 Weekly Compost Bucket During my show, people asked if my studio smelled and they wondered how I 'staged' my work.  Handmade Three-Bin Composter (Bin & Photograph by ERSwett) Since my 'stage' is a large three bin composting system behind our garage, and my studio is on the opposite end of the house, in the basement, with only a computer and other art supplies, it turns out that neither one actually smells at all (or at least, not of rotting food).
And I don't really 'set up' my Compost Compositions either. I dump food and other scraps into that plastic white bucket that I purchased from K-mart a decade ago. When it gets full, which is at least once a week, I carry the 10 pounds of waste out to our 'active' compost bin. There, I dump a bucket's worth of stuff onto whatever was there before.  A 'Compost Compositions' in process. Then I stir it so that it all gets mixed and mingled. As you can see, the bins are square, but the camera creates a rectangular image.  Compost Composition #6,573 or some such number... by ERSwett I then crop my image to create 'Compost Compositions' that feel as close to the 'real deal' as I can get.  5 Gallon Buckets full of Compost. There are additional players in this drama, however. I source most of my raw material from Umpleby's Cafe & Bakery in Hanover, NH, where each week I collect five gallon buckets full of coffee and other food scraps.  Handmade Three-Bin Composter and photo by ERSwett The stage is set for new dramas to unfold. Every time it's a mystery, as the contents and light shift with each season.  This morning's compost from Umpleby's Cafe & Bakery This morning, the buckets contained a wonderful mix of coffee, fresh lemons, celery and some old lettuce.  Coffee steaming... I love how the fresh and still warm coffee grinds, generate steam. I also love how I don't actually know what was in each bucket until I stir the heaped mass of coffee and vegetable scraps...  Mixed salad, sandwiches and omelettes perhaps? ...and uncover a compellingly speckled moldy tomato.  It's all very democratic - - everything gets mixed and mingled together. There is no hierarchy in a compost bin. I doubt any of these will become official 'Compost Compositions' as the lighting wasn't quite right today. Stay tuned for more about that in a later post.  Love contrasts between lights and darks As you
can see, this 'behind the scenes' view of my compost process is not really behind anything other than our garage. It's all out there. In the winter, red squirrels come to feast; In the summer bees and other bugs hover. For years I've referred to my work as the 'real deal.' It may be contained & framed but, like me, what you see is what you get.. (most of the time).
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 It seems absurd, really, that a gal has to take care of things at home even when there are so many cool things happening, at, say, her first solo show.  But autumn does come to an end, and snow does appear and the temperatures do start to fall, so one does have to take care of things.  It's funny, though, how the list evolves over time. Just as one thing is finally crossed off, another activity or two or three gets added on, like mulch on the garden and those perennials that keep coming back...  I love, though, how I save my favorite activity for last - - shredding leaves to use in the compost in the spring when things are wet and need a boost of dry carbon. It's a thing for me.  Calvin joins in the fun, begging me to throw him sticks while I methodically mow the leaves in the still, dry garage. Spread them out, consolidate, spread again. Back and forth I help break them down so they can more efficiently integrate with all that nitrogen in the melting, early spring compost.  It hit me, though, as the pile got smaller, that this is another one of those routines I do all the time that is, on the one hand, just another item on the endless list, but on the other hand, is an integral part of a bigger climate action narrative, a story in which I find joy in routines that feel good unto themselves but are also part of a larger creative vision.  Like how I can share photographs of a previous year's leaves on the wall of a gallery and by doing so inspire others to think differently about leaves, carbon and our material world.  Mixed Carbon, 2019 30" x 30" Photograph on Paper (5th on the left) Photo by ERSwett For me,
climate action and creativity converge to inspire joy and new ways of being - - all the time. |
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
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