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. 

The American Beaver - research

In her book Beaver Land, How One Weird Rodent Made America, Leila Philip spends a chapter on Lewis H. Morgan's (America’s first Anthropologist) documentation of The American Beaver written in 1868. Lucky me, I have found a copy. I am wondering how this read may impact my work.

During a captivating walking tour of Buffalo Bayou in the early 2000s, led by an esteemed Master Naturalist, my fascination with beavers was sparked. It all started when we stumbled upon a tree stump adorned with telltale markings of these industrious creatures. Surprisingly, our knowledgeable guide harbored a deep dislike for beavers, prompting me to question their significance within the ecosystem. Alas, our Master Naturalist was left speechless, unable to provide an answer. As an artist documenting my practice, this encounter left me pondering the enigmatic role of the beaver, and the profound impact it holds within our natural world.

Just as bison’s behaviors shape our land ecosystems, beavers are the architects of thriving water and marsh ecosystems. Considering that water is the key to cooling our planet. To truly comprehend nature’s cooling mechanisms, I recognized the need to understand the Beaver and how their work may connect with the bisons and how humans can mimic these systems in urban landscapes.

As someone devoted to capturing the wonders of natural history and integrating them into our human-made structures, I’ve been amassing a collection of historical writings on natural history. I am looking forward to learning from this new addition to my collection.

In Morgan’s book, he delves beyond the surface-level characteristics that most naturalists focus on, offering a profound perspective.

Leila Philip‘s book is a thorough overview and introduction to a contemporary view of the Beaver. I will probably rerread Philip’s book overtime.

I want to know about the Beaver before the Railroad and what beavers think and how they work, what inspires these creatures to do what they do. Morgan’s book is that and more.

IU - How do you build a labyrinth? From 8”X 10” to 83’ × 54’

How to go from an 8” X 10” paper to a field, Is the question ruminating in the back of my mind every day.

Unfortunately Bloomington is in between art supply stores. As a result I could not buy locally any paper larger than 8” X 10” . While I waited for an order to come in I pieced together 8 - 8” X 10” pages and scaled it up 2X.

When I scaled it up 2X I started seeing that I could take it to any size I wanted by using (X, Y) coordinates. I am using a 20” scale.

8- 8” X 10” paper to a make a 18” X 30” sketch.

How I could get a 83' × 54’ rectangular grid with right angles on a field was a big concern.

An idea came to me when I toured the charming Wylie House, a fascinating piece of history nestled just off campus. This historic gem, built in 1835, was once the cherished home of Andrew Wylie, the inaugural president of Indiana University.

The Wylie House master bedroom.

During my visit, the knowledgeable docent unveiled a captivating detail - the simple rope framework that upheld the mattress.

The antique bed’s rope framework that supports the mattress. What looks like a cup is the chamber pot.

A rope grid might be the answer to getting a proper rectangle With right-angled corners and grid onto a field.

This visual solidified my strategy for bringing the labyrinth design from paper to reality in an open field. The framework I need is 83’ × 54’ the vertical and horizontal ropes that cross every 20”. We can twist tie the coordinates together making the rectangle form.

What cave paintings from 25,000 years ago can teach us about regeneration.

This morning I read Mysterious marks on Ice Age cave art may have been a form of record keeping in science News.

The marks left in a cave 25,000 years ago illustrate the wisdom of early hunter-gatherers. Even then, these people were knowledgeable about their environment and respectful of nature's cycles; understanding that taking too much from one place could lead to decline. Nowadays, we can look back at this example as an invitation for modern civilization to take up sustainable living practices—regenerating our resources instead of simply consuming them without thought or consequence.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the question, how do we mimic regeneration in our cities? We have to ask, What can we learn from Earth’s earliest environmentalists? A lot.