Sequel, 65oo sq. ft living sculpture, Summer Solstice 2024, Image by Jake Eshelman
image by Wolf Mac Lean
image by Jake Eshelman
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Sequel, 65oo sq. ft living sculpture, Summer Solstice 2024, Image by Jake Eshelman
image by Wolf Mac Lean
image by Jake Eshelman
When you understand the natural systems that regenerate our planet, you understand that snow is both an end and a beginning. Tobi, my Labrador, and I could not wait to check on our plant beings in “Deeper than that” this snow-covered morning. Scanning the installation there are bushy snow puddles of Butter daisies and Bluemist flowers with tiny bursts of color saved only for those who care to listen closely.
Layered in the dust of the morning’s snow the blanket flower draws us closest. The fiery blooms not reaching for the sun but in a motherly huddle. I am grateful that I don’t need to spend money, time, or energy on covering native plants that are genetically designed to thrive in extreme temperatures and weather conditions. The exposed plants create a subtle palette of earth tones rarely seen in urban landscapes, showcasing the various stages of life and regeneration that these resilient species represent. When my eyes focus on the details, hidden colors are revealed, and my brain receives a surge of oxytocin. I understand what hope feels like. As l scan down the street I see homes lined not in winters pallets but boxshrubs wrapped like mummies. For a moment I invision those mummies milting into a street lined with nature’s gentle winter lessons. I image things to inspire children to explore and capture their imagination.
In the quiet of the snow, I reflect on its form—a white-covered blanket—and its relationship with a planet that naturally regenerates for future generations. I consider how the plants that freeze back or remain in place become energy sources and habitats, supporting the foundation of the planet’s food network. It warms my heart to think about how this snow-covered landscape protects the soil life that nourishes roots and promotes spring growth.
There are many lessons that humans can learn from a garden that embraces seasons, regenerates life and provides for a diversity of beings. Imagine how different the world would be if every child’s first classroom was a garden, or if all politicians had to maintain a healthy garden without the use of chemical inputs for four years before they could hold office. They would gain insights into networking and learn about symbiotic relationships in real life.
Lifeblood
5.75 “ X 6” X 7”
bronze
Image by Jake Eshelman
Lifeblood, Explores of the profound connection between humans and nature, conveyed through the visual metaphor of a root naturally occurring in the shape akin to the human heart. This piece is part of a larger body of work titled "Subterranean Secrets," which delves into the theme of roots. My work aims to invoke reflection on the unseen yet vital networks that sustain both plants and humans. By casting roots directly in bronze, I emphasize their resilience and permanence, highlighting the enduring significance of these natural systems.
The inspiration for "Lifeblood" arose from my studies on regenerative agriculture, focusing on the indispensable role roots play in countering extreme weather. My exploration into the fascinating world of roots began in 2017, unveiling striking visual similarities between roots and the human heart. These parallels reveal both biological and conceptual truths, as roots and the heart function as lifelines, circulating essential nutrients that sustain life.
Through "Lifeblood," I invite an examination of the often-overlooked relationships between human existence and the natural world. The act of casting these roots in bronze imparts permanence to these otherwise ephemeral forms, challenging perceptions of how we value the natural systems surrounding us. This sculpture contributes to the ongoing dialogue about our environment by emphasizing our dependence on nature and reinforcing the deep interconnection between humanity and the natural world.
In the end, "Lifeblood" serves as a call to acknowledge and appreciate the hidden yet crucial systems that support life. I believe that by understanding and valuing these networks, we can cultivate a deeper awareness of our roles within the broader ecological system, sparking actions to preserve and nurture the natural environment essential to human existence.
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: A Journey Through Nature's Narratives To Redefine The Anthropocene.
Echoes of Existence is a social sculpture site-specific art installation on the campus of Indiana University. It will reside at Hilltop Gardens in a field of manicured turf grass, creating a stark juxtaposition between a cultivated lawn's carbon footprint and a natural carbon sink. A work of conceptual art that the students of Indiana University will install. It is a living labyrinth, sculpted from the tapestry of Southern Indiana's native plants, embodying the region's rich biodiversity and echoing the inherent beauty of natural systems. In a land that once echoed with the thunderous presence of thousands of bison roaming the prairies.
The materials are modeled as b.bison grazing with a bird on its back, a tribute to the bison's eating and waste habits that have supported North America's ecosystems. The entrance, marked by native limestone inscribed with "What might seem like the endpoint..," challenges our perceptions of beginnings and endings, urging us to shift from modern humanity's linear thinking to a cyclical understanding of our relationship with nature.
On the journey through this living labyrinth, one is engaged in a walking meditation guided by the rhythm of the winding path. A labyrinth has a fixed path, a deliberate design that allows your mind to wander freely, unburdened by the fear of being lost in a maze. On this path, one is immersed in nature's diverse colors, textures, smells, sounds, and movements, each element enhancing the experience and making every meditative walk unique.
The path culminates at another limestone marker adorned with rudimentary carvings representing the ecosystem's historical biodiversity that reappear when ruminants are reintroduced to the land. The inscription echoes, "What might seem like the endpoint...may also be the beginning." This mantra provokes contemplation on the cyclical nature of existence, where endpoints can transform into starting points. It encourages us to reconsider our landscape policies and redefine the Anthropocene Epoch as the age in which humanity falls in step with natural systems.
Surrounding this internal limestone marker are four native tree stumps, representing the four stomachs of the ruminant's digestive system. They also serve as seats for reflection to digest how small acts impact extreme climate and biodiversity.
"Echoes of Existence" is a tribute to the enduring spirit of nature and a reminder of our responsibility to care for it. Inspired by wisdom from ancient Greek philosophy, this living labyrinth depicts all life as a complex journey of constant transformation of relationships and the knowledge that what appears to be an endpoint can also be a beginning. It invites participation and engagement in a dialogue with the land embracing life's cyclical relationships. It is not just an invitation to observe but a call to action-to think, to act, to regenerate.
links to other Living Labyrinth blog posts.
Artist in Residency at Indiana University- Living the Dream Installation.
IU- How do you draw a labyrinth?
IU- What kind of Labyrinth should I make? What is my site-specific message?
IU- How do you build a labyrinth from 8’ X10” to 83’ X 54’?
IU- Natural Systems - digestive system.
WHISPERS OF A SHIFTING DIVIDE
4” X 8” X 6”
image by Nash Baker
Whispers of a Shifting Divide is a polished bronze sculpture that imagines the unimaginable. It was inspired by my children's 1997 discovery of a crustacean fossil lying in the desert of West Texas just before we moved east to semitropical Houston, Texas.
The sculpture symbolizes the U.S. 100th meridian, the demarcation between the arid western US and the humid eastern US since the early 1800s. Since 1980, this demarcation between arid and humid has shifted 140 miles eastward from the west side of Austin, Texas to the east side of Austin to the 98th meridian. Another 140 miles — another 40-50 years — and Houston, known for its semitropical humidity will be on the arid side of the boundary.
The polished bronze material nods to Houston's future and industrial character, particularly the polished steel street signs in its minimally landscaped commercial tourist area, Uptown Houston.
By imagining the unimaginable, this work fosters a dialogue that calls for environmental consciousness of the possibilities of our actions.
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.
I am delighted to be included in the spring 2024 exhibition at CityCentre, “Reseeding”, which prompts deep reflection on humanity’s influence on the natural world. The exhibited artwork urges us to envision a utopian future where our impact is positive and mindful choices lead to a harmonious coexistence with nature, inspiring a collective commitment to a sustainable future. The exhibition was thoughtfully curated by Olivia Kimbrell of Weingarten Art Group.
On exhibit until September 2024, the lobbies at CityCentre are open to the public M-F, 8 AM – 6 PM
CityCentre 2 Front – Christian Eckart
CityCentre 2 Back – Cindee Travis Klement
City Centre 3 – Dornith Doherty
CityCentre 4 – Bruna Massadas
CityCentre 5 – Rachel Livedalen
Photography by Nicki Evans
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
In the above image the wrench represents industry and the butterfly the natural world.
For those with philosophical minds, it’s fascinating to explore how language shapes our understanding of the world. The power of words extends beyond mere communication; it molds our perceptions and influences the way we interpret reality.
Consider how our dominant cultural values can impact our vocabulary and ultimately shape how we perceive things. If our society places highest importance on industry and financial gain without regard for environmental consequences, our language will reflect that mindset.
Our perception of the image and the world is shaped by our language. If our main focus is on achieving economic success at any ecological cost, then our vocabulary reflects these thoughts, and these thoughts in turn influence how we value ecology. Take a moment to consider this image of a butterfly and a wrench.
What do you perceive — a wrench supporting a butterfly or a butterfly struggling to withstand the pressure from a wrench?
We can use this knowledge to change society – by analyzing the relationship between language and perception, we can start to question and challenge these dominant narratives. We can choose to broaden our vocabulary, incorporating words that prioritize environmentalism and regeneration.
Imagine if everyone shifted their linguistic focus towards promoting regenerative practices, valuing nature, and taking responsibility for ecological well-being. This change in vocabulary could create a shift in perception – from viewing nature as something to exploit for financial gain to recognizing its inherent value, fragility and it’s power.
So let me ask you again: How do you perceive the image of the butterfly and the wrench? We have an opportunity to reflect on the power of language, challenge conventional thinking, and work towards creating a more regenerative future for ourselves and generations to come.
#ecoart #socialsculpture #wrench #butterfly #language #womanartist #texas #houston #cindeeklementart
“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
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I wrestled with this question. There was not anything in either of Kurt Vonnegut’s books that inspired me. I do feel he wrote about what he knows and my work should be true to my own heart. A list of the obvious came to my mind- butterfly, chrysalis, beatle, seed, flower, IU letters…….
After a full day at the Eskenazie Museum on IU’s campus I was intrigued by this piece.
The museum label read-
According to traditional Bamana beliefs, an energy or force called nyama animates the universe. Objects such as this boli are made to harness that energy and use it for the benefit of the community. The thick, crusty surface is the result of offerings such as millet, other vegetal matter, beer, and chicken or goat blood, all of which are applied to attract nyama and serve as physical evidence of its presence. A boli does not represent a particular creature.
It is kind of perfect., should I make another bison? Can I make a Boli bison labyrinth?
I can see it.
Here are the steps I took
More to come tomorrow.
During the first week of my residency at IU when I wasn’t exploring the city, University, art, museums, ecology, architecture, and landscapes I was experimenting with labyrinth designs.
Some sketches of three different types of kabyrintgs.
This design starts with a simple cross. I need to keep this simple.
Turning the cross/square labyrinth upside down I decided to attempted a seed labyrinth. I think a design less feminine will be better.
Living the Dream as an Artist in Residence at Indiana University!
I couldn't believe my luck when I was offered the opportunity to be an artist in residence at Indiana University. Not only would I have access to all the incredible resources and opportunities of a renowned research university, but it could provide the opportunity to fulfill one of my monumental artistic visions.
As part of my two month residency, I'll be giving artist talks, exploring local artist studios, landscapes of southern Indiana, and creating a special piece to be exhibited at the University or in the beautiful town of Bloomington.
During my interview for the residency, I couldn't help but ask about the size of the campus. And just as I suspected, it is massive. I imagined it with expansive fields of turfgrass. I remember feeling my heart swelling with excitement and hope. Could Indiana University be the site for the monumental installation I dream of?
Let me explain - This summer seeing CARBONsink develop within Symbiosis at Lawndale Art Center and watching the community enjoy entering it made me think. I wondered if the CARBONsink relief was a step to create a larger piece using the same process but with a deeper meaning and making a bigger impact. A little bit of research regarding Greek philosophers and labyrinths and these thoughts turned into a dream. I have a vision of completing a living labyrinth.
I began studying the designs, meanings and histories of mazes and labyrinths. I was lured by labyrinths pretty fast. Mazes are puzzles and meant to confuse you. Labyrinths check all ny boxes.
-A labyrinth is a meditation. —
-There is 1 way in and 1 way out. What seems like the end is also the beginning. It is the perfect metaphor for inspiring ecological - societal perspectives.
-As an artist whose work in the simplest form looks at time and movement a labyrinth is a logical and interesting medium.
-A living labyrinth to convert fields of turfgrass into a living sculpture to regenrrate life.
Typically in an artist in residency one would take some time getting to know the University and the City before propsing their work. I could not contain my excitement so asked if the University would be interested in a site specific living labyrinth? It would be a social sculpture in the form of a relief that demonstrates the steps for turning the largest crop in the US - turf grass into the largest CARBON sink in the US. Ed the Associate Vice Provost for Arts and Humanities responded with great enthusiasm in his voice. Every summer the University and the city of Bloomington celebrate the life and writings of Kurt Vonnegut with the Granfalloon Festival. A living labyrinth would be a fitting art installation in conjunction with the festival.
For inspiration on my drive to Bloomington, I listened to Cat’s Cradle and Slaughter House Five.