Man Meets Nature

Man Meets Nature

Setting: Everywhere.

We start off with Nature. She’s quiet, but has a deadly temper. She’s wild, free and likes to venture off the beaten path.

In walks Man. He is structured, disciplined and pleasingly symmetrical.

He likes order; she likes quiet chaos.

In any normal story they wouldn’t naturally be attracted to each other, but in our story there is only Man and Nature and when you have two things in a small place, they are bound to collide with force and friction.

The product, a curious progeny artistically intertwined. The competition is fierce; there is no winner only a mutual existence.

Man and Nature meet head on to claim victory only to discover that there must be an understanding for both to survive; they must each claim a space within the others world – freedom and structure must assert a juxtaposition of existence.

faces of consumption.

*the background is constructed of hand painted plastic water bottles 

Faces of Consumption

1500. The number of plastic water bottles consumed in one second by the U.S. alone. We don’t seem to notice things until they directly affect us and are directly called to our attention- it is in the background, a second thought. The plastic bottle craze is a global phenomenon that affects each of us on a collective scale. The environmental effects are lasting and impacting. And it is appalling to realize that the increase of bottle waste is five-fold over as many years.

It is a shocking realization that after we are gone the plastic water bottle, mindlessly consumed, remains. Plastic takes hundreds of years to disintegrate. Only one in every six plastic bottles makes it into the recycling bin, the rest making their way into landfills and our oceans and rivers. Every square mile of the ocean has 46,000 pieces of floating plastic in it. 

The plastic bottle craze is a global phenomenon that affects each of us; what new life can we place within our own limitations. The intent is no longer to replenish my body with the fluid that the plastic holds, but rather to discover what distinction that I can make.

When our faces fade, our consumptions remain. 

vertical

I am Vertical


But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love 
So that each March I may gleam into leaf, 
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and the flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
Then the tress may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

-Sylvia Plath

Light

thank you for returning. i've missed you.

equal parts: magic and tragic

visions of snow