Disclaimer: I’ve never done anything in the realm of a podcast, so bear that in mind if you opt to listen vs read 😊
Back in March I started this new series of work. It literally hit in the middle of the night, this vision for what it could be and I immediately rolled out of bed to get it onto paper. A focus on native plants. Work that felt slow and deliberate and was something to linger over. Layered in a way that was sculptural but not structured. No hard edges, just… organic. To make something that almost felt like a step back, back before cell phones…
and as I started working on it over the coming weeks my brain became captured by the layers. Each piece so far is filled with layers and layers of acrylic paint and vine charcoal, colored pencil, Neocolors and soft pastels. Some layers look messy. Some layers create areas that feel so rich with life you can feel it and ultimately some really bring it in and make it feel whole.
It parallels nature in a sense. There’s always something lying just beyond, out of sight but everything works together. Sometimes creating things that feel unimaginable because it’s the kind of beauty and wonder you can feel in your bones.
Now, I grew up spending an enormous amount of my time outside. I suspect you probably did too. From morning till dinner and then again until nightfall.
So I’m curious, if you were a kid like me what your connection to the land you lived on was like? What was your connection to all the wildlife that you shared your neighborhood with?
Was it like mine?
Because if I’m being honest, mine was sort… surface layer.
I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but so much was unknown to me.
I know I looked forward to fireflies in the summer (I still do). I knew we shared our yard with rabbits and Robins and Blue Jays among others. I was terrified of any and all insects that flew and I knew the giant tree that grew in our front yard was a Pin Oak.
I could go on a little bit more, but there’s not a lot of familiarity beyond certain sights and sounds.
I had no real knowledge of native flowers or trees or any grasp on just how many different birds coexisted in the places I ran barefoot, much to the annoyance of my parents. I loved being outside and exploring, climbing trees, taking in the sunshine, watching the light change, being barefoot in the grass, staring up at the clouds… all of it… but there was a whole world just beyond that, a world that seems was invisible to me.
I had an appreciation for nature but more within the confines of a National Park, not so much with what laid just beyond my own front door.
Nature in many ways felt very, very separate. Certainly not something to experience by sitting on my front porch.
There was a huge gap in education concerning the land we lived on and what else resided there too. It’s something I think about a lot. Especially as I go deeper into self educating myself about everything from the songbirds whose music I’ve enjoyed my whole life but I couldn’t identify, to the native flowers and grasses that were once abundant here. The more layers I peel back the more I want to share my excitement and wonder with my kids and incidentally with pretty much everyone else I meet.
The more familiar I become with the land, the more nature reveals itself.
and something really amazing happened in doing this. The whole subconscious idea of me being separate from nature dissolved. The things that went buzz and made me shudder as a child (and into early adulthood) no longer make me shudder, mostly anyway. I’ve had bees come and land on my hand inexplicably multiple times this Summer and instead of my body filling with panic and fear, I stand calmly and take it in instead. The feeling of teensy tiny feet moving about, and the up close view of their little wings, it feels a bit like magic.
Our yard was relatively devoid of most creatures when we moved in but over the years as I’ve taken out more and more grass and nonnative bushes and replaced them with native flowers, shrubs and wild grasses and I’ve seen it come to life.
Now it’s littered with all the things that have been here all along. I’ve found tremendous joy, excitement and wonder just sitting on my front porch in a way that feels new and familiar all at the same time.
When we sit still long enough to take in the nature that surrounds us right where we live, the connection to place that was once missing starts to develop. Even just from sitting on your front porch or at your local park. As you learn and build deeper connections outside of yourself, the layers that make up who you are will evolve and change and reveal themselves too. The subconscious barriers and feelings of separateness that seemingly exist between us as people and everything else will steadily evaporate. Everything has a chance to become a little bit more whole, you, me and this beautiful planet we call home.
As for me, I’ll continue to rewild chunks of our yard as best as I can, but more than that, I’ll keep building this collection of work to help you connect too.
This series I’ve started is literally rooted in the land, something whimsical and filled with hope. It started by digging deeper and taking the time to educate myself and be immersed in the landscape. Doing charcoal drawings in the garden, it’s become something more.
A way to share what I’ve learned through art and help you grow too.
I’m so curious, what does your connection to the land look like? Has it changed since you were a kid? Let me know
xoxo,
Bec
p.s. I’m planning to open up a paid subscription hopefully before the end of the Summer. As a paid subscriber you will get a downloadable print of my work that you can choose to have printed alongside some info about the flower or plant being featured.
