Mutually Making.
“I’m left with the question of how can one share the work they do, with the community they participate in, in a manner that helps refine it into a form that can be genuinely valued by all who partake?”
As the spring slowly emerges I am eagerly anticipating the growing season. With only 72 frost-free days I hope the long hours of sunlight will help compensate for the shorter time frame. I move into these upcoming months (weeks?) with optimism. Currently, I'm working as an EA at an elementary school and my contract ends once the school year is over. Since I have the summer off, I plan to either find another job or spend time foraging for mushrooms and berries, gardening at the Whistlebend Community Garden, and photographing this new place.
Whenever I make a plan for consistency I am quickly met with the realization that I don't have all that much to say when unprovoked. I enjoy conversing about the concepts many of you have heard me pontificate, but there is only so much I can say before hesitating for the recipient to have a chance for a response. This dynamic, I feel, is missing in the practices of writing, preaching, or numerous other art forms. They all lack participation from the audience. There is the necessary participation found in consuming, however, that process does not allow for a response from the maker. I see it often in the pattern of sharing work, having it critiqued or purchased, and then the maker not having an opportunity for explanation or shared pleasure or refinement.
I recall the canvases I sold early on in my photographic practice that I would now be embarrassed to see on anyone's wall. The images have not lost their value to the observer and I wouldn't desire to relinquish the value they see. My impulse is to explain why the piece could have been better or point out my amateur skills that were undeveloped and possibly even replace them with a current variation.
I'm left with the question of how can one share the work they do, with the community they participate in, in a manner that helps refine it into a form that can be genuinely valued by all who partake? I think this question is important because it transcends any specific trade or art form and can be asked by everyone who desires to contribute positively to the people and place they live. After accepting the burden of this question, people must uphold their responsibility for the future and present predicaments experienced in their local setting. The acknowledgment of our role in destruction or improvement to the environment around us is nearly entirely lost or foreign to our modern society. Agrarian and indigenous cultures hold the last strands of equitably participating in local ecosystems and communities. Our technological-industrialized reality desires for us to ignore our embodied role while agrarian and indigenous tradition merely alludes to holistic, participatory sentiments in current manifestations.
I desire my work, whether it is gardening, aiding in education, photography, writing, or even building friendships, to direct us toward the part we all play in forming a holy community. It is also required that we do so alongside those we live near. Bridging the gap between individuals is a concept I will explore another time.
As always, thank you for reading and joining me here. This time from social media has been rejuvenating and provided me more time to be an active member to those around me while focusing on my mental health.
There is a feeling of significance whenever a last is experienced. Whether it's a last drive down the rural highways I frequented, or the last walk with Celine through the provincial park, the sentimental value is paramount at the time of concluding a chapter in life. This week's images are from the last week before moving to Whitehorse and include a few lingering mushrooms.
