There’s a voice inside my head that says it’s a waste of time to make art that cannot be kept, held on to or preserved.
Actually, there’s a voice in my head that says making any art is a luxury that I cannot afford. I have reoccurring conversations with this voice to set the matter straight by defending art, in its many forms, as an essential piece to a whole, healthy culture. I bargain with that voice and say that when I create art, I am much happier and therefore more productive in other areas that are esteemed as worthy.
I wonder if this voice that argues with me against creating art is genetically leftover from eons of having the 2nd of the Ten Commandments drilled into us. “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images.” (Which begs the question of why some of the Bible is conveniently adapted to modern day life while other parts of it remain literally set in stone. But anyway…) The power of the image is—well— Powerful. Making and viewing Art can be threatening to a prevailing paradigm as it has the power to evoke deep transformational work of our collective psyche.
Author Molly Remer says, “Each of us contributes to the patterns of the world soul,” and I think just being alive in and of itself is a total work of art. We collectively weave forms, patterns and images, creating a never-ending cosmic tapestry. And is it just coincidence that the word earth has art centered inside of it? Aren’t we earthlings made for art?
I once had the opportunity to participate in making a sand mandala and found the process both healing and insightful. (I did, however, struggle with the synthetically-dyed sand from who knows where being tossed into the river afterwards.) But I did not have attachment to letting that art go, as anyone who has made sand mandalas knows that they are temporary in nature, and if you are creating them with monks, the art’s intention is for practicing impermanence and non-attachment.
If there is any artist who has embodied that practice, it is Andy Goldsworthy, a man who has exemplified the rhythm and wonder to be found in ephemeral installations of elemental materials. I highly recommend viewing Rivers and Tides, a beautiful documentary of some of Goldsworthy’s work, as it gives us another lens through which to honor the inevitable movements of nature from its flourishment to decay.
Another exceptional artist is poet
who consistently makes the most endearing earth altars I have ever seen. Her temporal offerings have wings that lift me up empowering me to fly to the places just where my heart needs to go in that moment.Andy and Kate and many others inspire me to ignore the “no time for art” voice and create what I call ‘earth altars’: sometimes they appear in the form of mandalas; they may be just a collection of things displayed randomly although intentionally; they may be the decorating of tree bark; they may be covering myself with flowers… Earth altars are anything that is temporary by nature, using gathered natural materials, to honor a particular moment in time. It’s art as prayer.
I would like to prioritize making more art, and I am especially fed doing it with others, for art is a way we can give back, a way to reflect the beauty and sorrow that life inherently is. Art is a form of reciprocity. Earth is unceasingly generous and it can be easy to just take and take and take, yet when we make art, it is a fundamental way we give back to the world.
Putting on some old cds of Enya in Hart’s surround sound stereo, (Enya never gets old in this house actually), I took some time to make an indoor earth altar this week as it is too darn cold for me to be doing much outside. I was inspired from making ginger tea and how beautiful the slices looked, to put together a mandala of some of the foods in the kitchen. How lifted and light it made me feel, to do this! Afterwards, I made an infusion with all of the ingredients, and gave myself a foot soak in that warm water. Ahhh, renewed in winter!
“Art wipes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” Pablo Picasso
Indeed it does.
Mary Morgaine Squire
1/19/24
~Love Letters to our Plant Allies~
Ginger
Zingiber officnale
Zingerberaceae
Dear Ginger,
With reed like leaves blowing in the breeze, I have watched you sprout and grow into a clump in one season, yet I will not get to see you flower in my garden. It’s not a long enough growing period here in Appalachia, but I’m thrilled you will even grow here at all! My friend planted you in her greenhouse and the flower you made- light yellow with a spicy fragrance- gave me an ephemeral glance into your root.
When I dig you up in autumn, after your leaves have died and dried, your rhizomes are pinkish-white on the outside. You look so different fresh than dried. I guess I would too. Hart use to grow rows of you and sell your tasty spice all over North Carolina. Before I learned that, I thought you could only grow in the tropics, being indigenous to the maritime lands of Southeast Asia.
I am awestruck with your reputation and experience- as an exotic food you have been traveling around the world for thousands of years, praised by Confucius and ancient Greeks, in healing cookie recipes of Hildegard of Bingen and even named as one of the few foods mentioned in the Quran, as the heavenly drink of Paradise.
You invite the cook to be healer. Food as medicine. Warming tonics of your teas and ales heal. We put your pungent rhizome in sweet or savory dishes like cakes, candies, cookies, curries, marinades, slaw, teriyaki sauce, soups, dressing, and we pickle you, too. Lending your distinct delicious taste plus all kinds of health benefits, I say thank you, thank you, Ginger.
I used to get mouth ulcers when my diet was more acidic, and chewing on some of your root would ease the pain and heal the sores. My friends Jonah and Taylor, who love to climb mountains, slice you thin and place you in their socks to help keep their feet warm while trudging through the snow. Your gift for enhancing circulation is widely known. In our home, when there is injury, a warm compress of you to the area is our first remedy. You bring a healing blood flow just where it needs to go. One of your specialties is breaking up congestion that can form in a woman’s reproductive system!
When a female has red hair, she is sometimes referred to by your namesake, as a Ginger. Some find it offensive and other women love it. It’s your fire that they are said to embody. I have two ginger daughters and indeed they are fiery and warming, just like you. Speaking of fire, thank you for being an essential ingredient in Fire Cider, the beloved immune booster of plant people! You also go well with honey and lemon, to cure colds, relieve nausea and support healthy digestion. My love and appreciation for you is solid, dear Ginger.
Love,
Mary Plantwalker
I will be offering an ‘Earth Altars’ workshop this summer, stay tuned!
-We are seeking a live-in housekeeping and gardening assistant. Do you know of anyone who may be a good match? And please share this ad if you can. Thank you!
Thank you, SistAr, for naming the “no time for art” voice!! Let’s shine the light on that unhelpful thinking and pull that monster out from under the bed!
And oh yes, GinGer!! My breakfast this morning was a warming ginger soup.
And how I love your two Ginger Daughters, fiery & warming indeed ❤️ 🔥 ❤️
"Actually, there’s a voice in my head that says making any art is a luxury that I cannot afford." I often hear a similar voice, and it's good to know others struggle with it. Thank you for your honesty.