 Elias Sime, Detail, Tightrope: Infatuation, 2015 at The Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, NH The re-imagined Hood Museum of Art re-opened last weekend at Dartmouth College. Among the treasures, I saw this work by Elias Sime. Undulating. Pulsing. In motion. Alive. And yet it's made out of castoff motherboards, toxic contributors to multitudes of e-waste.  Elias Sime, Detail, Tightrope: Infatuation, 2015 at The Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, NH And yet the city he envisions is "a sprawling ecosystem of form and water." It's a huge work, covering a wall. Is it a tile mosaic? Is it marble? No. It's a captivating vision of what's possible when we see beyond what appears toxic and allow beauty to emerge. Bliss.  El Anatsui, Hover, 2003 at The Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, NH And then, on another wall, in the same gallery, this. El Anatsui's "shimmering tapestry" evoking material flowing in a breeze, but no, it's a carefully constructed compilation of bottle tops and copper wire. Garbage comes to life.  El Anatsui, Detail, Hover, 2003 at The Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, NH So when I got home with this week's buckets full of compost from Umpleby's Bakery & Cafe, I was startled when I saw this. Lemons. Lots of lemons. I hadn't planned on taking any photographs, but who could resist the vibrancy?  Compost lemons from Umpleby's Bakery & Cafe, Hanover, NH That's how it is for me. Apparent waste evokes joy. There is possibility. I wonder if that's what Elias Sime or El Anatsui were thinking? Or not. It's just what happens when creativity and climate action converge at the compost pile or anywhere.  What have you seen or experienced this week that evokes joy or invites creativity? Let it happen, when and wherever it may. It's magical and life-giving and for me, makes the world a much more interesting place. Happy January my friends.
0 Comments
Happy New Year! Excerpt from Walt Whitman's Poem "This Compost" I've never embroidered before, but I decided to embroider excerpts from Walt Whitman's poem "This Compost." While he may have written about dead corpses following the American Civil War, I re-imagined his words and considered waste instead, and the power of the earth to renew herself again and again.  Embroidered excerpt from Walt Whitman's Poem "This Compost" by Evelyn R. Swett We have that same power. Every January 1st to begin again. Whitman's is an optimistic poem reflecting our innate American optimism. I celebrate this poem not just because 2019 is the 200th anniversary of Whitman's birth, but also because his message is more important now than ever.  Embroidered excerpt from Walt Whitman's Poem "This Compost" by Evelyn R. Swett My individual stitches might be uneven and the text written on an old pillowcase may be awkward, but seen from afar, the colors are bright, cheerful and make me want to smile. Optimism is all I know. So here we come 2019, on stitch at a time...  Embroidered excerpt from Walt Whitman's Poem "This Compost" by Evelyn R. Swett I launched my online climate 'coaching' class and am petrified. What if no one is interested or needs what I have to offer? But I show up, one week, one stitch at a time and know it is good.  1995 sheepskin fleece washed for the first time in 20 years! I came home from Mexico to find that my anxious dog had peed all over the sheepskin rug I stand on to write these blog posts. Frustrated? You bet. But what's a gal to do? A few squirts of soap, some aggressive massaging of the fleece and some patience while it dried was all that was needed. This is what I tell myself. New Year. New ventures. Patience.  Compost, Hanover, NH By Evelyn R. Swett So here we are. It's 2019. The UN Climate Report says we have twelve years. Our job is to show up, support each other and get the job done. For me, that involves persistence and patience and a whole lot of bravery as I creatively try new things. What about you?  Embroidered excerpt from Walt Whitman's Poem "This Compost" by Evelyn R. Swett "Behold this Compost! behold it well!
...What chemistry!" -Walt Whitman |
Lyn Swett Miller
reframing the narrative, one day, one image at a time 
compost re-imagined
Let's ReFrame: By Degrees
A place where photographer Lyn Swett Miller considers wonder, joy and transformation in a complex world. Archive
September 2021
|