The Same Root
Last weekend I attended De-documenting, an exhibition by artist Beatriz Bellorin at Box 13 — a body of work exploring immigration law and process that stayed with me long after I left. The work is timely in the obvious ways. But it surfaced something I didn’t expect: a connection I’ve been trying to articulate for some time, between how we relate to land and how we relate to one another.
That thread runs through a work-in-progress—my manifesto. What follows is one part of it.
The Same Root
There is a connection between how we treat land and how we treat each other that is not metaphorical. It is psychological. It is moral.
The impulse that produces the sterile lawn — the need for control, for legibility, for the elimination of what does not belong — is the same impulse that produces exclusionary politics, that walls off complexity, that treats diversity as threat rather than abundance.
Someone who has learned to build a living ecosystem understands viscerally that diversity is resilience. That the system is stronger for its complexity, not despite it. That what looks like chaos is intricate interdependence. That the thing you might want to remove is probably doing something essential you have not yet understood.
This is not a metaphor for immigration policy. It is the same cognitive and moral framework — the same quality of perception — applied to human communities.
Learning to tend a living garden does not automatically make someone a more compassionate citizen. But it trains the eye and the mind and perhaps the heart in ways that make compassion more available. It builds the capacity to sit with complexity without resolving it into something simpler and cleaner and less true.
This is an excerpt from my manifesto, Seeing in Systems. Read the full piece here. https://www.cindeeklement.com/new-page-2
Generational Amnesia and Water given the 7/4/2025 floods
I’ve since returned to this subject and said it more precisely. Latest version here:
What the Rain Sounds Like Now. https://www.cindeeklement.com/blog/2026/8/2/what-the-rain-sounds-like-now
Water is composed of a multitude of living organisms, each a microscopic being. Having spent most of my life in the vast desert of West Texas, I've always yearned for a connection with water and the beauty of plant life. Water gardening and underwater videoing have become my pastimes, offering pleasure, creativity, peace, and calm. I spent hours in our pond during covid.
However, I am concerned for our young humans as they navigate an environment increasingly marked by extreme weather patterns. I worry that they will grow to fear water, especially in the wake of violent floods that seem to be happening more frequently. The ripple effects of this loss are huge and deeply concerning.
When reflecting on our relationship with water, it's hard not to see how humanity's approach has been somewhat harsh. I initially wrote violent, but AI suggested I use the word harsh, so I toned it down.
We often treat this vital resource as something to be controlled, redirecting it into linear channels and concrete ditches or trapping it in reservoirs and basins filled with chemical inputs. With hindsight how will future generations describe our treatment of water, our relationship with water? Thinking about it tears me up.
This treatment raises questions for me:
Are these extreme weather events, these overwhelming floods, a response to our attempts to dominate and contain water rather than nurture a natural flow? I believe it is.
Perhaps if we can rebuild our connection with water and all the microorganisms that make it up—by rebuilding landscapes that promote it to move slowly and freely, spread out, and soak into the earth-we might mitigate these violent, I mean, harsh events. Would fostering this gentler relationship with water lead to a more harmonious existence for us and water's living beings?
Lastly, I believe it’s important to recognize the value of our relationship with water, as it plays a crucial role in cooling the planet. In fact, about 90% of the planet's cooling comes from water. By fostering a deeper connection to this essential resource, we can better appreciate its impact and work towards preserving it for future generations and our own.
Re-greening a Dryland Watershed
https://www.usgs.gov/media/videos/re-greening-dryland-watershed
Generational Amnesia and Regeneration.
My husband Curtis and I drove to Christoval, Texas for a public hummingbird tagging event. I had been to a private tagging before, but this one was different. The public was invited in. Children were there.
Biologists carefully capture tiny hummingbirds to collect vital information — sex, age, length, weight. After gathering the data, a skilled volunteer carefully cradles each delicate bird in the palm of an observer’s hand.
The tiny creature briefly pauses. You hold your breath. You feel an almost mechanical vibration, like a toy stuck in the “on” position — the rhythm of its heartbeat. Then, in an instant, it is back into the wild.
It wasn’t until I looked at my photos afterward that I saw it — a trusted volunteer placing the bird in a child’s hand. The transfer of knowledge, right there in the frame. A tiny beating heart. A child holding their breath.
That moment — the exchange of a tiny life from seasoned hands to smooth palms — is a living metaphor for what it means to nurture the passing of knowledge and care across generations. It is the story of regeneration.
This is what generational amnesia looks like in reverse.
Generational amnesia — also called shifting baseline syndrome — describes how each generation views the environment they inherit as the normal standard, even if it is significantly more degraded than that of previous generations. We absorb the world we are born into. We mistake it for the world as it is.
In the 1980s in Houston, our garden was filled with hummingbirds. Their vibrant presence shaped our daily conversations, our sense of place, our sense of wonder. They were part of our love story. Curtis proposed and hummingbirds were there. We miss them.
Today’s children in Houston have likely never seen one in a garden. They have no baseline for what’s missing. And that is the whole loss — not just the hummingbirds, but the memory of them.
Breaking this cycle requires hands willing to reach out and moments prepared to receive. It demands nurturing curiosity, empathy, and attention in children and adults alike. It calls for the deliberate passing on of more than just facts — but also the emotions and experiences that bind us to the world beyond ourselves.
The hummingbird’s pause in the palm of a stranger’s hand is brief. But it is enough. This is how we pass down the endangered knowledge of our natural history now — not around a campfire, not through a grandmother’s photo album, but in a field in Christoval, Texas, with a tiny beating heart in your hand and a trusted volunteer saying: this existed. Pay attention
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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?
Weingarten Art Group - Reseeding
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
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.
IU - What kind of What Labyrinth should I make? What is my site-specific message?
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.
IU - How do you draw a labyrinth?
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.
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.
IU - What Does Ecological Change look like? It looks like Beanblossom Bottom Wildlife Habitat.
To change our environmental path to one of positivity, we need visuals. With that thought, I am excited to share this morning’s experience.
We discover the captivating beauty of Beanblossom Bottom Wildlife Habitat - a living testament to the power of ecological change. Once a family farm for over a century, this remarkable property has been transformed into a thriving wetland sanctuary.
Formerly owned by the Johnson family, since 1898 Robert Anthony Johnson, an esteemed ornithologist and IU professor, dedicated his life to studying bird behavior and publishing research on diverse species worldwide. In 1995, the Johnson family generously donated their beloved farm to the Sycamore Land Trust, marking the beginning of an incredible transformation. Over the years, this once-dry farmland has evolved into a spectacular wetland ecosystem, showcasing various stages of growth and renewal.
If you are interested in regeneration Beanblossom Bottom wildlife is a must. As you explore the grounds, you'll encounter many ecosystems - from old fields returning to young forest, dense forests and lush wetlands to rejuvenating fields and downed tree-filled areas sculpted by tornadoes. These diverse habitats offer a haven for many tree and shrub species, providing ideal nesting grounds for a diversity of creatures. My husband Curtis always looking up identified nine birds : Red-bellied Woodpecker, Pileated Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Blue Jay, Gray Catbird, Green Heron, Tufted Titmouse, American Crow.
I am always looking at the soil, plants and for things living in relationship with the them.
Me in my mosquito protection wardrobe.
Prepare to be immersed in a symphony of nature's harmonious spectacle, where beauty and tranquility intertwine. Embark on a journey through the captivating landscapes of Beanblossom Bottom Wildlife Habitat and witness firsthand the extraordinary power of change.
Below are some images from the morning.
Newly forested area with little lower story plant life and dry ground.
The most important ecological change is due to one species, Nature's Water Engineers the super camera shy Beaver. By building dams, beavers regulate water flow, reducing erosion and preventing flooding. I am hoping my camera snagged an image of one. My cell phone failed.
These industrious creatures also create vital wetland habitats and help replenish aquifers, ensuring the health of our ecosystems.
Their strategic use of wood in the water provides nourishment and shelter for insects, fish and other creatures creating a thriving ecosystem. It was thrilling to see at least two of these eco engineers reminding me of the rol-engineers reminding me of the role beavers play in preserving our natural world.
Northern leopard frog
New forests are easy to identify by the lack age diversity in it's tree trunk population. An old forest will have tree trunks of all sizes multiple species and stages of life.
Sycamore trees are tolerant of pollution and are superstars at turning carbon into oxygen. Why do they shed their bark and why don’t all trees shed? - a topic for another day. If anyone knows please share.
When Inspiration finds you
As a social sculpture artist, I'm passionate about how our civilization interacts with the land. Despite our advances in technology, something just isn't right. I'm always searching for inspiration to inspire nurturing abundance of life in our landscapes. However, our current landscape practices, with overly groomed flowerless shrubs and chemical inputs, are far from desirable. Recently, I stumbled upon a book called "When Violence Is The Answer" lying in the street, dirty, torn, and rain-soaked. Although the word "violence" is harsh, the analogy of violent treatment of humans to our current landscape practices is thought-provoking and valid. The artistic possibilities are limitless on this journey of ecological awareness and expression. Should I incorporate it into a sculpture or read it?
Root To Water
“How fleeting are the wishes and efforts of man! how short his time! and consequently how poor will his products be, compared with those accumulated by Nature during whole geological periods.”
—Charles Darwin, Origin of the Species
Root to Water offers hope. The root, placed with the root system up, takes on anthropomorphic characteristics, as the widespread irrigation wheel’s legs are firmly grounded, the humanized root’s bent over posture and downward-pointing arm are alive with discovery, the root’s hair like tendrils are actively rewiring its human anthropomorphic brain. This rewiring is happening across the globe, in the most desolate of landscapes citizen conservationists are studying natural law and finding solutions to their man-made problems.
In Root to Water, the irrigation wheel symbolizes mechanistic systems. The root in its natural state represents ecological systems. With this duo, I propose that modern civilization has reached an advanced stage of industrialization. In order to progress to the next stage of civilization we must heed Darwin’s observation, and answer the question how do we pair mechanical innovation with the systems that have functioned through “whole geological periods.” I placed the root above the wheel supporting Darwin’s view of natural systems superiority to human innovation.
Repurposing two tools from agronomy, Root to Water shifts how we see mechanical systems versus naturally occurring systems. In this sculpture, a modern innovation—a rusting, decorative, human-made irrigation wheel—serves as a pedestal for an organic found object that often goes unseen: a root system. With this pairing, I exhibit man’s historical struggle to transition to an agricultural-based society utilizing human-made innovations that extract natural resources instead of harnessing existing ecological systems that regenerate resources.
Communities across the planet are experiencing extreme cases of natural disasters. Houston has experienced three 500-year floods in three years. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers completed the Buffalo Bayou and Tributaries Resiliency Study, proposing options for controlling floodwaters costing up to $12 billion. The report does not include conveyance options that are local nature-based cost-effective solutions.
A growing number of conservationists are using natural systems, specifically roots, as a tool for water transportation, carbon sequestration and as a means to cool the planet. Meanwhile, industrial agricultural produces products that are depleting the organic matter, releasing carbon from the soil, and contributing to global warming. As evidence consider, “Each 1 percent increase in soil organic matter helps soil hold 20,000 gallons more water per acre.” In contrast, industrial methods strip the soil (releasing carbon), use petroleum-based inputs to enrich the soil and kill pests. Root to Water elevates roots as a natural system that transports water, minerals and carbon; stabilizes soil; and is instrumental in cooling Earth’s surface—a live-able solution for global warming.
My research-based art looks at the natural history of living soil and how it can be used to restore natural resources that is not commonly understood. I champion natural solutions to environmental issues with a focus on urban landscapes. Root to Water is part of my Endangered Knowledge work, a body of work in progress.
“Though the problems of the world are increasingly complex, the solutions remain embarrassingly simple.”
Further Reading
-Judith D. Schwartz, The Reindeer Chronicles, Water in Plain Site, and Cows Will Save the Planet
-Kiss the Ground, Directed by Joshua and Rebecca Tickell, with Woody Harrelson
-Organic Matter Can Improve Your Soil's Water Holding Capacity
-The Loess Plateau was the, most highly erodible soil on earth”
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