Walking Place

Had the opportunity to go on a site visit to a Farm in Dry Ridge Kentucky today.

 

The woman we are working with said something I'd like to never forget, in regards to accessibility.

 

 

"To be able to walk with dignity, to walk with confidence"

 

 

context: speaking of her mother's ability to walk and move through the woman's upcoming wedding.




Last year I looked at the sky

And the clouds reminded me of when I looked at the sky

in a place where I also used to collect these stones

 

I think this one a lot of people might throw back in the water

But I liked that it was half dark and half light

 

It's good to reflect on memories

and maybe to think about journeys we might perceive in the sky

 

I still like to put small peices of collected earth back in their place


There's a part of me that feels like if you haven't grappeled with a drawing, especially a drawing engaging the change of a place, you haven't really started. That makes me smile a little bit, I think places can be mischevious sometimes.


This is a peice of writing inspired by Bettina Pittaluga's photograph Roxane & Baptiste.

Accessible here.

 

 Its nice to remember the things we do that make us comfortably silent.

I think this photograph is beautiful.

 


reflecting-pond

 

Revised 12.21.2022

 

The reflecting pond sat still and motionless as it stared deeply into the eyes of an elusive grey sky, a peaceful strength and serenity enforced by an unforgiving mirror. The impenetrable body reflected the thoughts of all who gazed upon its stillness, but still a presence which largely goes unnoticed. Very few register the depth and even fewer ponder its existence, but all who pass are reflected in its observant eye. Below the veneer lies a collection of observations. The depth of knowledge beneath the surface are known to no one, except maybe the few golden fish daring enough to poke their heads above the surface, relieved by the cold air returning deep within the protection of the pond. Swimming in the memories, compilations and syntheses of data and thought, gathered, stockpiled and stored forever, might be forever, sealed behind a sheen of forgotten insights.

 

As the clouded grey sky darkened and wisps of light slipped away, the pond turned to black opal, a deep and moving viscous. As the night aged on it revealed smears of red and blue haze studded by tiny white gems. The clusters of light shone against the shining glow that penetrated the dark night sky. The night never lost its breathtaking aura even as the pond unquestioningly echoed the scene in its surface, encoding and filing every placement, movement and direction down to the nearest atom, and further still.

 

The pond, gifted with an ingrained strain of concentration, never forgot a thing. It measured as time moved on, tracing evolutions, interruptions, and shifts in thought, wisdom, connection, and its ticking opposite. Trends and movements might only be marks of incongruence between human record and the score kept. Quietly the subtle ripples considered these afterthoughts of drawn periods of time, characterised only in concept by change and ambiguity.

 

Forgiving times invited a wanderer to sit and enjoy the serenity of the day, the briskness of the morning, the song of birds and the wonder of the sunrise, the quietness of the afternoon or the soft tinkling of the crickets in the fading light. It had seen the promise of children, running and playing near the water’s edge, gleeful, wild and spontaneous, hearts speaking strongly as they ran through grasses. But it had also seen the calm and calculated presence of the elderly. Creaking as they sat, heads hanging slightly weighed down by an affect of ceaseless gravity, though this did not undermine the knowingness and peacefulness of their gaze.

 

A greenhouse stood next to the pond and kept it company, often reflected in its mirror. When the sky moved and the days passed the greenhouse kept the pond company, glass walls and ceilings reflected back the light, considering a dialogue between the sun and the moon. There was a permanence, changing only in outward appearance, it was likely when one went, the other would as well. It was unclear what was in the distance, but it was hopeful at least, to consider a methodical interest in the navigation of time.

 


sometimes I think there's a comfort in quietly observing people

watch them smile

laugh

walk together

 

it reminds me that the world is good

that it's better to smile

to be kind

and to listen

 

i like to listen

there's a stillness in observation

sometimes, listening feels like more of a contribution than anything else

 



 

CNY Regional Market, Syracuse NY

 

 

 

Tracing

Today I thought a little bit about dissonance, and nature in urban contexts.

flowers in single use plastics

symbols of beauty and symbols of toxic material systems

one bound in, and often by the other.

 

This is a complicated image (II) for me

here it is bright

but I think there could be images elsewhere

that might be very dark.

 

These dark places (I), where synthetic materials are born

might ask us to consider

what those sites (III) continue to expererience.

 

 

 

_

 

Below is an image of a quote, which I continue to read, again and again.

 

 


An image (II) of a passage.
Anuradha Mathur. "Recovering Ground: The Shifting Landscape of Dacca"

Landscape Transformed

 

 

 

Quote Transcribed

 

I am interested in challenging the
professional ‘viewing’ of landscapes
from those enclaves of specialization on
the one hand, and the hermetic
theoretical discourse on the other, that
are so prevalent today. I strive to
recover through design inquiry and
practice, landscapes that bring together
rather than polarize scientific, imaginative
and experiential dimensions. This
does not necessarily call for an
‘interdisciplinary approach’ where the
outcome can be described as comprehensive,
collaborative or a compromise.
Instead, it is a transdisciplinary one,
Where the act of ‘seeing’ landscapes in
new and alternate ways is constituted
Through artistic investigation.

 

Landscape architects often have
little tractile engagement with exploring
the real grounds of their intervention in
the process of design. Instead, the site is
Represented in other mediums – words,
Numbers, images and, primarily drawing.
How a medium is used depends on and
is affected by what landscape design is
perceived to be. The making of landscape
requires an engagement with
one’s ground, be it a drawing, a terrain
or a discourse which allows one to
explore and reveal – processes in process.


integrating writing drawing

 



















my . artist run website