, slavery as a logic of white supremacy has persisted (Smith, 2010a). The other two pillars of white supremacy are genocide, which expresses the need for Indigenous Peoples to always be disappearing, and orientalism, which builds on Edward Said’s influential term to explain how certain peoples and/or nations are coded as inferior and, therefore, a constant threat to the security and longevity of imperial states (Smith, 2010a).
The pillars of white supremacy may vary according to historical and geographical contexts (Smith, 2010a). Nonetheless, the centering of whiteness is generally what defines a colonial project. The formation of whiteness, or white identity, as a racialized class orientation stems from political efforts by capitalist elites and lawmakers to divide and conquer large masses of workers (Battalora, 2013). White identity is perhaps one of the most successful colonial and capitalist inventions since it “operates as a kind of property … with effects on social confidence and performance that can be empirically documented” (Alcoff, 2015, p. 23). It is a very dynamic category that can be enlarged to extend its privileges to others when white supremacist social and economic relations are jeopardized (Painter, 2010). It sustains itself, at least partially, by evading scrutiny and shifting the discursive focus to ‘non-whites’ (Silva, 2007). Whiteness is to be made invisible by remaining the norm, the standard, that which ought not to be questioned.
Capitalism therefore depends on and magnifies these racial hierarchies centered on whiteness. And, since race is imbricated and constructed simultaneously with gender, sexuality, ability, and other colonial categories—a conceptualization that serves to obscure white supremacy in state discourses and interventions (Kandaswamy, 2012)—, it is crucial to investigate the other ideologies that also shape class formation processes.
Heteropatriarchy, the combination of patriarchal and heterosexual control based on rigid and dichotomous gender identities—man and woman—and sexual orientations—heterosexual and homosexual—where one identity or orientation dominates the other, is another building block of colonialism. Patriarchy is employed to naturalize hierarchical relations within families and at a larger, societal level (Smith, 2010b). Similarly, heteronormativity paints heterosexual nuclear-domestic arrangements as normative (Arvin, Tuck, and Morrill, 2013) and is thus the bedrock of the colonial nation-state (Smith, 2010b). These social and cultural systems that configure heteropatriarchy are then apprehended as normal and natural whereas other arrangements or proclivities are demonized and perceived as repulsive and abnormal (Arvin et al., 2013). Heteropatriarchy is directly linked to colonial racial relations as it portrays white manhood as supreme and entitled to control over private property and to political sovereignty (Glenn, 2015). This indicates that the process of producing and managing gender frequently functions as a racial project that normalizes whiteness (Kandaswamy, 2012).
The laws and policies that were designed to institutionalize the formation of whiteness and white supremacy demonstrate that race, class, and gender are intertwined systems that uphold, constitute, and reconstitute each other (Battalora, 2013). The state and its ideological institutions are therefore major sites of racial struggle (Kandaswamy, 2012); they are responsible for devising and constantly revising the rationale that guides a white supremacist, heteropatriarchal settler colonialism grounded in the need to manufacture collective consent. These discourses are rooted in a pervasive state process that combines coercive state arbitration with societal consent by articulating the ideologies that link racial structure and representation as an effort to reorganize and distribute resources according to specific racial lines (Ferguson, 2012).
Despite increasing globalizing neoliberal urges toward deregulation and privatization, capitalism is still enabled and supported by the state. Its ‘ideological apparatuses,’ the state institutions and ideologies that enable and support the classist structure of capitalist societies (Althusser, 1989), is still fundamental to the expansion of capitalist enterprises; the nation-state is capitalism’s atomic component. The neoliberal state has utilized innovations in methods of social discipline and control along with legal practices to facilitate the process of economic globalization (Gill, 1995). Yet, all these schemes that involve retention of power through dominance and manufactured consent are rooted in divide and conquer strategies that cause those in subservient positions in society to engage in conflicts with one another (Hagopian, 2015). The interlinked logics and ideologies of white supremacy and heteropatriarchy conceived by state capitalism serve to spur dissent between potential opponents and thereby further stratify socio-economic classes. This prevents them from building a unified basis that can present a tangible threat to the status quo (Hagopian, 2015). Colonial and neocolonial powers have repeatedly deployed this stratagem to not only increase their geographical reach, but also to normalize and standardize the economic growth model of capitalism.
Colonialism is hence not just an ancient, bygone incident. The ideologies and processes delineated above demonstrate that it has remained very much in effect within contemporary capitalist and neoliberal frameworks (Preston, 2013). It then becomes critical to investigate how the dominant sustainability discourse may or may not collude in these schemes so that we may conceive of holistic blueprints that beget positive socio-ecological transformation.
Sustainability and Colonialism: Contradiction or Conscious Ideological Maneuver?
By unearthing what I believe are the roots of the predicament that sustainability attempts to heal, namely the ethos of dehumanization and exploitation rooted in divide and conquer systems, it becomes easier to analyze how the colonial political economy of capitalism may conserve hegemonic ideologies that pervade social relations and knowledge generating processes.
Yet, these ideologies and knowledge schemes have been given minimal attention in sustainability (education) scholarship. Even though some academics have contributed to the generation of a more critical comprehension of the interrelationships between capitalism, environmental degradation, and socio-economic justice (see Cachelin, Rose, & Paisley, 2015; Martusewicz, Edmundson, & Lupinacci, 2011; Pellow & Brulle, 2005), this major blindspot in linking sustainability to the colonial imaginary and its legacies prompts the following questions:(awhy are critiques of colonialism and capitalism so infrequent in the sustainability literature?: (a) why are critiques of colonialism and capitalism so infrequent in the sustainability literature?; and (b) how does that impact the discourse of sustainability?
I assert that, in spite of calls for paradigm shifts, the dominant disancourse of sustainability in the West embodies a transnational, globalized standard of economic growth. The promise that economic development can eradicate or at least alleviate poverty and hunger in a sustainable way reflects some of the same goals and values of the optimistic ‘ecological modernization’ concept and perspective, which suggest that the development and modernization of liberal capitalism result in improvements in ecological outcomes (Buttel, 2000). The neoliberal, capitalist overtones of sustainable development not only expose the contradiction inherent in the term, but they also serve to further commodify nature (Cock, 2011). This neoliberalization of nature, which has recently gained a lot of attention in the corporate world and academia under the lexicon of ‘ecosystem services,’ alienates people from their physical surroundings and therefore reinforces the society-nature divide. In short, the sustainability discourse has been appropriated by the capitalist master frame and has transformed most if not all social and ecological relations into financial ones. In lieu of addressing social and environmental justice issues, this form of “green” or “natural” capitalism is responsible for deepening both social and environmental inequalities (Cock, 2011).
Since sustainability (education) is (supposed to be) a praxis-oriented framework that symbiotically combines thought and action for transformative, liberatory ends, it ought to embrace this critique of colonial capitalism and the subsequent neoliberalization of the political economy if it is to oppose and resist hegemonic ideologies in its multiple and diverse manifestations. After all, whether intentionally or not, what matters in the end is that those discourses of sustainability that do not take a stance against colonialism and capitalism only serve to preserve them and the status quo. An understanding of these interdependent systems allows for the development of critical sustainability dialogues and actions that can actually promote the paradigmatic shifts required to redress the socio-cultural problems that are at the heart of the environmental crises. Thus, sustainability can and should be reframed to suggest a process of personal, social, and cultural conscientization that is environmentally sound, i.e. one that follows ecological principles and patterns, instead of upholding the dehumanizing, exploitative, and paradoxical ‘development as growth’ standard of global capitalism.
The following section combines the analyses and critiques presented in the preceding (sub)sections into a single, cohesive, and holistic framework, and further elucidates the distinctions between monolithic sustainability and critical sustainabilities.
The Framework of Critical Sustainability Studies
[T]he political cannot be restricted to a certain type of institution, or envisioned as constituting a specific sphere or level of society. It must be conceived as a dimension that is inherent to every human society and that determines our very ontological condition.
- Chantal Mouffe, The Return of the Political, 2005
‘Critical sustainability studies,’ while not exactly novel in the sense that it draws on principles, concepts, and positions that are foundational to other frameworks and fields—more specifically, critical Indigenous and ethnic studies, postcolonial theory, queer theory, feminist theory, crip theory, social ecology, political ecology, and cultural studies—, presents itself as an alternative to the sustainability theories and conceptualizations that have failed to engage a truly intersectional analysis of dominant sustainability and environmental discourses, policies, and practices. Its primary objective is to rearticulate sustainability as it has the potential to provide a more holistic conception of conscientization that can bridge the gap between social and economic justice and environmental sustainability.
The framework indicates a crucial double political intervention: to put sustainability and critical theory in conversation; to embed sustainability and ecology into critical theory and vice- versa. As I discussed in the previous section, sustainability has, for the most part, become a hegemonic and, therefore, highly problematic discourse that refuses to transform the complex ideologies and systems that undergird the ethos of unsustainability and the current socio- ecological crises. On the other hand, critical theory, which seeks to extend the consciousness of the human self as a social being within the context of dominant power structures and their knowledge management operations (Kincheloe, 2005), could benefit from incorporating ecological principles and the sustainability notion of ‘place’ into its analytical toolbox. After all, I am as interested in localizing critical knowledge—without disconnecting it from global matters and realities—as I am in putting forth more critical and radical views of sustainability. Hence, this framework brings together what I believe are some of the most robust and cutting edge theories and methodologies to facilitate the deconstruction of the questionable ideologies that guide Western epistemologies like (hegemonic) sustainability.
Critical sustainability studies encourages sustainability scholars and/or educators to move from a defined methodology of problem-solving to the more critical moment of calling something into question (Freire, 1993). By rooting it in conscientization, I propose an orientation to sustainability and sustainable development that politicizes and reveals it as an agenda, discourse, and knowledge system that ought to be contested and rearticulated so that it can incorporate and critically engage with emancipatory understandings of power and power relations. Furthermore, by problematizing and closing the culture-nature divide, it can lay down the groundwork for the paradigmatic changes necessary to heal widespread colonialist alienation from the wider ecological community and to create visions of deep sustainabilities that can engender ecologically sound socio-cultural transformation.
I stress that the notion of sustainabilities is necessary if we have the intention of opposing and displacing the monolithic, top-down and now universalized sustainability agenda, which I refer to as ‘big S Sustainability.’ After all, much like science (Parry, 2006), sustainability is not the property of any one culture or language. There are different ways of seeing and knowing sustainability, so it is time to pluralize it in the literature and discourse. This simple act is an extraordinary intervention in itself because within the colonial imaginary “sustainability” means “Western sustainability.” By centering “novel” understandings of sustainability that are concerned with the specificities of geo-political, cultural, and historical contexts and power relations, sustainability scholars and educators can create theories and visions of sustainability that can lead to the development of more just, place-based cultures and social ecologies.
Critical sustainability studies as I envision it is a consciousness-raising exercise that is particularly useful in educational settings. It indicates methodology as much as content. This praxis-oriented framework can help teachers and students alike to develop consciousness of freedom and to acknowledge authoritarian socio-cultural tendencies that have toxic environmental ramifications. The next section provides an overview of its tenets, the educational philosophy that underpins it, as well as the four preliminary methodological principles and examples of related pedagogical interventions that directly inform the framework and its liberatory, decolonizing ambitions.
Epistemological Position, Preliminary Methodological Principles, and Pedagogical Interventions for Conscientization
The epistemological, methodological, and pedagogical implications of critical sustainability studies are rooted in an ethical and political vision, one that is found in the vast majority of social ecology and political ecology projects: that “the domination of nature by man [sic] stems from the very real domination of human by human” (Bookchin, 2005, p. 1). In other words, we cannot overcome the ecological crisis unless we rid ourselves of the colonial ideologies of domination and hierarchy that permeate all forms of systemic and systematic exploitation and dehumanization. While much easier said than done, critical sustainability studies seeks to conceptualize this vision by building on the following tenets:
That sustainability and sustainability education are not neutral, they either advance or regress justice and Critical sustainability studies strives to promote justice and ecological regeneration.
That an analysis of power is central to understanding and engendering positive socio-cultural Critical sustainability studies strives to be conscious of power relations and to identify power inequalities and their implications.
That it is crucial to foreground the sociocultural identities and experiences of those who have been (most) oppressed – people of color, people with disabilities, queer and transgender people, the working class and the economically poor, undocumented immigrants, Critical sustainability studies acknowledges that just, healthy cultures and societies can only be cultivated if we examine the circumstances that cause and maintain socio-economic marginalization.
That positive socio-cultural transformation comes from the bottom up. Critical sustainability studies emphasizes and advocates a collective and decentralized approach to sustainable change.
And, finally, that the human community is inherently a part of rather than apart from the wider ecological world. Critical sustainability studies affirms that this relational ethos serves as the epistemological foundation of novel, dynamic worlds where healing and justice are at the front and center of our cultural and ecological identities.
In addition to delineating critical sustainability studies as a praxis that is founded on the above tenets, the framework is guided by a critical constructivist epistemological position. Strongly influenced by Freirean pedagogies and the Frankfurt school of thought, critical constructivism endeavors to dissect the processes by which knowledge is socially constructed; in other words, what we know about the worlds we live in always demands a knower and that which is to be known, a contextual and dialectical process that informs what we conceive of as reality (Kincheloe, 2005). This epistemological position problematizes and extends constructivism by illuminating the need for both teachers and students to develop a critical awareness of self, their perspectives, and ways their consciousness have been shaped and/or reshaped by society (Watts, Jofili, & Bezerra, 1997). Critical constructivists attempt to comprehend the forces that construe consciousness and the ways of seeing and being of the subjects who inhabit it (Kincheloe, 1993, as cited in Watts et al., 1997). This political, counter- Cartesianism, and anti-objectivist philosophy (Kincheloe, 2005) is central to an emancipatory approach to sustainability and sustainability education, and is, therefore, at the root of the critical sustainability studies conception of holistic conscientization.
www.susted.com/wordpress/content/critical-sustainability-...
As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live.
~ Pope John Paul II
Not so many years ago the human world changed. It changed for you and it changed for me. It changed for almost everyone.
Individuals, throughout the world, quite suddenly had a way to take a step into the outside world.
Warhol predicted it in the sixties. Everyone would have their 15 minutes of fame. Perhaps we didn't understand his message, or he got it slightly wrong but each of our fifteen minutes consist of a blog, a flickr stream, a facebook page, a tweet, a digg, a viral video. So many of us who would have never got to bare our souls, or to connect and meet in our virtual would, are able to do that every single day.
The compassion, the creativity, the connections we can make, the internet has made this all possible. Of course it is not all good, nothing in human endeavour ever is but where it is good it is very, very good.
As a species we are more alike than we are different, and the ordinary people that inhabit this planet just wish to get on with their lives in peace and freedom.
The threads of this have been spreading like a mycellium, unseen by the overlords, a creeping network connecting the like-minded.
Things were about to change...
Tragically and symbolically the flame that ignited the fire was the plight of a poor man in Tunisia. A man who couldn't even live his life in dignity and in utter desperation he burned himself to death.
This became the catalyst for disaffected youth across the region. Already they had been talking of the future they desired and were organising themselves into active groups. But now, with the desperate actions of Mohamed Bouazizi in Tunusia and his brutal death at his own hands, an idea spread through the collective unconscious "if he can lay his life down for us, then what can we do?"
And this is how revolution begins. The people lose their fear and one more day of repression is too high a price to pay. Ordinary people become willing to lay down their lives so that others can live in freedom.
One must have a heart of stone not to feel profoundly moved by the images on our TV sets and the passion and joy of the voices of unified, down-trodden peoples. To see them risk all to be free after so many years of brutal oppression brings home what a cossetted and privileged life we lead in the free world. Can we truly understand what it means to be free if we have not had to live under the rule of some psychopathic nutter or another? I guess we are lucky not to have to know what we take for granted.
First the Tunisians, then the Egyptians and now the Libyans. I can only sit back in awe and total admiration to witness their utter bravery. I don't think I would have the moral courage to do what they are doing, in fact I know I wouldn't. In the face of utter terror and brutality, they continue to make their stand. Godspeed to them all.
I just wish that any and all oppressed peoples throughout the Middle East, the Bahrainis, Saudis, Syrians, Iranians and everyone else can find their liberation too. Everyone on this planet deserves to live in peace and freedom. I also wish that we in the free West find the moral courage to do the right thing by these people and stop selling arms to oppressive regimes and propping up whomever suits our aims in the so-called name of "stability" or too feed our addiction to oil. I count myself in that too.
So what of land art amongst all these things? Well, spring is an auspicious time. Something stirs within us all
. It is in our genetic makeups, deep within our souls. We are creatures of nature and all born of this shared planet.
That may be why spring is the season of revolution. The French and Russian revolutions began in spring. Czechoslovakia began a period of liberalisation in 1968, known as the Prague spring. The fall of the Eastern bloc begun in autumn 1988 but gathered apace in the spring of 1989 when Solidarity was made legal in Poland in April and they won an overwhelming 99% of seats in the parliamentary elections. And there are many more too.
I am touched deeply by spring as I am sure all that are experiencing it right now, are too. I am also deeply touched by the struggle and bravery of the people of the Middle East. The internet is an example and a symbol combined, of the power of the interconnectedness of all things. Where oppression and brutality seek to divide and conquer. The seasons, the natural world and the power of information and communication brings us all back together again.
"There is one God looking down on us all. We are children of the one God. God is listening to me. The sun, the darkness, the winds are all listening to what we now say."
~ Geronimo
The Old Ones before us knew things. Many of them were so spiritual that the Creator told them things through visions, ceremonies, and prayer. The Creator taught them about interconnectedness, balance and respect. The Old Ones experienced these things and told us we are all children of the same God. We all live under the same natural laws. Every human being, every animal, every plant, every insect, every bird, we are all the same in the eyes of God. Great Mystery, teach me to respect all the things You have created.
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
The bumblebee is a highly important pollinator of many plants, they hold the power of service. When landing upon a flower to collect its nectar, pollen also attaches itself to the leg. This is then passed on to other flowers, creating a fertilisation process. Their movement from one plant to plant represents the interconnectedness of all living things. The bumblebee is a messenger bringing the secrets of life and service.
www.facebook.com/nefiseHphotography
A photomontage of a photograph and a smoke art composite. Created as part of my journal submission for the start of year 2 on my children's wellbeing practitioner training - exploring the latest neuroscientific child development research outcomes. Really inspired by neuroscientist Louis Cozolino, he finds parallels between the survival and connectivity of neurons and the survival and connectivity of children, who both need the same things to survive. This photo composite represents a healthy brain which has developed all the neuronal pathways. Neuron cells “reach out for connection” and develop dendrites, which resemble the branches of trees..
Declaration of Support for the Standing Rock Sioux
We stand here today, in our feast hall, where our laws guide our way forward, to extend our full support with the Dakota Sioux Peoples in Standing Rock who are heroically standing their ground against the Dakota Access Pipeline. We have been witnessing the outright abuses against Indigenous and human rights that are occurring on the ground there and denounce the violence and force used against the Indigenous peoples, the media, and the land itself. The acts by these companies and the governments that are supporting them are utterly shameful.
Our nation has also been standing up against fossil fuel companies, including the Enbridge Northern Gateway bitumen project and numerous fracking projects that are threating to build a carbon corridor across our beautiful yintah (traditional territory) and our life-giving rivers and streams. As sovereign indigenous nations, who have not ceded or surrendered our territories, land management decisions must respect our Anuk Nu’at’en (Wet’suwet’en Law). This is often not the case however, and we have lessons to share about the divide and conquer tactics used against us. We have seen many divisions in our community, especially when it comes to fracked gas, our own people used against us. But we urge you at Standing Rock to stand strong and continue the fight of our ancestors. We can’t eat money, we can’t drink oil.
Our stance as the Indigenous peoples, the hereditary governments of our lands, is a stance not just for our people, but for all people for the next seven generations. We celebrate our traditional ways, our values, and beliefs because they hold the wisdom of our ancestors, a way for all of us to live sustainably in our lands.
We understand the interconnectedness of all things! We understand that water is life!
We understand that a new way of life is possible because we have lived that life!
The people of the earth united, will never be defeated.
Mandate Drawing - addison karl - Original On Cardstock - 2012 - 100 x 80cm
Drawing Illustrations By Karl Addison
To See More:
For More: www.idrawalot.com/
www.flickr.com/photos/partybots/
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As Karl Addison’s art and vision evolves—from blank slate, to paper, to mural, to installation, to unoccupied public space—our understanding and comprehension of the world around us begins to unfold as well. We may not notice his input, infiltrating our subconscious—our everyday—but it’s there. A beautiful woman’s face composed of negative space watching peacefully over a cemetery in Wedding, a fragile old Jewish woman towering over a decommissioned factory in Berlin, an urban zoo of imagined creatures deposited all over the globe, an abandoned room filled with 4,500 fat babies…Addison’s art and commentary on history and culture are everywhere, becoming part of the collective unconscious.
Through his travels to Italy, Israel, Japan, throughout the US, and his current residence in Berlin, Addison’s overarching theme of people and the spaces they occupy and interact with has taken shape. By focusing on pieces, which work to become part of public space rather than interrupt it, his intent to create regenerative art through murals and other mediums is being actualized. He has achieved this both independently and collaboratively with other contemporary artists and painters, most notably James Boullough. Addison’s recent and current collaborative projects also highlight his more narrowed focus of interconnectedness, “connecting humanity around the world with different cultures from different places,” he wants us to value tiny lines, details, to appreciate a world view and hopefully, start extolling minute details of our own.
It takes an extraordinary person, one with talent, courage, and patience, to express himself the way Addison does. To project his voice and vision for the world to see—to rip it out of a sketch book or a blank page in his mind—and produce it. To take it beyond the two-dimensional and spray paint, wheat paste, bomb, the side of a building with an illimitable piece of art. To exhibit in public space—on walls, on clothing, in art galleries—what a beautiful fucking thing. Art—“a new mode of obtaining power of mind over mind” leaving the watching to the watched.
- written by jennifer weitman
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
It seems as though Nature is just as annoyed by this season's aggressive weather as I am.
Today, I spent a certain amount of time just standing at the front door, waiting for a late Fedex delivery. My package was four hours late thanks to (you guessed it) snow in Tennessee.
I peered out at the thick, crusty snow, and wondered how much longer it'd be before I looked out and saw green.
Then I spotted this chipmunk at the entrance to its burrow. It was apparently thinking the exact same thing. It paused there, motionless, for a full minute before it abruptly disappeared, as though a trapdoor beneath it had been released.
I thought this was adorable.
I also thought this was a welcome sign of the interconnectedness of all things, and of our collective faith that Spring must come.
I also found myself thinking that if I had an underground house with a hatch to the surface, I'd spend way too much time standing at the ladder, pretending to be a submarine commander.
An expansive view of Finland’s serene wetlands, with a tapestry of interconnected lakes surrounded by verdant flora. This tranquil haven is a testament to nature’s intricate beauty.
Traduzione Italiana: Una vista estesa delle tranquille zone umide della Finlandia, con un intreccio di laghi interconnessi circondati da una flora rigogliosa. Questo rifugio tranquillo è una testimonianza della complessa bellezza della natura.
© All rights reserved.
see on black - www.darckr.com/username.php?username=10334788@N02
1.1.2010 - 1.383 / 114 / 510 / 4 galleries
2010 Predictions from ... Beyond.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3zJm98UXzQ
"first, we would suggest pausing a moment and recognizing that the great unknown is your paradise"
"we are only giving you the potential of what you are most inclined to do;
we are not giving you some magic future, created by energies that are not yours."
"The concept of free choice creates a constant and continuously changing track in front of you."
"In 2010, anything that you desire strongly will manifest in your life"
"There will be a number of people who will increasingly be aware of a longing within themselves for more"
"Souls will be stirring that have not been awake for many, many lifetimes"
"In the year 2010, it will become harder to hide truth. Transparency will become the watchword of the times"
"The coming year is a time to shed the perception of trouble and strife, and exchange that vision for one of transformation, growth, sharing and envisioning the new reality you are striving for."
"The world is full, fat and overly ripe with juicy secrets now. These will seed, pop and explode onto the world stage this year."
2010 will be the year conspiracy theorists will say, "i told you so"
"Much will come to the forefront that was hidden in the past, including areas such as UFOs, psychic phenomenon, healing miracles and government cover-ups."
"Universal truths about energy and interconnectedness of all life will emerge into the mainstream with increasing speed."
"There will be growing sense of awareness across the planet that many things aren't really as they have appeared to be for a long time"
For many of you this will be the year in which you "get it"
"The demystifying of life on the grand scale it is occurring now is unprecedented ."
"The new world view is being created from inside out, instead of the outside in."
"Human beings will move from instinctual survival to conscious creation."
"what happens between now and 2012 will be the foundation for the next ten years. And what transpires within the next ten years will be the foundation for the next hundred years and more."
"Be prepared for announcements of cures for devastating diseases."
"Be prepared for some amazing technologies that will support the restoration of the dirtied waterways."
"Evolutionary medical processes found trough stem cell technology will bring to masses to absolute gaping awe."
"People will be able to live uncompromisingly with strong bones well into their nineties after this year's discoveries."
"Researchers will begin to study human emotions more thoroughly and will see how humans play a vital role in creation of sickness. And scientific communities will start slowly accepting this."
"In 2010 you are going to have a young people's crusade because of the Internet."
"Technology developed by hackers will permit people of all races and ethnicity to communicate without the interference of governments or countries seeking to silence them."
"Another blessing of the Internet will be the lifting of the curtains hiding child labor."
"Communities will once again spring up in a way that has not been seen in some time."
"You will begin to see a marked increase in the demand for wholesome, healthy, non-contaminated foods."
"The past that held gods who took sides is dying."
"A power circling perpetually throughout this year to help you achieve your dreams, successes and enlightenment, is the power of envisioning."
"So if we were to give you advice that will hold true for the entire year, it would be to become a powerful visionary."
"Energy follows thought."
"We see even the last of you emerging from the fog soon."
"Do not give your precious energy to a dying past."
"Face the brilliance of your most wonderful creations."
"Dwell on your dreams."
.
The Kamikochi was Japan’s first mountain resort hotel when opened in 1933 and built in the European Alpine lodge-style design.
This is a postcard, produced in an almost ukiyo-e style was issued by the Japanese Government Railways in the 1930’s and would have been on sale at their stations and at the destinations they served of which this mountain hotel would have been one.
Trees and nature are central to Shinto, a religion that originated in Japan, which holds that spirits inhabit trees that reach one hundred years of age. These tree spirits are known as kodama, and according to Japanese folklore, the kodama give the tree a personality.
Trees themselves are symbols of strength, individuality and expression, calmness, growth and the interconnectedness of everything and they feature heavily in Japanese art.
Excerpt from www.mississauga.ca/arts-and-culture/arts/public-art/perma...:
A place to be seen,
A place to connect with the natural world,
A place to dream.
A moment of repose, to stare up at the sky and listen to the leaves in the wind.
A place to chat with your girlfriends about the day.
A spot to catch a glimpse of your crush.
A place to feel welcomed, included and inspired.
-LeuWebb Projects
Located within the forested park just outside the Burnhamthorpe Community Centre lies Fungi of the Woods, an imaginative interpretation of the sociability of mushrooms that is conceptually based upon the ways in which community members connect with each other.
Within a forest park grows a cluster of mushrooms, waiting to be discovered. Mushrooms play characters in fairytales, have been sought by Indigenous peoples and European foragers for their medicinal properties, and speak to the interconnectedness of species. Popping up when conditions are just right, the mushroom spore grows from of an underground network that may stretch for miles. They represent the possibility of transformation, of ecological interconnectedness, of collaboration between species.
Fungi of the Woods celebrates a space for community and opens creative possibility of social connection for all, while subtly communicating the wider connections across people and environments.
Mushrooms have vast underground networks whereby they can communicate with each other to warn of danger, alert to positive growing conditions, and ultimately create a community. Mushrooms are the fruiting bodies of underground fungal networks called mycorrhiza. These networks break down soil nutrients and connect tree roots along long great distances. Mushrooms, through mycorrhiza, use means of communication that are not immediately visible, and so too do people. Through body language and gestures, cultural norms and values, we also communicate through non-verbal means. Equally important are these means and methods, particularly in a neighbourhood that is as diverse and unique as Applewood – Rathwood.
The cluster of sculptural mushrooms is connected to the diagonal path of the Community Centre’s open space via a universally accessible rubberized surface.
The ground plane is playfully coloured by rubberized surfacing strands referencing the network of mycorrhiza around the bases of the mushrooms. The tall mushroom acts as a canopy to protect visitors from sun, rain, and snow. The top of the shorter mushroom is of an accessible seat height. Its surface gently curves upwards, allowing teens to lean back and look at the sky, for wheelchair visitors to nest beside, and for children to scamper upwards, and then rise to a rounded top for perching – a place to see and be seen.
The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.
As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.
The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.
The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.
The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.
These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.
The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.
In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.
Poverty is the state for the majority of the world’s people and nations. Why is this? Is it enough to blame poor people for their own predicament? Have they been lazy, made poor decisions, and been solely responsible for their plight? What about their governments? Have they pursued policies that actually harm successful development? Such causes of poverty and inequality are no doubt real. But deeper and more global causes of poverty are often less discussed.
Behind the increasing interconnectedness promised by globalization are global decisions, policies, and practices. These are typically influenced, driven, or formulated by the rich and powerful. These can be leaders of rich countries or other global actors such as multinational corporations, institutions, and influential people.
In the face of such enormous external influence, the governments of poor nations and their people are often powerless. As a result, in the global context, a few get wealthy while the majority struggle.
Available:
www.selekkt.com/f/manufacturer/1061
Paper Color: White - Matt
Ink Color: Black & Orange
Edition: 25
Size: A3
Weight: 250g/m2
Artwork by Karl Addison
For More Information:
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As Karl Addison’s art and vision evolves—from blank slate, to paper, to mural, to installation, to unoccupied public space—our understanding and comprehension of the world around us begins to unfold as well. We may not notice his input, infiltrating our subconscious—our everyday—but it’s there. A beautiful woman’s face composed of negative space watching peacefully over a cemetery in Wedding, a fragile old Jewish woman towering over a decommissioned factory in Berlin, an urban zoo of imagined creatures deposited all over the globe, an abandoned room filled with 4,500 fat babies…Addison’s art and commentary on history and culture are everywhere, becoming part of the collective unconscious.
Through his travels to Italy, Israel, Japan, throughout the US, and his current residence in Berlin, Addison’s overarching theme of people and the spaces they occupy and interact with has taken shape. By focusing on pieces, which work to become part of public space rather than interrupt it, his intent to create regenerative art through murals and other mediums is being actualized. He has achieved this both independently and collaboratively with other contemporary artists and painters, most notably James Boullough. Addison’s recent and current collaborative projects also highlight his more narrowed focus of interconnectedness, “connecting humanity around the world with different cultures from different places,” he wants us to value tiny lines, details, to appreciate a world view and hopefully, start extolling minute details of our own.
It takes an extraordinary person, one with talent, courage, and patience, to express himself the way Addison does. To project his voice and vision for the world to see—to rip it out of a sketch book or a blank page in his mind—and produce it. To take it beyond the two-dimensional and spray paint, wheat paste, bomb, the side of a building with an illimitable piece of art. To exhibit in public space—on walls, on clothing, in art galleries—what a beautiful fucking thing. Art—“a new mode of obtaining power of mind over mind” leaving the watching to the watched.
- written by jennifer weitman
Language not only communicates, it defines culture, nature, history, humanity, and ancestry. The indigenous languages of the Arctic have been formed and shaped in close contact with their environment. They are a valuable source of information and a wealth of knowledge on human interactions with nature is encoded in these languages. If a language is lost, a world is lost. This deep knowledge and interconnectedness is expressed in Arctic song, subsistence practices, and other cultural expressions but especially in place names across the Arctic. Place names of the indigenous peoples reflect subsistence practices, stories, dwelling sites, spawning sites, migratory routes of animals, and links to the sacred realms of the indigenous peoples of the north. From surveys it was possible to calculate change in the absolute number of speakers and proportion of speakers for 44 of the surveyed languages. Only 4 languages displayed an increase in absolute numbers of speakers, proportion of speakers and net population. Thirty nine of the surveyed languages experienced a decrease in vitality over the last decade, i.e., a decrease in numbers of speakers and in the proportion of speakers within their populations. Thirty-five languages experienced reductions in proportion of speakers and 22 of these ranged from 10–50%. Of the remaining languages all but seven experienced reductions of over 10% in the absolute numbers of speakers within their populations. Some languages, such as the Enet language of the Russian Federation experienced a 70% decrease in the numbers of speakers. Only twelve languages displayed an increase in absolute numbers of speakers The Inuit language(s) had the highest gain while the Chukchi language had the greatest loss.
For any form of publication, please include the link to this page:
This photo has been graciously provided to be used in the GRID-Arendal resources library by: Hugo Ahlenius, GRID-Arendal & CAFF
Complete - Located at 1st and McDowell in Phoenix, Az
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Video: vimeo.com/43263469
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As Karl Addison’s art and vision evolves—from blank slate, to paper, to mural, to installation, to unoccupied public space—our understanding and comprehension of the world around us begins to unfold as well. We may not notice his input, infiltrating our subconscious—our everyday—but it’s there. A beautiful woman’s face composed of negative space watching peacefully over a cemetery in Wedding, a fragile old Jewish woman towering over a decommissioned factory in Berlin, an urban zoo of imagined creatures deposited all over the globe, an abandoned room filled with 4,500 fat babies…Addison’s art and commentary on history and culture are everywhere, becoming part of the collective unconscious.
Through his travels to Italy, Israel, Japan, throughout the US, and his current residence in Berlin, Addison’s overarching theme of people and the spaces they occupy and interact with has taken shape. By focusing on pieces, which work to become part of public space rather than interrupt it, his intent to create regenerative art through murals and other mediums is being actualized. He has achieved this both independently and collaboratively with other contemporary artists and painters, most notably James Boullough. Addison’s recent and current collaborative projects also highlight his more narrowed focus of interconnectedness, “connecting humanity around the world with different cultures from different places,” he wants us to value tiny lines, details, to appreciate a world view and hopefully, start extolling minute details of our own.
It takes an extraordinary person, one with talent, courage, and patience, to express himself the way Addison does. To project his voice and vision for the world to see—to rip it out of a sketch book or a blank page in his mind—and produce it. To take it beyond the two-dimensional and spray paint, wheat paste, bomb, the side of a building with an illimitable piece of art. To exhibit in public space—on walls, on clothing, in art galleries—what a beautiful fucking thing. Art—“a new mode of obtaining power of mind over mind” leaving the watching to the watched.
- written by jennifer weitman
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Pótoprens, Haiti.
Flows of people, pigs, goats, like an exodus of unorganized ants of different colonies who have all lost their queen. Everyone here is a juggler. Juggling with all that is left. Balancing enormous heavy burdens on the heads, screaming "dlo, dlo, dlo!!" "Water, water, water!" Barking, singing in Kreole & cacophonic un-understandable sounds at first. Sweat, dust, lots of dust, heat, smells of damped trash, cleaned clothes hanging on barbwire, on trees or roofs to dry.
Cité Soleil.
Chaos into chaos. Naked children running, beautiful, smiling, suspicious & clever. "Blanc! Hey you! Chocolate?" The first words they address you if you're white. Being white here means not being Haitian. You can be Mauritanian - you will still be white. UN soldiers. Minustah. Logbase. Armed Militaries, armed gangs. The armed gangs enhance their "activity" of extortion especially in September - October. They have to find money to send their kids to school. Most of them with wearing their blue "Unicef" bag -part of the "Go-to-school" kit. But they still need the money for shoes and uniforms. Jealousy. Treachery. Haiti, Republic ONG - the NGO Republic. It's hard being thrown a tiny piece of bread and having to share it among so many people. It drives humanity crazy.
The effort of building some artisan labs in such a place. Project started, project financed, funds now finished. Structure, built. Machines, given. Training, given. Structures, robbed, often. Machines, half are already broken. Artists: amazing. Creative, brave. All they want is to earn their living by working, not being part of the gangs. But living and working in a place ruled by them, you can't pretend they're not there. They'll never let you forget they are. Not easy, not at all. Materials, often unavailable, or very expensive. Everything is imported. The challenge: for these labs to produce enough to sustain themselves. Producing, selling, to the rich “Blancs” who can afford it. We're doing it, every day, with a bit of luck, a lot of effort.
But working here, going every day down from Petionville, the "wealthy" neighborhood, to Cité Soleil, one of the poorest slums of the continent, and dealing with all this... It's sometimes just too much. You can't process everything in one Blanc's heart; sometimes it seems too spongy not to drown. It makes you scream from the inside, a long silent scream, before you can breathe in again and start putting the pieces of this scattered puzzle back together.
-Francesca D.
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Photo Credit: Kat Nania - www.kendonphotography.com/
As an outsider how must i appear? We all live in separate worlds. Leading separate lives. Can it be that we are all interconnected! I am. We are.Love them as yourself as we all once were strangers.
Week 9 Odds & Ends (1041-1045)12/08 – 12/12/2019 ID 1041
Arthur Dove American 1880-1946
Sunrise, Northport Harbor , 1929
Oil on canvas
Sunrise, Northport Harbor depicts an area on Long Island’s North Shore favored by Dove. Completed in 1929, it epitomizes the artist’s newly evolved vocabulary of swelling, curvilinear forms of modulating color, through which he sought to portray a vital, generative perception of nature. Although renowned for his production of perhaps the earliest abstract works by an American, Dove alternated his imagery between representational and nonrepresentational modes, unified by a common aesthetic of repeating, often interlocking shapes that reveal his belief in the essential movement and interconnectedness of life.
This painting was exhibited at An American Place, the Manhattan gallery run by the photographer and influential promoter of American Modernism Alfred Stieglitz, who championed Dove’s work from the beginning of the latter’s career.
Gift of John S. McGovern, Class of 1926 y1962-44
From the Placard: Princeton University Art Museum, NJ
Had a great day yesterday putting on a workshop for a wonderful bunch of folks at the Middlewood Trust down on the River Roeburn.
It is sometimes a little nervy as my approach is really unstructured but with good reason. Tapping into your creative core is a process of not trying and not doing, using nature to inspire you by having no expectations of what you might make, or that you will create anything at all.
It seems counter-intuitive but it is actually the secret formula: a thoroughly intoxicating mix of the sound of rushing water in your ears, the stilled mind and soul with senses a-fixed on Mother Nature and a runaway unconscious mind, handbrake off, careering downhill.
It is really stupendously satisfying to be gently floating downstream into someone's flow when they're involved in my workshop and communing with nature and just simply getting it. I think there were a few epiphanies of varying intensities and the most reward comes from those who report beforehand that they did not consider themselves artistic, didn't think it would be for them and are basically convinced that they would be devoid of ideas and inspiration.
After discovering the process of switching off to switch on, the ideas come like a runaway train and I grin with glee as they describe to me how nature directed them and what a surprise it is to be full of inspiration.
I am very happy to show people this process but I often need to remind myself to do the very same. Don't try and just be.
I'm always inspired by what my work-shoppers come up with. Everyone has different ideas and interpretations and tunes into different aspects of nature. And after spending the day with them yesterday I had to go back down to the river again today to have a look at what had happened to what they had made, get some snaps of the ones I'd missed and (not) try to make something myself.
Adam had lashed struts of bracken together and a I fancied a go myself so I made a pyramid to go over the stack I built yesterday.
I thought I could call it some sort of megalithic power triangle that I would power a light bulb with had I wanted to, but really this was in the same territory as making a bow and arrow with your mate Tim from next door when you were 8. Lashing struts and making various 3D shapes will take some additional pondering in anticipation of another day.
I wandered around in the river in my wellies, slipping on mossy rocks and occasionally letting water into one or the other when I misjudged the depth.
There was a big, bad boulder in the middle further upstream with many overhanging Alders nearby so I considered covering it in leaves.
I've never made anything with Alder leaves before, or Alder anything really and I was immediately struck by how circular the leaves were. I plucked a few from a branch dipped them in the warmish water and started to lay them on the stone, they needed to be backside up to adhere properly as they have a slightly upward V curve to them. The veins and stem are quite prominent and like all leaves, so very attractive to the leaf-o-phile.
The wind was coming in little gusts and just like someone who was blowing out birthday candles one leaf lifted and landed in the water in front of me. It spun around in a little eddy, around and around and around. Its roundness struck me even more and was amused by how it spun. Now aware of what the breeze was doing and how water was not going to be enough to stick down these leaves I started to change tack. Spinning and roundness hmmm.
I went back to one of the trees and looked again at the leaves and I saw they came in sets of sizes. Immediately I saw a distinctive pattern and like a flash jumbled up ideas all became linked into a single express train of thought.
A circle of circles of increasing sizes would fit together and grow outwards whilst radiating their life giving stems from the centre to the edge. The smallest leaves in a set of five form the centre, with the next size from the tree forming the next five surrounding the first in interlocking concentric circles, growing out like a flower and somehow expressing the growth pattern of the Alder leaves.
When I have a moment like this and I feel like I've channeled a pattern in nature it is hard to contain the bubbling excitement that's inside. It doesn't happen often but when it does it's very invigorating indeed.
As I added each concentric ring of another five leaves, each set larger than the last, the thorns were simply stitched into the most practical place to fix each new leaf, and yet somehow the leaf growth pattern seemed to be embued throughout the piece.
Sadly these attributes aren't all that clear in an image sized for the web, it is something that really needs to be seen up close and ideally in person. Well I saw it so that's all that counts ;-)! But seriously I removed it from the river as it was already starting to rain and as I was walking back up the hill, left it on a rock by the path. Perhaps someone will chance upon it and be able to see what it is all about.
Whether or not they do it doesn't matter and it was all those moments of stillness that counted, those and the pleasure of seeing a couple of tiny sticklebacks swimming beneath the structure, kicking up swirls in the silt and the sand.
It's those tiny, precious moments of being, those instants of interconnectedness that count, the circle leaf spinning around in the eddies and the water spider skating across the film of the coppery water.
Not being and doing and not doing and being, what after all is there else left to know.
In memoriam: the “Utah” Blue Spruce (1933-2014)
Utah's state tree was the Blue Spruce, Picea pungens, from 1933 to March 2014. By statute it was referred to as the Blue Spruce and that is one of its common names.
Because of the reference to our state tree as the “Colorado” Blue Spruce in 4th grade elementary school text books, some often misguided efforts have been made to change our state tree (which instead should have involved some changes to the text books). The latest of these efforts succeeded (partly as a publicity stunt) in early 2014 when Utah Governor Gary Herbert (who personally made a great push for the change and made it part of his State of the State address) signed a bill to change the state's tree to the also beautiful Quaking aspen (Populus tremuloides).
This was done however to a large degree out of ignorance.
A similar effort was made in 2008 when a 4th grade class pushed to instead make the “Utah” Juniper the state tree.
Colorado also designated the Blue Spruce but not until 1939, more than five years after Utah's designation. Supposedly Colorado had long been considering it before Utah's designation. It is not uncommon however for states to have the same state tree.
Essentially our text books were wrong in referring to the tree as only the “Colorado” Blue Spruce and should have instead educated school children (and future legislators) that common names are simply that, and that the Blue Spruce is a Utah native tree. The “Utah” juniper is also not limited in distribution to Utah.
While it is true that the Blue Spruce occurs to a greater degree in Colorado than Utah and that its type locality was named from a plant originally collected in Colorado (by Dr. Charles Parry, who also botanized in Utah and made significant botanical contributions), this does mean it is more of a Colorado than a Utah tree. In fact the Quaking Aspen has a type locality that is uncertain and is believed to be somewhere in Canada and was in any event not based on a tree from Utah. And, ironically, the aspen tree is certainly equally, if not more, iconic of Colorado than Utah. And the Quaking Aspen has a much more extensive distribution throughout much of North America compared to the more narrowly distributed Blue Spruce and is in that sense less emblematic of the western United States.
Central Utah's extensive aspen stand dubbed Pando is thought to be the largest living organism on the planet. Each connected plant is genetically identical (clones). Somehow the idea of this interconnectedness was thought to represent a symbol of Utah's reproductive prolificness, its connectedness in general, and the ability of everyone to work together collectively. Unless we consider ourselves to be genetically identical clones and have the common goal of overpopulation, this symbology is questionable. And in another ironic twist, Pando is thought to be dying from climate changes; yet our state (and federal) legislators largely “do not believe” that climate change even exists. The Blue Spruce is also to some degree a tree in trouble due to climate change, but not as much the Quaking Aspen.
Did Utah want to turn over a new leaf (the analogy used in Herbert's 2014 State of the State address) by designating a state tree the most famous member of which is dying? Is this not instead symbolic of a state that fails to use science and facts in its decision-making process? And increasingly in the West in general?
Sept. 24, 2014, Brighton area, Wasatch-Cache forest, Salt Lake County, Utah
Wat Plai Laem is a breathtaking Buddhist temple complex located on the island of Koh Samui in Thailand.
This stunning sanctuary is a true feast for the senses, blending awe-inspiring architecture, vibrant colors, and a serene atmosphere that leaves you appreciating the scale of the enterprise. The finesse in details is wanting when you compare it to other statues and buildings that you see in Thailand or Srilanka or India.
The main highlight of Wat Plai Laem is the iconic 18-armed statue of the Goddess of Mercy, Guanyin, that is not in the picture though.
The temple's design incorporates elements of Chinese and Thai traditions and was in part designed by distinguished Thai artist Jarit Phumdonming with a whole lot of help from the Chinese community.
The Laughing Buddha is a depiction typical to Chinese influence. You do not see Buddha in such cheery radiance anywhere in India or elsewhere.
Koh Samui is serene., At the Wat Plai Laem one is reminded of the profound teachings of Buddhism
Perchance, we can contemplate the interconnectedness of all things and the importance of finding balance and harmony in our lives
and have a laugh.
_DSC4889 nef 2024
The Joshua Tree (Yucca brevifolia): A Symbol of Resilience in the Arid Wilderness
Introduction:
The Joshua Tree (Yucca brevifolia) stands as an iconic symbol of the American Southwest, particularly in the Mojave Desert. This remarkable tree, with its distinctive silhouette and tenacious existence in harsh desert conditions, has captivated the imagination of scientists, artists, and nature enthusiasts alike. This essay explores the various facets of the Joshua Tree, delving into its biology, ecological significance, cultural importance, and the challenges it faces in an ever-changing environment.
Botanical Overview:
The Joshua Tree, scientifically known as Yucca brevifolia, belongs to the Agavaceae family. This perennial evergreen plant is characterized by its tall, branching stem, which gives it a tree-like appearance, despite being a member of the yucca genus. The tree's greenish-blue, sword-shaped leaves are arranged in dense rosettes, providing a unique aesthetic appeal.
The Joshua Tree is an endemism, primarily found in the Mojave Desert, spanning portions of California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. Its scientific name, Yucca brevifolia, reflects its short leaves, distinguishing it from other yucca species. The tree's growth is slow, and it typically takes several decades to reach maturity, with some specimens living for centuries.
Ecological Significance:
The Joshua Tree plays a crucial role in the desert ecosystem, providing habitat and sustenance for various wildlife species. The tree's flowers, which bloom in spring, attract pollinators such as yucca moths. These moths play a vital role in the tree's reproductive cycle, as they lay eggs in the tree's flowers, aiding in pollination.
Additionally, the tree's branching structure provides nesting sites for birds, while its tough, spiky leaves offer shelter to small animals seeking refuge from predators. The fallen leaves create a protective layer on the desert floor, helping to retain moisture and enrich the soil.
Cultural and Historical Importance:
The Joshua Tree has deep cultural and historical significance, especially among the indigenous peoples of the region. Native American tribes, such as the Cahuilla, Chemehuevi, and Mojave, have revered the Joshua Tree for centuries, incorporating it into their folklore, art, and daily lives.
Early American pioneers navigating the vast desert landscapes often relied on the Joshua Tree as a navigational marker, earning it the name "Joshua" from Mormon settlers who thought the tree's outstretched branches resembled the biblical figure Joshua pointing the way to the Promised Land.
The iconic imagery of the Joshua Tree has also made it a symbol of the American West, featured prominently in art, literature, and popular culture. The tree's stoic presence in the arid landscape has inspired countless artists, including photographers, painters, and musicians.
Challenges and Conservation:
Despite its resilience, the Joshua Tree faces numerous challenges that threaten its continued existence. Climate change, with rising temperatures and altered precipitation patterns, poses a significant threat to the tree's survival. Prolonged droughts and extreme weather events can weaken or kill mature trees, while affecting the germination and establishment of new seedlings.
Human activities, such as urbanization, off-road vehicle use, and illegal collection of plants, further exacerbate the pressures on Joshua Tree populations. The expansion of residential and commercial developments infringes upon the tree's habitat, disrupting ecological balance and reducing available space for the species to thrive.
Conservation efforts are underway to address these challenges and ensure the long-term survival of the Joshua Tree. Initiatives involve habitat restoration, public education, and policy advocacy to mitigate the impact of climate change and human activities on the species. The Joshua Tree's listing as a threatened species under the U.S. Endangered Species Act highlights the urgency of these conservation endeavors.
Conclusion:
The Joshua Tree, with its stoic presence in the harsh Mojave Desert, symbolizes resilience and adaptation in the face of formidable challenges. Beyond its biological significance, the tree is deeply woven into the cultural fabric of the American Southwest, embodying the spirit of endurance and the interconnectedness of life in arid landscapes. As we navigate an era marked by environmental change, the conservation of the Joshua Tree stands as a testament to our commitment to preserving the natural wonders that define and enrich our world.
Step into the mesmerizing world of teamLab’s Life Survives by the Power of Life II (2020), a digital masterpiece blending calligraphy, nature, and life’s profound unity. This 60-minute looping installation challenges the boundaries between art and audience, immersing viewers in a seamless interplay of physical and artistic spaces. The artwork reimagines the kanji character for “life” (生, sei) through Spatial Calligraphy, a technique pioneered by teamLab that explores the depth, power, and fluidity of brushstrokes in a three-dimensional realm.
This creation transcends traditional two-dimensional art forms, utilizing teamLab’s Ultrasubjective Space concept to dissolve the perceived boundary between viewer and artwork. Unlike conventional framed pieces, where the surface separates observer and art, Life Survives by the Power of Life II extends into the audience’s environment, fostering an intimate and unified experience. The result is an artwork that blurs the lines between nature, civilization, and the individual.
Drawing inspiration from the continuity of life’s blessings and challenges, the piece asserts a timeless truth: existence is interconnected. Vibrant digital renderings of natural motifs and bold calligraphy merge to symbolize resilience and beauty amidst life’s dualities. Witnessing this work is not merely observing—it’s becoming a part of its living, breathing essence. Perfect for those seeking to engage deeply with art that defies conventions, Life Survives by the Power of Life II is a profound reminder of life’s interconnectedness and beauty.
The soft hum of Jefferson Airplane’s melodic, acoustic instrumental song, Embryonic Journey, surfs on the spaces of air reserved for sound in my room. I have always figured Grace Slick’s tremendous voice to be capable of providing a gentle anthem for my ruminations and reflections. Some of my finest musings came from a comparable scene: a dark and open room filled with flickering light and jumping shadows which have been discarded by the atomic tangerine flames wavering in the fireplace beside me. The flames pop and jump, dancing to songs like Today or Comin’ Back to Me. Sometimes I wonder if the fire is listening to the words of the songs, the romantic strums of the guitar, or the beating drum. The fire is very much alive, as are the eroding mountains, the bleeding sandstone walls, the gliding and wild running rivers, the unbreakable rocks sleeping on the valley floors and the accumulating snow in the higher elevations.
The desert air is daubed with a frigid shade of winter tonight. Maybe my memory has been selectively blurred by four years of patient study through countless textbooks, for I recall much warmer winter air blanketing the southwest landscape this time of year. Nevertheless, wintertime has arrived with a rush of brittle air and frosty temperatures across the American desert lands. Paralleling the winter season is the holiday season. From Hanukah to Christmas, Kwanza, Boxing Day, and even the Earth’s Winter Solstice, the shifting weather always seems to be enough reason to bring families together for large meals, gifts, and holiday cheer. We have a small and very untraditional family. At the end of the day it is just Greg, me, and little Miss Charlotte. Our extended families are spread from Oregon to Wisconsin, Texas, and even back East in Massachusetts. We typically spend the holiday season on the road, in the wild, with cameras, tents, and sleeping bags, but this year the weather required warmer lodging. The world is so much more discreet in the winter. The parks are not full; the roads in the higher elevations, those that are away from ski resorts and public commons, are typically empty. It is much more possible to be alone in a winter landscape in the Southwest than any other time of year. Our small trio requires silence and solitude—the nutrients of our souls. Fittingly so, this holiday season we escaped the city in search of that peaceful silence that our spirits were craving.
We had no set destination. No determined or mapped out places. We spent a day cooking and dehydrating foods for the journey, packing winter clothing snow boots, camera gear and writing equipment. We looked at weather maps and forecasts without a decision of where to go. The following morning, on Christmas Eve, I folded a bronzed cashmere blanket around the floor of our miniature schnauzer’s dog kennel, grabbed her leash, and fastened her collar. Hester is a salt and pepper colored schnauzer. She’s a little over a year old and a terrifically happy puppy that loves to hike, travel, and run up and down sandstone canyons and mountain trails. She quickly made her way into the grey box where she travels. Greg positioned her in the backseat of the car, next to Charlotte. He secured the door and we sat in our own chairs, buckled seat belts, and then backed the car out of the garage. As we sat parked in the driveway, watching the garage door slowly seal the open air away from our home, Greg looked to me and asked, “Where are we heading?” I sat for a moment, thinking of the weather, our two young companions, and the time we had set aside for the trip and replied, “Utah. Let’s go to Utah”. Greg flashed his charming smile and backed out of the driveway. And as simple as that we were on our way.
The highway led us through a maze of holiday shoppers and travelers. Las Vegas was bleeding with anxieties. Drivers flushed their rage by honking and screaming at one another, a far cry from the holiday cheer everyone talks about this time of year. On any average day there are about a hundred thousand or more tourists in the city. Yearly, about forty million visitors come to see the glitter in the Mojave. The holiday season sees a rush of travelers that pile in to this desert valley in such large amounts that on New Year’s Eve the strip is closed off to allow only foot traffic. Las Vegas is the glittering land of consumerism. Everything in this city is designed for the purchaser: the lavish restaurants and casinos, the shimmering lights of the strip that sing a song to visitors, asking them for coins and dollars or swipes of whatever type of plastic they have tucked away in their wallets. “Buy. Buy. Buy.” it sings. More money flows in this city during the course of half an hour than most people make in a year. You can find almost anything you could ever need or desire in this intensifying metropolis. Even dreams. Dreams are for sale in Las Vegas. With a simple bet and the ensuing pull of a lever it is possible, or so we are taught to think, to win a better life. That better life opens the door to more money which equates to more consumption and thus higher rates of environmental degradation.
In an over-consumption culture, we seem to always overlook the connection of how our purchasing behavior and choices impact the world around us. According to National Geographic writer Hillary Mayell, “Approximately 1.7 billion people worldwide now belong to the “consumer class” –the group of people characterized by diets of highly processed food, desire for bigger houses, more and bigger cars, higher levels of debt, and lifestyles devoted to the accumulation of non-essential goods” (Mayell). As hard as it may be while living in an unsustainable city like Las Vegas, Greg and I strive to have sustainable living practices as much as possible. Fittingly so, this is one reason we rarely participate in the consumerism that gridlocks shopping malls and stores this time of year. Instead of spending hours in checkout lines, we find ourselves desperately seeking an escape from the reminder of how materialistic, acquisitive, and unsustainable our species continues to become. As shoppers raced to malls in search of last minute gifts, we were quickly racing out of the valley, leaving behind Las Vegas and the hectic urgency of Sin City.
We drove over four hours, breaking away from society like prisoners absconding. We entered Utah and began our climb into the higher elevations. The temperature gauge on the dash slowly dipped below freezing as we ascended into the mountains. Rural Utah existed outside of my car window, flashing by with each stretch of mile, showcasing quaint and warm homes with smoke billowing out of the chimneys. Small stores were dark and flashed the word “CLOSED” in bright red lights, reminding travelers that consumerism was not as important as quiet time with family. There are still stores that close on Christmas Eve. Yes, they do exist. These places rightfully relieve employees of their occupational duties, encouraging them to embrace loved ones without interruption. They forego the monetary gains of staying open—gains achieved to promote over-consumption and quench the thirst of the hungry shopper.
Greg and I discussed the relationship between story and sense of place as we drove through the countryside. Words are some of the most powerful tools we have in our human arsenal. More authoritative than any weapon ever created, words have the unique and contrasting ability to create peace and war. You see, we can sew them together to form the quilted patterns of oral and written narratives. They can facilitate others to understand the senses of place that are described in stories. Oral narratives existed long before written history tracked the patriarchal dominance of man over nature. Words have always been used by humans to communicate significant events, relationships between humans, and the significance of understanding the interconnectedness of all life forms. Ralph Waldo Emerson understood the significance of reflection and words. He said, “A man's power to connect his thought with its proper symbol, and so to utter it, depends on the simplicity of his character, that is, upon his love of truth, and his desire to communicate it without loss.” Thus we use our words to communicate the veracity of the natural world and in our photographic quest Greg and I seek to pair this truth with visual evidence to underline the significance of conservation, sustainability, and systems thinking. Storytelling is a gentle art that enlivens the land and forces each of us to acknowledge our roles in helping sustain it.
The fire sitting next to me as I sit here this evening, writing this text, is just as alive as I am. It breathes and moves, dancing in the dark shadows of the evening. Its life is commanded by the availability of oxygen much like my own. Without oxygen we both die. It sustains us. Though we take different forms, me in my human body and fire in its ethereal and fluid figure, we are the same; two dependent life forms existing because of something else. My ancestors in the Muscogee Creek tribe explained the significance of fire through story. Their tale describes how the tribe enlisted the help of brave Rabbit to bring fire to their people.
Fire was sent by Thunderbirds, through lightning, to a tree, on an island, filled with Weasels. The Weasels were stingy with the fire and refused to give it to any other animal. Their island was surrounded by water too deep for people to cross. The humans sat on their land watching the smoke rise from the Sycamore tree which caught the first sparks from the lightning. It was wintertime and the tribe suffered greatly from the cold. They spoke to the other animals around them, asking for support and aid in their quest to obtain fire from the Weasels. Knowing the violent nature of the Weasel, only one animal rose to the occasion. Rabbit was brave. He could swim and run faster than the Weasels and he recognized how his skills in dancing would be able to allow him to join the weasels in their nightly ritual of fire and dance. He covered himself in the sticky material produced by pine wood and quickly swam to the Weasel’s island. The Weasels welcomed the Rabbit and his beautiful gift of dance by dancing around a huge fire. As they danced around the fire, the Weasel’s would approach the fire, bow, and then back away from it. The eager Weasel’s beckoned the Rabbit to lead them in the dance and he followed suit, leading the ritualized movement, coming closer to the fire. Rabbit bowed low as he got close to the fire and suddenly the pine tar on his hair exploded in flames. He escaped with the fire clinging to his head. The Weasel’s realized that they had been tricked and angrily chased after him but the Rabbit was too quick. He outran them and then jumped in the water, swimming his way to the people with his head on fire. Furiously the Weasels summoned the Thunderbirds to bring rain so the fire stole fire would be killed. The Thunderbirds answered the call and spread rain upon the Earth for three days. Rabbit protected the fire from the rain by building a fire in the embrace of an old hollow tree. After the rain ceased he brought the fire to the people. From then forward the Creeks housed fire in their homes when it rained. They protected the fire’s life much like the fire guarded them from the cold.
Stories can show us the significance of life and the importance of understanding how things like fire and mountains, valleys, and rivers sustain us and the responsibilities we have to protect them from harm. We are interconnected with everything around us. The landscapes that flashed by my window as we drove that cold night, the rivers we crossed, the snowflakes that began to fall silently against the lonely road before us. Everything is connected you see. Our journey into the cold winter countryside of southern Utah was intent on reminding us of that connection. I told the story of the Rabbit and Fire to Charlotte during our drive. She likes stories and always fills journals with many of her own creations. Storytelling has been a part of our family since long before she or I were ever born and it is something we attempt to continue in our own way.
As we turned down the road to Bryce Canyon National Park, the sun was coming to a rest on the Western horizon. We pulled into Ruby’s Inn, a nice old lodge located outside Bryce Canyon National Park and look around at the empty surrounding area. Stores and most of the hotels in the area were closed for the season. The quiet of the park was appreciated and paired well with the cold airs of winter that chilled the upper elevations. The first few flakes of a winter storm began falling as we unloaded our photography gear, food, and clothing from our vehicle into our room. The familiar, “I’m hungry”, cry from my nine year old daughter came soon after we shut the door of our rented abode. My stomach agreed with her plea and I went to the ice chest to prepare our Christmas Eve dinner.
We do not eat processed or junk/fast foods. Restaurant eating is met with hesitation these days since we have cleansed our diets to more sustainable practices. We travel with our own homemade yummies for each meal and snacks in between. This allows us to have control over what we’re putting into our bodies, it helps us save money, and it ensures that we’re getting the right nutrients we need. Road food is rarely a good idea for our crew. Instead, bringing our own food allows us to control our environmental impact. We refuse to contribute to the growing mass of landfill waste created by fast-food consumers.
Greg and I had made a vegetarian farrow and bean winter stew the day before our trip. It was a robust stew filled with a homemade herbed broth, the stewed tomatoes we had frozen from our fall harvest, heirloom carrots, and a medley of organic veggies including new potatoes, celery, onions, cabbage and dinosaur kale. We heated the soup on our Coleman stove, scooped a ladle full into individual bowls and then garnished them with freshly grated parmesan and a splash of olive oil. I heated a few southern buttermilk biscuits and handed one to Greg, tearing apart another to split between Charlotte and myself. We sat under a dim light in the motel room, enjoying the hearty stew and biscuits, celebrating our love and togetherness that Christmas Eve. It was quiet and peaceful—exactly what we wanted when we left the city. Later that evening, we enjoyed a chocolate bottom oatmeal pie for desert and drank some hot tea before bed.
The morning came quick and our alarm clock sung us awake at 6:00am. We dressed in layers. I had three pairs of pants on, three shirts and two jackets. Living in the Midwest on the shores of Lake Michigan had prepared me for the coldness of winter in any situation. Cold climate living provides residents with a knowledge that can only be gained from suffering through biting wind chills due to lack of preparation and proper dress. You only do that once in the Midwest and then forever afterward you arrive to cold situations over-dressed and over-prepared, realizing that it’s easier to lose a layer or two rather than being on the other end of the spectrum and needing another layer or two. Even with the layered clothing and preparation for the cold temperatures, sitting at 9,100 feet in the mountains, Bryce Canyon National Park becomes a frigid ice box once the mountain winds start howling. As we arrived at twilight to our first shooting spot for the morning, Hester and Charlotte cuddled between blankets in the back of the car. Charlotte sipped her breakfast tea and munched on some sheep milk yogurt, dehydrated berries and homemade nonfat granola. Greg and I surveyed our surroundings, looking for compositions and safe areas to set up our tripods. A tapestry of snow had fallen during our nighttime sleep, accumulating from 4-10 inches in different areas of the park. Being the first people in the canyon provided us with a carpet of untouched, shimmering, new snow. The winds were relentless, stinging the naked skin on my cheeks and nose and burning through the flesh on my lips. I wore my sunglasses to protect my eyes from the bitter gusts. Frost bite was a real concern that morning considering the strength and persistence of the cold winds. The wind chill wavered from 0 – 6 F and I pulled my outer winter jacket around my face attempting to protect it from the cold. Hours later my cheeks and nose would burn red with the kiss of winter and wind.
We stood outside in the soundless park, facing the blustering cold as the sun began to wake for the day. The snowy cloudbank muted the light from the sun’s rising, creating a subtle yellow orb in the sky with no streaking lights to fill the pillars in the canyon. A flat winter light imperceptibly illuminated the ground before us but it did not cause the snow to shimmer or the salmon colored rock to glow. The light wasn’t right. The temperatures stayed well below freezing even as the sun began to rise in the sky. This is always a risk that photographers take as they face extreme temperatures in search of the light. Light is never certain and predicting how the weather will be comes down to good fortune more times than not. It was Christmas Day and we were treated with a white Christmas in the canyon that morning. We went out again in the early afternoon in hopes of catching some rays of light in the canyon. The soft, white palette of snow contrasted the red hues of Bryce Canyon’s towering columns of limestone. Each season has its principal color and each color sings a different story. Spring is decorated with a rainbow of flowers but overwhelmingly the Earth bleeds with green hues. Summertime is filled with straw colored grasses, overheated trees, and the golden rays of a hot desert sun. Fall is awakened by the reds of ivies and the soft amber saturation of falling leaves in front of a stormy sky. But winter holds the purest color in its white precipitation. As I stood and looked at the formations in the canyon I thought about the meaning of their color, the language that is used to describe them, and the stories that have encapsulated their essence.
I was reminded of a story the Paiute tribe told about Bryce Canyon and how it came to be. In 1936, a Paiute Elder named Indian Dick narrated the legend of canyon:
"Before there were any Indians, the Legend People, To-when-an-ung-wa, lived in that place. There were many of them. They were of many kinds – birds, animals, lizards and such things, but they looked like people. They were not people. They had power to make themselves look that way. For some reason the Legend People in that place were bad; they did something that was not good, perhaps a fight, perhaps some stole something….the tale is not clear at this point. Because they were bad, Coyote turned them all into rocks. You can see them in that place now all turned into rocks; some standing in rows, some sitting down, some holding onto others. You can see their faces, with paint on them just as they were before they became rocks. The name of that place is Angka-ku-wass-a-wits (red painted faces). This is the story the people tell." (USNPS)
Charlotte stood beside me, munching on a homemade granola bar as I repeated the words of the story. We looked at the red hoodoos and imagined the legend coming to life. The Coyote, standing on the overlook at Sunrise Point, as a powerful trickster he turns the To-when-an-ung-wa people into stone for their bad deeds. According to Kevin Poe, Chief of Interpretation at the park, the To-when-an-ung-wa peoples “were notorious for living too heavily upon the land” (Robert & Poe). This is why they were punished. Their unsustainable behaviors and lack of appreciation for the interconnected and systemic nature of the natural world caused their demise. Poe states, “They would drink up all these streams and the rivers in the springtime so there would be no water left for all the other creatures come summer” (NPR). And in the fall Poe describes how they would eat all of the pine nuts, leaving none for the survival of other animals during the frigid winter. The shameless overconsumption of the resource forced the rest of the animals in the area to bring the injustices to the attention of Coyote. Tricking the To-when-an-ung-wa people, Coyote invited them to a lavish banquet to feast for an entire day. They accepted his invitation and arrived adorned in war paint and fantastically colored clothing. As they sat at Coyote’s table, Poe says the Coyote cast a spell that turned them to stone. “The To-when-an-ung-wa tried to flee up over the top of the canyon rim, and in so doing –almost like a scene from the “Titanic” - you see them trampling on top of each other, writhing bodies trying to escape over the edge of the canyon, and clustered right on the brink” (Robert & Poe). In this version of the story, it was the unsustainable practices of the To-when-an-ung-wa peoples that instigated their rocky fate.
At first glimpse these stories seem to provide a simple moral on the importance of sustainability practices and good behavior. What fascinates me about these tales is that they move beyond simple moral narratives, reinforcing the significance of calling a place by its true name. The Paitue elder and Kevin Poe both referred to the structures of the canyon as people, naming them “To-when-an-ung-wa”. Saying that name in a whisper on the rim of the canyon, I was reminded of the significance this landscape held to the Paiute peoples. This canyon was not named Bryce. The tribe that lived in harmony with this landscape had called it “Anga-ku-wass-a-wits”, naming it aptly for the red painted faces of the unsustainable “To-when-an-ung-wa” peoples that now stand silently in the canyon. “Anga-ku-wass-a-wits” is an endonym, a name for a geographical feature or place that is used by the people who originate from the area. “Bryce Canyon” then is an exonym, or a name that is used by outsiders to reference a certain area. I strongly believe in calling a landscape by its real name by using the languages from first peoples and try to find the appropriate endonyms and stories about each location we visit.
My mother named me after the romantic Russian love story “Dr. Zhivago” written by Boris Pasternak. I have read the story countless times and even fallen in love with the film version. One of my favorite parts of the story is documented in the following quote. It has resonated with me for as long as I can remember and has helped inspire me to call each thing by its right name and to inspire my own child to bear witness to the remarkable beauties our world has to offer.
“Lara walked along the tracks following a path worn by pilgrims and then turned into the fields. Here she stopped and, closing her eyes, took a deep breath of the flower-scented air of the broad expanse around her. It was dearer to her than her kin, better than a lover, wiser than a book. For a moment she rediscovered the purpose of her life. She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment and to call each thing by its right name, or, if this were not within her power, to give birth out of love for life to successors who would do it in her place.” ― Boris Pasternak
The visit to Anga-ku-wass-a-wits was the first part of our winter journey. We photographed in the cold of the canyon studying how snow storms moved across the landscape and how shadows and light danced together on the hundreds of hoodoo-people that stand as reminders of the importance of sustainability practices. The light never quite took off the way we had imagined it would, but at the end of the day, Greg and I both are satisfied with the images we made and the time we spent in the canyon, as a family, on Christmas day. It definitely was not a typical American holiday, but then again, we strive to be anything other than normal. We celebrated the holiday with living trees that were decorated in a delicate arrangement of snowflakes that had fallen during our visit. These trees were alive like you and I. They were alive like the flickering fire that sits beside me in my study this evening. This is the same fire that Rabbit stole from the Weasels and brought to my people to protect. We respected the trees and honored the canyon and the Paiute peoples who walked on the trails long ago. The gifts we gave to each other bore no resemblance to the material goods of common culture. We gave each other time, thoughtful discourse, and love. What more could anyone ask for from the people they love during the holidays? We gifted ourselves another experience in a lonely landscape and it was because of this remarkable present that we became closer to the lands of southern Utah and were better able to understand their unique stories and the disappearing languages that should been used to describe them. It is my hope that this tale of our winter journey serves a similar purpose to those who find themselves navigating through the words of my text. I hope that it inspires you to find a lonely landscape and to learn its history and stories. Speak the rightful names of the areas you visit and try to connect their history to your own experiences. In doing so, you will be more capable of translating the language of the land. This act of translation guides us on our own journey, chasing the light.
My teacup is empty and I am afraid morning again will come quickly. I am retiring for the evening, but do rest assure there will be more to come later…
References:
Drink Starbucks? Wake Up And Smell The Chemicals! (2014, September 2). Retrieved December 29, 2014, from foodbabe.com/2014/09/02/drink-starbucks-wake-up-and-smell...
Kaye, L. (2013, May 23). Starbucks Is in a Unique Position To Push Consumers To Waste Less. Will It? Retrieved December 29, 2014, from www.sustainablebrands.com/news_and_views/waste_not/starbu...
Mayell, Hillary. "As Consumerism Spreads, Earth Suffers, Study Says." National Geographic. National Geographic Society, 12 Jan. 2004. Web. 28 Dec. 2014.
Siegel, Robert, and Kevin Poe. "A Paiute Take On Bryce Canyon's Hoodoos." NPR. NPR, 1 July 2008. Web. 29 Dec. 2014. .
United States National Park Service. "American Indian History." National Parks Service. U.S. Department of the Interior, 28 Dec. 2014. Web. 29 Dec. 2014.
This image displays the magnitude of links from one porn site to others. The WOT porn crawler was created to find the relationships and interconnectedness between them all.
The soft hum of Jefferson Airplane’s melodic, acoustic instrumental song, Embryonic Journey, surfs on the spaces of air reserved for sound in my room. I have always figured Grace Slick’s tremendous voice to be capable of providing a gentle anthem for my ruminations and reflections. Some of my finest musings came from a comparable scene: a dark and open room filled with flickering light and jumping shadows which have been discarded by the atomic tangerine flames wavering in the fireplace beside me. The flames pop and jump, dancing to songs like Today or Comin’ Back to Me. Sometimes I wonder if the fire is listening to the words of the songs, the romantic strums of the guitar, or the beating drum. The fire is very much alive, as are the eroding mountains, the bleeding sandstone walls, the gliding and wild running rivers, the unbreakable rocks sleeping on the valley floors and the accumulating snow in the higher elevations.
The desert air is daubed with a frigid shade of winter tonight. Maybe my memory has been selectively blurred by four years of patient study through countless textbooks, for I recall much warmer winter air blanketing the southwest landscape this time of year. Nevertheless, wintertime has arrived with a rush of brittle air and frosty temperatures across the American desert lands. Paralleling the winter season is the holiday season. From Hanukah to Christmas, Kwanza, Boxing Day, and even the Earth’s Winter Solstice, the shifting weather always seems to be enough reason to bring families together for large meals, gifts, and holiday cheer. We have a small and very untraditional family. At the end of the day it is just Greg, me, and little Miss Charlotte. Our extended families are spread from Oregon to Wisconsin, Texas, and even back East in Massachusetts. We typically spend the holiday season on the road, in the wild, with cameras, tents, and sleeping bags, but this year the weather required warmer lodging. The world is so much more discreet in the winter. The parks are not full; the roads in the higher elevations, those that are away from ski resorts and public commons, are typically empty. It is much more possible to be alone in a winter landscape in the Southwest than any other time of year. Our small trio requires silence and solitude—the nutrients of our souls. Fittingly so, this holiday season we escaped the city in search of that peaceful silence that our spirits were craving.
We had no set destination. No determined or mapped out places. We spent a day cooking and dehydrating foods for the journey, packing winter clothing snow boots, camera gear and writing equipment. We looked at weather maps and forecasts without a decision of where to go. The following morning, on Christmas Eve, I folded a bronzed cashmere blanket around the floor of our miniature schnauzer’s dog kennel, grabbed her leash, and fastened her collar. Hester is a salt and pepper colored schnauzer. She’s a little over a year old and a terrifically happy puppy that loves to hike, travel, and run up and down sandstone canyons and mountain trails. She quickly made her way into the grey box where she travels. Greg positioned her in the backseat of the car, next to Charlotte. He secured the door and we sat in our own chairs, buckled seat belts, and then backed the car out of the garage. As we sat parked in the driveway, watching the garage door slowly seal the open air away from our home, Greg looked to me and asked, “Where are we heading?” I sat for a moment, thinking of the weather, our two young companions, and the time we had set aside for the trip and replied, “Utah. Let’s go to Utah”. Greg flashed his charming smile and backed out of the driveway. And as simple as that we were on our way.
The highway led us through a maze of holiday shoppers and travelers. Las Vegas was bleeding with anxieties. Drivers flushed their rage by honking and screaming at one another, a far cry from the holiday cheer everyone talks about this time of year. On any average day there are about a hundred thousand or more tourists in the city. Yearly, about forty million visitors come to see the glitter in the Mojave. The holiday season sees a rush of travelers that pile in to this desert valley in such large amounts that on New Year’s Eve the strip is closed off to allow only foot traffic. Las Vegas is the glittering land of consumerism. Everything in this city is designed for the purchaser: the lavish restaurants and casinos, the shimmering lights of the strip that sing a song to visitors, asking them for coins and dollars or swipes of whatever type of plastic they have tucked away in their wallets. “Buy. Buy. Buy.” it sings. More money flows in this city during the course of half an hour than most people make in a year. You can find almost anything you could ever need or desire in this intensifying metropolis. Even dreams. Dreams are for sale in Las Vegas. With a simple bet and the ensuing pull of a lever it is possible, or so we are taught to think, to win a better life. That better life opens the door to more money which equates to more consumption and thus higher rates of environmental degradation.
In an over-consumption culture, we seem to always overlook the connection of how our purchasing behavior and choices impact the world around us. According to National Geographic writer Hillary Mayell, “Approximately 1.7 billion people worldwide now belong to the “consumer class” –the group of people characterized by diets of highly processed food, desire for bigger houses, more and bigger cars, higher levels of debt, and lifestyles devoted to the accumulation of non-essential goods” (Mayell). As hard as it may be while living in an unsustainable city like Las Vegas, Greg and I strive to have sustainable living practices as much as possible. Fittingly so, this is one reason we rarely participate in the consumerism that gridlocks shopping malls and stores this time of year. Instead of spending hours in checkout lines, we find ourselves desperately seeking an escape from the reminder of how materialistic, acquisitive, and unsustainable our species continues to become. As shoppers raced to malls in search of last minute gifts, we were quickly racing out of the valley, leaving behind Las Vegas and the hectic urgency of Sin City.
We drove over four hours, breaking away from society like prisoners absconding. We entered Utah and began our climb into the higher elevations. The temperature gauge on the dash slowly dipped below freezing as we ascended into the mountains. Rural Utah existed outside of my car window, flashing by with each stretch of mile, showcasing quaint and warm homes with smoke billowing out of the chimneys. Small stores were dark and flashed the word “CLOSED” in bright red lights, reminding travelers that consumerism was not as important as quiet time with family. There are still stores that close on Christmas Eve. Yes, they do exist. These places rightfully relieve employees of their occupational duties, encouraging them to embrace loved ones without interruption. They forego the monetary gains of staying open—gains achieved to promote over-consumption and quench the thirst of the hungry shopper.
Greg and I discussed the relationship between story and sense of place as we drove through the countryside. Words are some of the most powerful tools we have in our human arsenal. More authoritative than any weapon ever created, words have the unique and contrasting ability to create peace and war. You see, we can sew them together to form the quilted patterns of oral and written narratives. They can facilitate others to understand the senses of place that are described in stories. Oral narratives existed long before written history tracked the patriarchal dominance of man over nature. Words have always been used by humans to communicate significant events, relationships between humans, and the significance of understanding the interconnectedness of all life forms. Ralph Waldo Emerson understood the significance of reflection and words. He said, “A man's power to connect his thought with its proper symbol, and so to utter it, depends on the simplicity of his character, that is, upon his love of truth, and his desire to communicate it without loss.” Thus we use our words to communicate the veracity of the natural world and in our photographic quest Greg and I seek to pair this truth with visual evidence to underline the significance of conservation, sustainability, and systems thinking. Storytelling is a gentle art that enlivens the land and forces each of us to acknowledge our roles in helping sustain it.
The fire sitting next to me as I sit here this evening, writing this text, is just as alive as I am. It breathes and moves, dancing in the dark shadows of the evening. Its life is commanded by the availability of oxygen much like my own. Without oxygen we both die. It sustains us. Though we take different forms, me in my human body and fire in its ethereal and fluid figure, we are the same; two dependent life forms existing because of something else. My ancestors in the Muscogee Creek tribe explained the significance of fire through story. Their tale describes how the tribe enlisted the help of brave Rabbit to bring fire to their people.
Fire was sent by Thunderbirds, through lightning, to a tree, on an island, filled with Weasels. The Weasels were stingy with the fire and refused to give it to any other animal. Their island was surrounded by water too deep for people to cross. The humans sat on their land watching the smoke rise from the Sycamore tree which caught the first sparks from the lightning. It was wintertime and the tribe suffered greatly from the cold. They spoke to the other animals around them, asking for support and aid in their quest to obtain fire from the Weasels. Knowing the violent nature of the Weasel, only one animal rose to the occasion. Rabbit was brave. He could swim and run faster than the Weasels and he recognized how his skills in dancing would be able to allow him to join the weasels in their nightly ritual of fire and dance. He covered himself in the sticky material produced by pine wood and quickly swam to the Weasel’s island. The Weasels welcomed the Rabbit and his beautiful gift of dance by dancing around a huge fire. As they danced around the fire, the Weasel’s would approach the fire, bow, and then back away from it. The eager Weasel’s beckoned the Rabbit to lead them in the dance and he followed suit, leading the ritualized movement, coming closer to the fire. Rabbit bowed low as he got close to the fire and suddenly the pine tar on his hair exploded in flames. He escaped with the fire clinging to his head. The Weasel’s realized that they had been tricked and angrily chased after him but the Rabbit was too quick. He outran them and then jumped in the water, swimming his way to the people with his head on fire. Furiously the Weasels summoned the Thunderbirds to bring rain so the fire stole fire would be killed. The Thunderbirds answered the call and spread rain upon the Earth for three days. Rabbit protected the fire from the rain by building a fire in the embrace of an old hollow tree. After the rain ceased he brought the fire to the people. From then forward the Creeks housed fire in their homes when it rained. They protected the fire’s life much like the fire guarded them from the cold.
Stories can show us the significance of life and the importance of understanding how things like fire and mountains, valleys, and rivers sustain us and the responsibilities we have to protect them from harm. We are interconnected with everything around us. The landscapes that flashed by my window as we drove that cold night, the rivers we crossed, the snowflakes that began to fall silently against the lonely road before us. Everything is connected you see. Our journey into the cold winter countryside of southern Utah was intent on reminding us of that connection. I told the story of the Rabbit and Fire to Charlotte during our drive. She likes stories and always fills journals with many of her own creations. Storytelling has been a part of our family since long before she or I were ever born and it is something we attempt to continue in our own way.
As we turned down the road to Bryce Canyon National Park, the sun was coming to a rest on the Western horizon. We pulled into Ruby’s Inn, a nice old lodge located outside Bryce Canyon National Park and look around at the empty surrounding area. Stores and most of the hotels in the area were closed for the season. The quiet of the park was appreciated and paired well with the cold airs of winter that chilled the upper elevations. The first few flakes of a winter storm began falling as we unloaded our photography gear, food, and clothing from our vehicle into our room. The familiar, “I’m hungry”, cry from my nine year old daughter came soon after we shut the door of our rented abode. My stomach agreed with her plea and I went to the ice chest to prepare our Christmas Eve dinner.
We do not eat processed or junk/fast foods. Restaurant eating is met with hesitation these days since we have cleansed our diets to more sustainable practices. We travel with our own homemade yummies for each meal and snacks in between. This allows us to have control over what we’re putting into our bodies, it helps us save money, and it ensures that we’re getting the right nutrients we need. Road food is rarely a good idea for our crew. Instead, bringing our own food allows us to control our environmental impact. We refuse to contribute to the growing mass of landfill waste created by fast-food consumers.
Greg and I had made a vegetarian farrow and bean winter stew the day before our trip. It was a robust stew filled with a homemade herbed broth, the stewed tomatoes we had frozen from our fall harvest, heirloom carrots, and a medley of organic veggies including new potatoes, celery, onions, cabbage and dinosaur kale. We heated the soup on our Coleman stove, scooped a ladle full into individual bowls and then garnished them with freshly grated parmesan and a splash of olive oil. I heated a few southern buttermilk biscuits and handed one to Greg, tearing apart another to split between Charlotte and myself. We sat under a dim light in the motel room, enjoying the hearty stew and biscuits, celebrating our love and togetherness that Christmas Eve. It was quiet and peaceful—exactly what we wanted when we left the city. Later that evening, we enjoyed a chocolate bottom oatmeal pie for desert and drank some hot tea before bed.
The morning came quick and our alarm clock sung us awake at 6:00am. We dressed in layers. I had three pairs of pants on, three shirts and two jackets. Living in the Midwest on the shores of Lake Michigan had prepared me for the coldness of winter in any situation. Cold climate living provides residents with a knowledge that can only be gained from suffering through biting wind chills due to lack of preparation and proper dress. You only do that once in the Midwest and then forever afterward you arrive to cold situations over-dressed and over-prepared, realizing that it’s easier to lose a layer or two rather than being on the other end of the spectrum and needing another layer or two. Even with the layered clothing and preparation for the cold temperatures, sitting at 9,100 feet in the mountains, Bryce Canyon National Park becomes a frigid ice box once the mountain winds start howling. As we arrived at twilight to our first shooting spot for the morning, Hester and Charlotte cuddled between blankets in the back of the car. Charlotte sipped her breakfast tea and munched on some sheep milk yogurt, dehydrated berries and homemade nonfat granola. Greg and I surveyed our surroundings, looking for compositions and safe areas to set up our tripods. A tapestry of snow had fallen during our nighttime sleep, accumulating from 4-10 inches in different areas of the park. Being the first people in the canyon provided us with a carpet of untouched, shimmering, new snow. The winds were relentless, stinging the naked skin on my cheeks and nose and burning through the flesh on my lips. I wore my sunglasses to protect my eyes from the bitter gusts. Frost bite was a real concern that morning considering the strength and persistence of the cold winds. The wind chill wavered from 0 – 6 F and I pulled my outer winter jacket around my face attempting to protect it from the cold. Hours later my cheeks and nose would burn red with the kiss of winter and wind.
We stood outside in the soundless park, facing the blustering cold as the sun began to wake for the day. The snowy cloudbank muted the light from the sun’s rising, creating a subtle yellow orb in the sky with no streaking lights to fill the pillars in the canyon. A flat winter light imperceptibly illuminated the ground before us but it did not cause the snow to shimmer or the salmon colored rock to glow. The light wasn’t right. The temperatures stayed well below freezing even as the sun began to rise in the sky. This is always a risk that photographers take as they face extreme temperatures in search of the light. Light is never certain and predicting how the weather will be comes down to good fortune more times than not. It was Christmas Day and we were treated with a white Christmas in the canyon that morning. We went out again in the early afternoon in hopes of catching some rays of light in the canyon. The soft, white palette of snow contrasted the red hues of Bryce Canyon’s towering columns of limestone. Each season has its principal color and each color sings a different story. Spring is decorated with a rainbow of flowers but overwhelmingly the Earth bleeds with green hues. Summertime is filled with straw colored grasses, overheated trees, and the golden rays of a hot desert sun. Fall is awakened by the reds of ivies and the soft amber saturation of falling leaves in front of a stormy sky. But winter holds the purest color in its white precipitation. As I stood and looked at the formations in the canyon I thought about the meaning of their color, the language that is used to describe them, and the stories that have encapsulated their essence.
I was reminded of a story the Paiute tribe told about Bryce Canyon and how it came to be. In 1936, a Paiute Elder named Indian Dick narrated the legend of canyon:
"Before there were any Indians, the Legend People, To-when-an-ung-wa, lived in that place. There were many of them. They were of many kinds – birds, animals, lizards and such things, but they looked like people. They were not people. They had power to make themselves look that way. For some reason the Legend People in that place were bad; they did something that was not good, perhaps a fight, perhaps some stole something….the tale is not clear at this point. Because they were bad, Coyote turned them all into rocks. You can see them in that place now all turned into rocks; some standing in rows, some sitting down, some holding onto others. You can see their faces, with paint on them just as they were before they became rocks. The name of that place is Angka-ku-wass-a-wits (red painted faces). This is the story the people tell." (USNPS)
Charlotte stood beside me, munching on a homemade granola bar as I repeated the words of the story. We looked at the red hoodoos and imagined the legend coming to life. The Coyote, standing on the overlook at Sunrise Point, as a powerful trickster he turns the To-when-an-ung-wa people into stone for their bad deeds. According to Kevin Poe, Chief of Interpretation at the park, the To-when-an-ung-wa peoples “were notorious for living too heavily upon the land” (Robert & Poe). This is why they were punished. Their unsustainable behaviors and lack of appreciation for the interconnected and systemic nature of the natural world caused their demise. Poe states, “They would drink up all these streams and the rivers in the springtime so there would be no water left for all the other creatures come summer” (NPR). And in the fall Poe describes how they would eat all of the pine nuts, leaving none for the survival of other animals during the frigid winter. The shameless overconsumption of the resource forced the rest of the animals in the area to bring the injustices to the attention of Coyote. Tricking the To-when-an-ung-wa people, Coyote invited them to a lavish banquet to feast for an entire day. They accepted his invitation and arrived adorned in war paint and fantastically colored clothing. As they sat at Coyote’s table, Poe says the Coyote cast a spell that turned them to stone. “The To-when-an-ung-wa tried to flee up over the top of the canyon rim, and in so doing –almost like a scene from the “Titanic” - you see them trampling on top of each other, writhing bodies trying to escape over the edge of the canyon, and clustered right on the brink” (Robert & Poe). In this version of the story, it was the unsustainable practices of the To-when-an-ung-wa peoples that instigated their rocky fate.
At first glimpse these stories seem to provide a simple moral on the importance of sustainability practices and good behavior. What fascinates me about these tales is that they move beyond simple moral narratives, reinforcing the significance of calling a place by its true name. The Paitue elder and Kevin Poe both referred to the structures of the canyon as people, naming them “To-when-an-ung-wa”. Saying that name in a whisper on the rim of the canyon, I was reminded of the significance this landscape held to the Paiute peoples. This canyon was not named Bryce. The tribe that lived in harmony with this landscape had called it “Anga-ku-wass-a-wits”, naming it aptly for the red painted faces of the unsustainable “To-when-an-ung-wa” peoples that now stand silently in the canyon. “Anga-ku-wass-a-wits” is an endonym, a name for a geographical feature or place that is used by the people who originate from the area. “Bryce Canyon” then is an exonym, or a name that is used by outsiders to reference a certain area. I strongly believe in calling a landscape by its real name by using the languages from first peoples and try to find the appropriate endonyms and stories about each location we visit.
My mother named me after the romantic Russian love story “Dr. Zhivago” written by Boris Pasternak. I have read the story countless times and even fallen in love with the film version. One of my favorite parts of the story is documented in the following quote. It has resonated with me for as long as I can remember and has helped inspire me to call each thing by its right name and to inspire my own child to bear witness to the remarkable beauties our world has to offer.
“Lara walked along the tracks following a path worn by pilgrims and then turned into the fields. Here she stopped and, closing her eyes, took a deep breath of the flower-scented air of the broad expanse around her. It was dearer to her than her kin, better than a lover, wiser than a book. For a moment she rediscovered the purpose of her life. She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment and to call each thing by its right name, or, if this were not within her power, to give birth out of love for life to successors who would do it in her place.” ― Boris Pasternak
The visit to Anga-ku-wass-a-wits was the first part of our winter journey. We photographed in the cold of the canyon studying how snow storms moved across the landscape and how shadows and light danced together on the hundreds of hoodoo-people that stand as reminders of the importance of sustainability practices. The light never quite took off the way we had imagined it would, but at the end of the day, Greg and I both are satisfied with the images we made and the time we spent in the canyon, as a family, on Christmas day. It definitely was not a typical American holiday, but then again, we strive to be anything other than normal. We celebrated the holiday with living trees that were decorated in a delicate arrangement of snowflakes that had fallen during our visit. These trees were alive like you and I. They were alive like the flickering fire that sits beside me in my study this evening. This is the same fire that Rabbit stole from the Weasels and brought to my people to protect. We respected the trees and honored the canyon and the Paiute peoples who walked on the trails long ago. The gifts we gave to each other bore no resemblance to the material goods of common culture. We gave each other time, thoughtful discourse, and love. What more could anyone ask for from the people they love during the holidays? We gifted ourselves another experience in a lonely landscape and it was because of this remarkable present that we became closer to the lands of southern Utah and were better able to understand their unique stories and the disappearing languages that should been used to describe them. It is my hope that this tale of our winter journey serves a similar purpose to those who find themselves navigating through the words of my text. I hope that it inspires you to find a lonely landscape and to learn its history and stories. Speak the rightful names of the areas you visit and try to connect their history to your own experiences. In doing so, you will be more capable of translating the language of the land. This act of translation guides us on our own journey, chasing the light.
My teacup is empty and I am afraid morning again will come quickly. I am retiring for the evening, but do rest assure there will be more to come later…
References:
Drink Starbucks? Wake Up And Smell The Chemicals! (2014, September 2). Retrieved December 29, 2014, from foodbabe.com/2014/09/02/drink-starbucks-wake-up-and-smell...
Kaye, L. (2013, May 23). Starbucks Is in a Unique Position To Push Consumers To Waste Less. Will It? Retrieved December 29, 2014, from www.sustainablebrands.com/news_and_views/waste_not/starbu...
Mayell, Hillary. "As Consumerism Spreads, Earth Suffers, Study Says." National Geographic. National Geographic Society, 12 Jan. 2004. Web. 28 Dec. 2014.
Siegel, Robert, and Kevin Poe. "A Paiute Take On Bryce Canyon's Hoodoos." NPR. NPR, 1 July 2008. Web. 29 Dec. 2014. .
United States National Park Service. "American Indian History." National Parks Service. U.S. Department of the Interior, 28 Dec. 2014. Web. 29 Dec. 2014.
powerandmagic: POWER & MAGIC: A Queer Witch Comics Anthology… …About Women of Color, By Women of Color! Accepting submissions between February 15th - March 15th 2016. Who Are You? And Why Queer Witches? I’m Joamette Gil, a contributing cartoonist for EverydayFeminism.com as well as an all-around comics maker and social justice pusher. My heart belongs to speculative fiction and watching badass women of color get ahead. In addition to being the title for the anthology, “POWER & MAGIC” is also the imprint name I’ve been sitting on for years for my non-autobio/educational comics work. I want POWER & MAGIC PRESS’s premiere anthology to encapsulate its mission: putting forth stories by myself and others that capture the relationships between us, the powers that be, and the magic of “we.” Witches are icons of female power. They represent rebellion, transcendence, healing, feminine monstrosity, so-called “deviance,” and interconnectedness (with the earth, with their bodies, with each other). And I’m a queer witch, of course. Why Only Women of Color? Because we exist and we matter! Because our spirits soared for the Japanese magical girls on television. Because an avatar from the Southern Water Tribe captured our hearts. Because a black female protagonist is not “unbelievable” in a world where sorcery reigns and mythical beasts run amok. Because queer women of color are on the front lines of fighting for change and justice in real life. Because the fierceness it takes to survive as both a queer person, a person of color, and a woman is worthy of legend. Because comics need women like us, and women like us need to get paid. And because someone is going to ask this as well: yes, this anthology is open to all women of color, not just cisgender or single-gender women. Women are women! The Nitty Gritty Submission Period: Submissions will open at 12:00 am Pacific Standard Time on February 15th, 2016, and close at 11:59 pm on March 15th, 2016. Acceptance and rejection letters will go out on March 31st, 2016. Specs: All comics will be 6″ x 9″ (trim size) and in black & white (grayscale and tones okay). Stories will range between 3 - 13 pages long. More details will be provided to those accepted! Instructions: Send an email to powerandmagicpress@gmail.com with the subject line “Power & Magic Submission” including: The name, pronouns, and role of everyone on your team. Solo submissions are fine, too! A working title and page count for your comic (doesn’t have to be exact). A synopsis of your story, including a beginning, middle, and end. Spoil everything relevant - I need to know! - but try to keep it under 500 words. Well under. A list of any relevant publishing credits (whether you’re writing the comic, drawing it, lettering it, or doing everything yourself) plus links. Try to choose examples that best reflect the style you’re going for with the anthology comic. Self-published work/webcomics count! You can simply include a link to your art portfolio if you have no pre-existing credits, but please note that folks with examples of sequential storytelling will receive preference. Tell me about yourself, your cultural and artistic background, and why you want to be in POWER & MAGIC. Short and sweet is best! Rights: By accepting payment, you are ceding exclusive first worldwide rights to your story for a full calendar year from the date of publication, and non-exclusive worldwide reprint and digital rights in perpetuity. That means you are granting me permission to print, reprint, and sell the anthology with your work included in it (in both physical and digital format) indefinitely. It also means you are promising not to print or post your POWER & MAGIC submission until after the print copies of the anthology have been on sale for one calendar year. The *second* they have been, you can do literally anything you want with the comic pages you made - post them all on your Tumblr, reprint it as its own mini, sell that mini, submit it to other anthologies that except pre-existing work, etc - because they are YOUR sole intellectual property! Compensation: $100 per page, per team, pending Kickstarter success. If the Kickstarter does not succeed, for whatever reason, you are free to self-publish your submissions as you see fit, and I will have zero rights to publish your work! If everything goes well, compensation will also include a minimum of 10 complementary copies of the anthology for each creative team as well as the right to purchase more copies at 50% off the cover price for as long as I have copies in stock. If everything goes very well (overfunding), excess funds will be used to raise creator pay! What Should I NOT Submit? No fan comics. No autobio. No prose. No one-off illustrations. No unexamined bigotry. No genitals (sex and sexuality are fine so long as they service the plot). No excessive gore. No torture porn. No steampunk. Wait! I have another question! Pop it in here so I can build up a FAQ! :)
This image displays the magnitude of links from one porn site to others. The WOT porn crawler was created to find the relationships and interconnectedness between them all.
The discussion will address a key question at the heart of the international economic and political landscape: have the benefits of globalization been oversold? Slow global growth and increasing inequality, civil conflict and refugee flows, and the rise of political figures espousing nationalist and protectionist positions pose difficult challenges to global interconnectedness. Panelists will offer fresh perspectives on these emerging issues.
a dog observes the interconnectedness of the universe and also something moving in the grass over there
Let me start with a illustration from one of the most popular philosophers known as Alan Watts;
The smiling young man began proudly telling Watts about his girlfriend and how wonderful she was. Eventually, he pulled out his wallet and opened it to show Watts a photograph of his beloved. The young man smiled proudly and lovingly. "That looks just like her!" he said, pointing to the photo. "Really?" said Watts. "Is she that small?"
The matter of fact is we often see ourselves symbolically than seeing who and what we really are. We do the same thing with the world around us. Think of how many times we have found ourselves in beautiful natural surroundings, looking directly -- in absolute awe -- at something like the Hunza Valley, Biafo Glacier, or Kaghan Valley.
We are part of a whole. When we live in artificial, human-made, climate-controlled environments, we don't learn to tune to the flow of nature. We don't develop the capacity to understand our dependence on and interconnectedness with the natural world. In the absence of direct immersion in the natural world, we lose the awareness of our inherent connection with it.
With just a slight change in perception, just a slight adjustment, we always have the opportunity to see life differently. What is required is learning how to let go of the neurotic, shortsighted, culturally bound notions of who we are and what our lives are about. When we can do that, a vast new universe of possibilities for happiness and fulfillment opens up before us.
Sunrise over Jalkhad Valley in Large
Taken: Sunrise at Jalkhad camping site, Upper Kaghan Valley, Pakistan.
Amsterdam Light Festival.
Janet Echelman’s 230-foot-long aerial sculpture was installed over the Amstel River from atop the Amsterdam Stopera, which houses the City Hall and Muziektheater. The sculpture is a made entirely of soft materials, including Spectra® fiber, a material 15 times stronger than steel by weight, which allows it to attach to existing architecture without extra reinforcement. A unique lighting program integrates an undulation of changing and contrasting colors, reflected on the water below. The sculpture becomes an ethereal form which transforms day to night, and in darkness appears to “float in thin air.”
The form and content of the artwork draws inspiration from the interconnectedness of Earth’s systems. The artist used laboratory data from NASA and NOAA on the effects of the 2010 Chile earthquake, and the resulting 1.26-microsecond shortening of the Earth’s day. The sculpture’s three-dimensional form is inspired by the Echelman’s mapping of tsunami wave heights across an entire ocean.
As the signature project of the 2012–2013 Amsterdam Light Festival, the artwork underscores global interdependence.
“In Amsterdam, the river and canals have been central to city life for the last four centuries,” said Echelman. “The light reflections on the water’s surface become a focus of the sculpture here, creating an opportunity for contemplation. The sculpture invites you to pause and consider how we’re knitted into a larger fabric.”
Rogier van der Heide, curator of the Amsterdam Light Festival, said Echelman’s sculpture “provided more meaning to public spaces, showed the beauty of simplicity, and – probably most importantly – brought people together.”
The installation in the Netherlands was the European premiere of the 1.26 project, which has now been exhibited on three continents. It was originally suspended from the Denver Art Museum to commemorate the inaugural Biennial of the Americas in 2010. In 2011, it travelled to Australia, where it was suspended in front of Sydney’s historic Town Hall.
(Source: Wikipedia)
Taken by: Emiel Dekker (emield.myportfolio.com/)
(please always ask me for permission first if you would like to use any of my photographs)
Cavalia's Odysseo moved me to tears! Sappy, I know.....but there's something about the spirit of horses that reminds us of our nature....the one we've forgotten about, lost in busy lives. That interconnectedness with other living beings. That inter-species ability to communicate through movement and silence. That perfect harmony, and inner balance that forever seems just out of reach for me.