Prairie Rhythms: Predators and Pastoral Stewardship

As I prepare for my upcoming living sculpture titled "Sequel," I had the opportunity to explore the prairie ecosystems at Pierce Ranch. The morning started with collecting prairie seeds, which is a vital step in bringing my sculpture to life. To enhance my understanding of these ecosystems and find the most viable seeds, I reached out to a local prairie conservationist who has been instrumental in restoring numerous prairies, notably preserving the Katy Prairie. Collecting seeds is much like eating crawfish, proven to be a catalyst for engaging and enlightening dialogue.


The insights I gained from this exchange confirmed my concerns regarding land preservation. It might surprise and disturb you to learn that the most vibrant and diverse prairies aren't necessarily those that are protected. Rather, they are the prairies that have embraced a more dynamic relationship with the land through careful ranching practices and thrive with life and diversity.

Historically, the natural balance between predators and prey shaped these ecosystems. Predators once hunted freely, guiding the movements of herbivore herds, naturally managing the consumption of vegetation (energy) and the dispersal of organic matter in the form of dung, returning energy back into the soil. However, human intervention led to the decline of these predators, overgrazing, and the desertification of ranchlands. Modern-day ranchers have learned to adapt by using portable fences to mimic these natural movements. This modern adaptation sustains the prairie as a healthy ecosystem, supporting numerous bird species and wildlife.

Through this blog post, I hope to reach an audience unaware of the critical role of ruminants in preserving and revitalizing prairie ecosystems. It's not merely about protecting a static image of nature but understanding and fostering the dynamic relationships that sustain it. The prairies are a testament to the resilience and complexity of life when allowed to interact naturally, even within the framework of sustainable human practices.

It's exhilarating to see how this knowledge aligns with my artistic vision. The conversations I've had and the observations I've made will undoubtedly enrich the narrative and structure of my living sculpture. The prairie seeds are not just components of my work; they symbolize a deeper understanding of ecological balance and the beauty of a thriving ecosystem. They are a source of energy and knowledge, a way to repay the planet.

As I continue this creative process, conversations with friends and experts will remain the cornerstone of my inspiration. In sharing these insights, I hope to foster a broader appreciation for the nuances of prairie conservation and the subtle yet profound ways we can contribute to preserving our natural world.

I leave you with questions that modern society must consider: How can ruminant populations be managed in the absence of predators? What are the consequences of not culling herds? What does the future cycle of life entail?

Echoes of Existence-how to engage the students

I am slowly working to find solutions to the problems that will arise when the students implement the installation.

First, how to get students that are not comfortable with nature to want tobe involved. What will draw them in?

Second, a big problem is how to control a group of college kids in a field and have them complete a detailed installation.

Bloomington is a walking city. Every day as I would walk about town and the campus I worried about how I was going to solve these two problem. And like on most college campuses everyone is in their own audio visual world contained between the ear pieces of a headset. And I was the same. The difference was I still wanted to connect to those passing by me with a “good morning” or hi. I found the IU students were very focused on the sounds in their headsets they did not need to make eye contact or say hello.

In a discussion with an English professor, Shannon Gayk, who also teaches a walking class, I learned that a novel idea for students is silent walking. The idea of walking without a headset without sound — silent.

Thinking of headsets and silent - my mind went straight to silent raves then to a silent installation.

Would the concept of a silent installation draw the students in. Could this commitment to headsets be a possible tool for crowd control during the installation?

I love the idea. But that leads to another hurdle. How do I design a silent installation? What technology makes this possible?

With a quick Google search, I found several companies that provide everything you need for a silent event.

Indiana University artist in residence— conceptualism, the site, archeology and anthropology.

October 11th was the end of the first leg of my residency. The experience truly supports the statement you don’t get what you want but you always get what you need. I did not seek out the residency but I can see how it is helping me take my Social practice to the next level.

It is giving me the opportunity to use; the symbolism of a labyrinth, the regenerative symbol of a bison, the turfgrass of an institute of the US collegic system to change societal habits. These features alone are rare and hard to come by resources.

Exploring the campus and discussing my plans with all who would listen resulted in IU providing me with the opportunity to add a few more layers to the work. Specifically conceptualism, archeology and anthropology.

Conceptualism- The Eskenazie Museum on IU’s campus has one of the three complete collections of Marcell Duchamps readymades. Seeing these pieces of Duchamp the father of conceptualism from the 60!s and 70’s gave me the idea that my work at Indiana would be more impactful if it is conceptual.

As I began to plan the labyrinth design and installation I began to see how beautifully Conceptualism works with Social sculpture. If I create the concept and the design the steps to install it and the students implement my concept and design it becomes theirs. It won’t be my art they assist me with it will be their actions taking meaningful steps.

The last Monday at IU in a meeting discussing the actual installation process with one of the professors and directors of the Hilltop Gardens it was suggested I work with the anthropology department and Archeology departments when I return. Archeologists will be enlightening when it comes to installing the grid. The Anthropology department can help facilitate a possible relationship and sharing of culture between the students of the First Nations and the students who do not have a deep connection to the land. I would like the installation to be a catalyst for the two groups to develop a unified way forward, a new tradition or ceremony that will give them all together a personal connection to the landscape and the biodiversity it will support.

The next step is to get the University wheels to approve a site. To be the most successful the site needs to be a sea of turfgrass, have full sun, be spacious enough to accommodate the 85’ X 54’ bison, and accessible to the students and community.

I am thrilled to announce that in late January 2024, IU selected a sloped plot of The Hilltop Gardens for the installation.

Related blog posts

A labyrinth of what shape? http://www.cindeeklement.com/blog/2023/10/2/what-kind-of-labyrinth-a-seed-a-beautiful-design-a-bison-that-is-the-question

The design

http://www.cindeeklement.com/blog/2023/10/8/the-labyrinth-design-how-will-it-be-installation

From 8” X 10” to 53’ X 85’

http://www.cindeeklement.com/blog/2023/10/7/how-do-you-build-a-labyrinth

Heat Dome

“What I propose, therefore, is very simple: it is nothing more than to think what we are doing.”

-Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition

Heat Dome

Watercolor monotype

30" X44"

Bare ground, concrete, asphalt, and astroturf emit 4X radiant heat. Great masses of radiant heat create heat domes. Heat domes prohibit weather from moving across the land. In contrast, surfaces covered in thick layers of plants indigenous to the region store water in the soil. When the day warms, the plants transpire, releasing bacteria with the moisture to form clouds that provide shade and then rain. We each need to carry our ecological weight. We can start by considering new ways to surface our city scapes to cool the planet.

Heat Dome ghost

Moving Forward

Moving Forward

67” X 15” X 18”

Image by Jake Eshelman

Found object concrete and rebar curbing fragment, rusted steel, bronze, and gold leaf.

Moving Forward consists of two rectangular concrete curb fragments and two cast bronze roots, the latter with gold-leaf patinas. These objects are tethered like irregular beads strung on a wire of rusty rebar falling to the earth.

The fractured concrete and the more extensive root land at the forefront in a forward strutting anthropomorphic structure. Growing behind the long-necked bird-like form, a stem of rebar twice the creature's height reaches for sunlight. The meandering stem is counterbalanced with the smaller root in a lyrical passed sunflower shape.

The weighted composition invites viewers to reimagine the relationship between our engineered landscapes and ecological systems to support wildlife and forge a path toward a regenerative future.

Interdependence

Interdependence

60” X 10.25” X 10.25”

Image by Jake Eshelman

Texas Bricks, Paint, Plastic Dome and Base, Vintage Globe Bank, Prop $100 bills, Coins from a diversity of economies, Paper Wasp’s nest on Maple tree leaves, Seashell with barnacles, Red swamp crayfish, bird nest, feather of a Pileated Woodpecker, Blue jay feathers, Mantis, Cicada, Great Purple Hairstreak, Tropical Checkered Skipper, White Peacock, Red-spotted Admiral, Monarch, Red lacewing butterfly, June Beetle, Eastern Carpenter bee, Wolf Spider, Beebalm, Sacred Datura, Bundleflower and various dried leaves.

Artist Statement

Interdependence is built from a collection of TEXAS-stamped bricks washed with a white patina. In a staggered stacked square skyscraper form, the bricks shoulder a transparent dome and base, crowned with a vintage Globe Bank finial.

Within the transparent dome is a still-life collection of intricately connected elements from natural and human-made systems. They wreath a "Houston" stamped brick fragment.

By using everyday materials that we typically associate with urban environments, the work conveys that the collective actions of Houstonians, living in a dense population center with a sprawling footprint and long growing seasons, have far-reaching implications for global economies. It is a reminder that our choices impact not just our immediate landscapes but global eco-systems as a whole.

This sculpture is not a warning. It presents a solution. I employ systems thinking to suggest that embracing economic systems is necessary to recover biodiversity. Economic systems dominate our culture and intimately impact natural systems. Houston's ecology and commerce can potentially create a new economy - an ecotourism industry. Houstonians can transform the negative impact of industrialization, commerce, and urbanization into a source of beauty, wonder, and economic growth by advocating for our natural habitats.

Interdependence invites us to rethink our individual relationship with the planet’s biodiversity, recognize the value of our natural heritage, and embrace the idea that supporting wildlife is a global responsibility dependent on a collection of individual acts. 

A Turn of Events: My Dream Installation on hold.

This summer, I was presented with an incredible opportunity. A curator asked me to propose my dream installation, a chance to showcase something meaningful. The site owner was willing to support and fund the work.

After much contemplation, I decided on a proposal that filled me with passion and urgency. However, last week, it all came to a halt.

I am sincerely grateful for the curator’s interest in my work and the site owner’s support. Their initial inquiry inspired this proposal, and I cannot thank them enough for that. I believe that everything happens for a reason, I have an idea and I am hopeful that I will find the project a site and funding.

First a little background. While at Indiana University, I became aware that integrating ecological recovery with natural systems is a new academic direction and numerous educational institutions are interested in this area. After all, universities and school systems are the largest landowners in any city and having research students involved would be a great asset. Transforming the proposed installation into an art/environmental science installation would significantly enhance the social sculpture’s reach and benefit a university and society.

Below is my proposal.

Introduction-

Global warming, food security, drought/flooding, wildlife habitats, economic instability, and health – these problems are not new to humankind. The archeology of ancient civilizations has recorded connections between the longevity of civilizations and the health of their soil. The United Nations reported in 2014 that the world's topsoil would only last 60 more growing seasons. Soil scientists around the globe agree that solutions to these issues are rooted in our treatment of soil—the skin that covers our planet. 

In a moment of global uncertainty, I ask myself, what materials and forms would I use to create the greatest impact on society and the environment? As I think of ancient civilizations' architecture, art, and spiritual practices, pillars and vessels played an important role in shaping their understanding of the world. Much of my previous work has been about conservation issues, looking specifically at Earth’s natural systems of bees, at waterways, at bison, at native plants, at recovery from Hurricane Harvey, and now at the underground systems of Earth. And so, I would use roots as my material and pillars as my vessel.

standingGROUND

In standingGROUND, I propose a four-stage installation of 5’-10’ tall pillars of various shapes grown from the roots of long-rooted prairie plants.

These pillars will be created by stacking various shapes of clay vessels commonly purchased from home and garden stores. The vessels with the bottoms removed will be stacked and centered on a steel pole cemented in the earth with a small footing for stability. The pots will be filled with a leaf-mold compost and seeded with native grasses and plants known for their root depth. They are to be nurtured and watered for approximately twelve months or until the plants are rootbound in the clay pillars. The clay will then be delicately broken away and the above-ground plant material removed, leaving freestanding pillars of delicately intertwined roots bound in the shapes of the stacked vessels. The root pillars will stand erect on the hidden steel posts.

Drawing inspiration from the rhizomatic root structures of native grasses that give structure to Earht’s underground life, these sculptures, woven by natural systems, standing above ground, will bridge the gap between sky, earth, water, and modern humanity. These pillars offer a glimpse into the intricate workings of an underground prairie ecosystem, the upside-down rainforest for carbon sequestration of North America.

Four Stages

The first phase of standingGROUND will focus on the sculptural aesthetics of the work. I will carefully build the pillars composed of ready-mades to be strong sculptural elements on their own. Once a site is selected, I will choose a paint color that harmonizes with the surroundings and emphasizes the sculptural qualities of the pillars. Lighting will play a crucial role in showcasing the sculptures in relation to their environment. I will paint the pots before the installation, touch them up, and paint the joints afterward. Information on the site will discuss the ecological and social aspects not yet revealed.

The second phase will be to install the pillars into an immersive experience. The towering yet human-like pillars will be positioned strategically to create an intimate and inviting space for viewers. Within this space, a stone or stump will be placed as a reflective seat, provoking thoughts on how our actions impact climate and biodiversity and how humanity can find harmony within natural systems.

The third phase of standingGROUND is when I physically chisel the ceramic vessels away to reveal the social sculpture aspect, the delicate white lace-like intertwined roots bound in the shapes of the stacked ready-mades bridging the gap between sky, earth, water, and humanity.

The fourth phase encapsulates the cycle of life, decay, and regeneration. This crucial phase is essential for ensuring life on Earth. The root sculptures will gradually erode and disintegrate when exposed to the elements. Once the installation has reached the end of its visual lifespan, I will carefully remove the root sculptures. The poles and footings will be relocated from the site. This stripping away of the remnants will leave behind a cavity in the ground previously occupied by the footings. Remarkably, this void will serve as a space where the roots can be placed to rest-regenerate and give birth to new life.

I started experimenting with the shapes in their root form last week. I initially created six sketches in the form of watercolor monotypes. Then, I researched more pot shapes with larger mouths and created four more in round 2. The images of these sketches are below. I will continue experimenting with these shapes as I work on a site.

standingGROUND II

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

StandingGROUND VI

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

standingGROUND round 2 #1

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

standingGROUND IV

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

StandingGROUND round 2 #4

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

StandingGROUND round 2 #3

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

StandingGROUND round 2 #2

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

standingGROUND V

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

standingGROUND III

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

standingGROUND I

Watercolor monotype

30” X22”

Hats and Storytelling.

Indulging in a morning of thoughtful stitching and reflection. Since my youthful days in the 70s shaping hats at my father's feed and Western Wear store, hats have held a profound meaning for me. They possess a unique ability to tell stories.

Recently, I acquired an extraordinary green hat from the talented artisan Edgar Alvarez at Gran Central Hats. Their craftsmanship captures the essence of customization, allowing ribbons, feathers, and all manner of embellishments to adorn your own hat. I made the decision to handle my own stitching, and I must admit, piercing through the resilient felt material is no easy task.

As I sit here, needle in hand, I find myself musing about the idea of incorporating elements inspired by the prairie grasses and the thriving ecosystem that thrives through the consumption and waste patterns of bison. It's a fascinating, how their actions actually contribute to the renewal of life. For instance, birds benefit from the ecosystem by consuming pests that break down bison dung. These birds utilize bison fur to construct their nests, as the fur provides antiviral properties, fortifying their eggshells. Furthermore, the grasses that flourish due to the bison's eating and waste habits offer nesting materials and shelter from predators.

I am hopeful that when finished this hat will be something more than a mere fashion accessory; it possesses the potential to be a powerful catalyst for conversations, stimulating discussions about our individual roles in the process of regeneration.

To Leave

The ephemeral beauty of nature lies not just in living organisms but also in their inevitable decay.

This morning, while examining “deeper than that” a private living sculpture art installation featuring indigenous plants, I was struck by the fading loveliness of the Rosinweed leaves as they withered. Contemplating the homophones “leaf”, “leave” and “leaves”, I pondered how societies historically understood the ecological value of allowing foliage to persist even after senescence. Is that why we call these objects a verb?

Leaves that have left a plant continue to nourish the soil and its microbial inhabitants even in death. Their decaying forms hold moisture, shade the living organisms in the ground, and provide nutrients as they return to earth, building a balanced ecology that sustains urban landscapes. They are an important material natures uses in its engineering of the water table.

Though a single leaf may seem a small, ephemeral thing, in aggregate and over time, the leaves left behind establish and uphold the very foundations of life.

Their decay is not an end but rather a beginning - a quiet, essential recycling of energy and matter that allows new growth to emerge.

In both the noun and the verb there are layers of beauty, and layers of ecological purpose, in the leaves left to molder where they fall. An ecosystem thrives on this gift of decay, using the ephemeral to fuel the eternal. Such is the profound, poignant cycle that the installation’s Rosinweed specimens, even as they bend and brown, help perpetuate. Out of seeming loss, abundance; out of death, life.

Leave your leaves and be grateful for their beauty as nouns and as verbs.

Living Llabyrinth- Building the grid

Building a Large Grid for Installing a Labyrinth: My Process. One reason I write these blog posts is to record my process. The other is to share information.

Constructing a labyrinth grid of this magnitude may seem like a daunting task. And it is for me. With the right strategy, it can be accomplished efficiently. As I embarked on this venture, I took the time to experiment and optimize my methods. Here's a breakdown of the process that was the most efficient.

To begin, gather the necessary materials: X-axis cords measuring 53 at 54' and Y-axis cords measuring 33 at 88' lengths. Keep in mind that the cords come in 100-foot lengths.

I wish I had of planned at 50’ by 100’ bison. The lighter is for singing the ends so they will not ravel. The tape is for tapeing the measured and twist-tied ropes for the installation.

I am making each cord that is a multiple of 5 a white cord. I think this will helpful the day of the installation.

1. X-axis cords: Start by unwinding the hundred-foot cord carefully, ensuring it doesn't become tangled. Here's a handy tip: tie a knot at one end and secure a twist tie next to it. Place the knotted end in a doorway and shut the door on it. This will hold it in place. Then, stick your arm through the middle of the looped cord and slowly unwind it, walking away from the door until it's completely straight.

2. Measure and cut the cord, leaving a few inches to knot and singe the ends to prevent unraveling. Tie another twist tie at the 54' mark. This will serve as the reference cord for measuring all other X-axis cords. Keep this cord secured in the door.

3. Take the leftover cord singe the end and knot it and tightly tie a twist tie inside the knot. Shut in the door with the reference length cord. Measure it against the reference cord and splice it with a piece of the next 100' wound-up cord to measure the 54' length accurately. Now you have a cord to start marking the grid on.

To mark the grid on the first cord—

The dining has been my studio work space. First I covered the 8’ table in a thick paper to protect it. Next I marked every 20” from end to end.

4. Prepare a long table by placing sheets of paper and securing them to the table so they will not slip. Measure and mark on the paper every 20". Lay the cord on the marked paper. To ensure stability, anchor the cord with a heavy object like a case of water.

I used a case of water to weigh down the cords.

Starting from the first knot, and twist tie secure each twist tie tightly along the edge of the table at the 20' marks. Continue tying twist ties until you reach the end of the 54' mark. You may have a little excess cord hanging after the last tie.

The 8’ mark of the table length and the last twist tie. I leave a few inches at the end just in case.

The first piece with every 20” tightly tied with a twisties.

5. Carefully wind up the cord, tape it securely, and mark it as X-axis 54'.

The first grouping of five- 4 red and the 5th white.

53 pieces - completed.

6. Finally, organize the cords by making four red and one white, keeping them grouped together.

IU - The labyrinth design - How will it be installed?

Once the grid is installed, the next step is to think about how to divide the work so that groups of student and volunteers can install my vision. .

Two options seem viable. The first idea is by marking the (X, Y) coordinates for each circuit of planting on individual pages. The other idea is by verticle rows.

Below I have marked the coordinates of the circuits. As I mark the coordinates I am not sure this is the way. I may need to break it down to smaller sections.

I can continue to consider how to breakdown the jobs as I begin building the grid.

The National Wildlife Federation - feature

Partnering with communities, schools, governments, and organizations across the country, the National Wildlife Federation is leading the charge for conservation.

Through their tireless commitment to protecting and restoring habitats, they have managed to breathe new life into endangered species like eagles, deer, elk, bighorn sheep, and whales.

I am deeply proud to have my work featured in the prestigious fall edition of the National Wildlife Federation magazine. It is a true honor to be recognized alongside such incredible conservation efforts.

TOAST - 1.5 Degrees - planet toast

I am still at IU busy working out the details of an installation. I start each morning reading/researching as I enjoy my coffee. I found this article alarming and inspiring. Climate Change Is Speeding Toward Catastrophe. The NextDecade Is Crucial, U.N. Panel Says.

Working out an idea for a future work.

1.5 - sketch for TOAST

Myy work is about the ecological solutions in urban landscapes. What solutions can I unearth in food, toast, char? - time to ponder and ruminate. Stay tuned.

The Baby Whisperer

“The Baby Whisperer” 30” X 44” watercolor monotype Horses are truly a marvel of sensitivity and emotion. My daughter-in-law recently visited a stable where she used to ride, and while my son shoveled manure for their garden, she had a beautiful moment with one of the mares. Even though she had never ridden that particular horse, it became clear that the horse had been affected by its owner’s recent pregnancy. This experience reminded me that wildlife deserves much more credit than we often give them.

This observation also underlines how crucial it is to build connections with all creatures in order to restore and maintain a healthy ecosystem. I want to express my gratitude to Griffin and Alex for providing a stunning photo that inspired me to reflect on these profound ideas. They continue to motivate me each and every day.

A few weeks later I created two more pieces. One for my daughter-in-law's parents and one for my son.

Baby Whisperer I

Watercolor monotype 30” X44”

Baby Whisperer I ghost print

Watercolor monotype 30” X44”

Baby Whisperer II

Watercolor monotype 30” X44”

Baby Whisperer II ghost print

Watercolor monotype 30” X44”

When plants collaborate-

”Problems cannot be solved with the same mindset that created them” - Albert Einstein

To change my mindset I have to change how I see. For years I have seen through a mechanistic mindset. Observing the growth of Symbiosis these past years has given me a new perspective. When I step back and consider what else might be happening, what can I see if I consider natural systems as opposed to purely industrial systems? A whole new world of thought and possibilities unfolds.

I see that nature is a master collaborator, as proven by the Rudbeckia hirta and Passiflora incarnate duo.

Planted close together, the vine quickly sought support from the stout-stemmed Susan, needy for sun, but lacking the strength to reach it alone. The black eyed Susan, not threatened, seems to welcomed the addition, together they twined and grew - now standing not two but four feet tall. Conventional thought sees the vine as overcoming the flower, but in reality, they are just two plants working together, building a structure that is maximizing photosynthesis and basking in the sun while providing protective habitat small life dwelling in the area.

A lesson for us all - Collaboration can truly conquer all. The fiery skipper seems to agree.

Rumblings - Agapostemon virescens

Agapostemon virescens lead a very unique lifestyle - living in underground communal nests, with up to 30 individual females sharing the same space. These tricolored metallic bees have an intricate defense system which consists of assigning roles; while some female bees explore and gather food, at least one always stays behind as gatekeeper! Interestingly enough, this species cleverly protects their nest from predators by making sure that they always has someone on guard duty.

During late-July to early-August, a second generation of A. virescens emerges that is both male and female. With no place in their natal nests for the males to go, they seek shelter elsewhere - hosting bee slumber parties where huddles are formed! The females take advantage of this time by sipping on flowers like New England aster, goldenrods and sneezeweed so as to survive winter without having any need build nests or lay eggs during fall season. Sadly though when temperatures drop these mated females enter hibernation while males die selflessly protecting them until spring arrives again next year.

Symbiosis - the research for documenting the work.

In 2020, I was asked by Lawndale to propose a sculpture for the sculpture garden. Instead of proposing one of my steel or bronze sculptures, I proposed a living sculpture titled Symbiosis. I have since endeavored to witness and record/document its growth and relationships through photography. These photographs will be my reference materials for more poetic documentation. Simultaneously I have sought out historical and contemporary ways of immortalizing natural history. My search led me to explore websites, antique stores, and estate sales, looking for how naturalists, explorers, and artists have documented Earth’s wildlife and plant life’s relationships throughout history. This research has led to the discovery of two exquisite artistic collections from 1705 and 1903 that sparked inspiration within: Maria Sibylla Merian's book Metamorphosis Insectorum (1705) as well as Theodore Jasper’s American Ornithologists' Union (1903). Both are incredibly valuable works that promise to help me find my wings and bring Symbiosis memories into full bloom.

For the next seven months, I will diligently document through photography the unique relationships as they develop in Symbiosis. When 2023 draws to a close, my contract with Lawndale runs out. Then, I will start the final chapter of the work. This project has become something special that needs to be immortalized in artworks showing their symbiotic relationships. With watercolor monotypes as my medium of choice and abstract expressionism becoming part of me along the process - these works are primed to tell stories of how humanity can reconnect with natural systems in urban landscapes.

Theodore Jasper’s American Ornithologists' Union (1903)

Theodore Jasper’s American Ornithologists' Union (1903)

Maria Sibylla Merian's book Metamorphosis Insectorum (1705)

Call of The Crane

“When we hear his call we hear no mere bird. We hear the trumpet in the orchestra of evolution. He is the symbol of our untamable past, of that incredible sweep of millennia which underlies and conditions the daily affairs of birds and men.”

– Aldo Leopold on the call of the sandhill crane

During my Christmas day stroll with family and Tobi, I came across a crumbling old stump harboring an exquisite feathered creature. The majestic bird looked to be either a Whooping Crane or Sandhill crane - the two largest birds of North America.

While North America has many struggling ecosystems, it's so important that we remember the stories of hope and recovery too. The Sandhill crane is one such story - once endangered, their numbers have rebounded thanks to determined humans working to save them. Getting to know these creatures better can only inspire more hope for future environmental recoveries. I'm looking forward to learning more about the whooping cranes on my trip south this February with Curtis. If you know any other inspiring stories of environmental recovery please share them with me?

As found on Christmas day with it's natural patina.

In my garage studio after giving the bark a little wash to highlight the movement in the wood.

Detail

Symbiosis: Why I am not anti-freeze


Humans naturally mourn the economic and surface loss of colorful flowers and green plants from a freeze. It is easy to become wrapped up in the superficial aspects. With systems thinking central to my eco-art practice, I wonder if there is an ecological purpose for a freeze. It has been a month since the freeze giving me time to watch and wonder. I have looked beyond the skin-deep perspective and discovered something beautiful about how a freeze gives life.

A week after the freeze, the same space is transformed into the earth tones of a 1980’s residential den.

This freeze occurred at the end of the second year since the Symbiosis installation. It was my first freeze with native plants and opened a floodgate of realizations and thoughts about freezes.

A freeze in the tropics looks and acts differently than in the northern US, but how are freezes in the tropics different than those in the Northern states? How does slimy organic matter from a freeze in the tropics impact its soil complexity? A freeze in a coastal prairie garden that has shade from a two-story building is not like a freeze in a sunny open field. Is there a relationship between the freeze and the drought, is there a relationship between seasons? For the past month, these are the questions I have taken with me when I visit Symbiosis and research on line.

What initially appears to be a destructive event can be the seed necessary for regrowth. Prairie plants are particularly delicate in these intense freezes as frozen water expands and rips apart cell walls, destroying their armature. When the thaw period eventually comes, and the water drains away, all that remains is a slimy puddle of cell slime.

A small corner of Symbiosis before the December 2022 freeze.

These slimy puddles and decaying plants quickly milt into the soil, building its complexity and enabling it to store carbon, cooling the planet and soaking up water. When it breaks down, it provides food for microorganisms in the soil. A freeze is a quick and intense way to quickly build a large amount of living soil in the subtropics. This is a refreshing reminder of how our actions have real-world impacts. I am leaving the dead organic material to break down naturally. I am mindful of the inherent beauty of all seasons, all colors of ground cover, and the event's natural power and energy potential. Understanding and honoring freezes can improve Earth’s health for future generations. It is the fastest, most economical way to build a large quantity of soil. When it comes to soil carbon as an asset, a freeze is an economic plus.

I am not anti-freeze - instead, I'm pro-freeze!

Almost two weeks after the freeze and the new growth is noticeable. . The dried plants are crumbling into soil.

I still have unanswered questions and I am hopeful they will reveal themselves through Symbiosis. Until them I walk the garden every day in complete amazement the new growth rise through the decaying material as it melts in the armature of the soil.